When it was entering its second century, the wood-frame, white-steepled Methodist church on the Calhoun Square, built in 1904, was starting to show its age. By 2010, the church’s stained glass windows had so many pieces of glass missing, that according to Tom Colwell, when the wind blew, the drapes moved. Tom, a local historian and church member, said the drapes over the windows also made the sanctuary dark.
So the congregation commissioned local artist Shirley Rucker to make new stained-glass windows, replicating the diamond pattern from the original windows and adding medallions of Christian symbols. Each family adopted a window, and church members also took out the old double-hung windows, Tom said, which were painted pink and gold, and replaced them with double-pane windows.
Then came the next setback: the Covid epidemic put such a dent in attendance that the members who were left were faced with a decision: to close the church or keep it open.
They voted to keep it open in a new incarnation, a non-denominational church called Calhoun Community Church. It has since then continued to grow steadily, Tom said.
“Last June we had six people,” he said. “On Easter Sunday, we had 32.”
On the Sunday after Easter, the sanctuary glowed with sunlight streaming through the rebuilt stained glass windows onto the curved oak pews, filled with couples, grandparents, children and grandchildren. Tom leads the singing of the opening hymn, “My Hope is Built,” noting that he is glad his voice is not the only one he hears.
Then the minister, Jackson Short, steps up to the podium and says “There is joy here in this room. It must be left over from last week.”
The 10 a.m. service at Calhoun Community Church is preceded by coffee and social time in the back of the sanctuary at 9:30 a.m. Members exchange news, share photos of their families or or a recent trip. Today, it is Caroline Lane who has brought peanut butter cookies to go with the coffee.
“I’m the cookie baker,” Caroline said. “I used to have a bakery, Nana B’s.”
Rev. Short, in a collared shirt, slacks and lace-up shoes, is the most formally dressed person there. Everyone else is in casual attire —tee shirts and jeans or overalls.
The sermon is also informal: Short asks questions, which people in the congregation answer. A retired Methodist minister and retired military, Short talks about prayer, specifically about the privilege and freedom to pray at any time, under all circumstances and about anything and everything. He illustrates his point by telling a story about being a civilian worker during Desert Storm, where he was in charge of evacuating 2,200 non-combatants.
Suddenly there was a loud explosion outside his workplace, he said, prompting Short and an employee, who was Muslim, to hide under their desks.
“We looked at each other and smiled,” Rev. Short said. “We knew we were praying to the same God.”
Short is one of only 10 civilians who received both the Desert Shield and Desert Storm medals.
Calhoun Community church draws together people from Sedalia, Warrensburg and Clinton. One of the newer members, Shirley Cardwell, invited her granddaughter, Cheyenne McNeely, from Clinton to the church, along with Shirley’s grandchildren, Savannah 12, Tucker, 7, and Mason, 5.
Tucker and Savannah serve as acolytes, lighting the candles on the altar. Tucker also enjoys ringing the church bell in the steeple before the service starts, ushers people to their pews and hands out programs, and passes the collection plate.
Shirley, who lives near Calhoun, said she had known about the church all her life, and knew most of the people who attended.
“I needed to go to church and thought one day I’d try it,” she said, “and I love it.”
Caroline Lane’s son, Shelby Bicknell, provides special music for the services. Jeremy Reed, who lives across the street from the church, runs the tech desk. His father, Jerry Reed, also attends the church.
For Debbie Joy, the church on the Calhoun Square has been a constant. Her grandparents, Sy and Bennie Goodrich, were members, Debbie said, and she was married in the church, as were her sisters and aunts. The family funerals were held there, and a great-aunt, Beth Goodrich, was the pianist.
“And now I do the Children’s Class,” Debbie said. “We have so much fun.”
Sunday School is held during the sermon. Debbie has up to 10 children in class, she said, ages 4 through 12. They talk about current events and listen to stories from the Bible — they’ve covered the ones in Genesis, she said.
Debbie also has crafts planned, to make gifts for May Day and Mother’s Day. Calhoun Community Church members incorporate fun into church life, ringing in the New Year at a party at church and working on their recycled glass sculptures. The group meets in the basement whenever they want to get together.
To add to the Calhoun community, church members hosted an outdoor movie night on the Square behind City Hall, showing a Halloween movie last fall that drew 50 people. A Gospel Fest drew 75 people, Tom said, and sold cinnamon rolls during the Calhoun Colt Show.
“We’d like to have a movie night once a month on the Square,” Debbie said, “and do another Gospel Fest.”
Calhoun Community Church used to be part of the United Methodist Church, but when attendance dropped, had the option of disassociating from the international denomination. The deal: the church would get the church and the property if they paid the apportionment, which supports the UMC ministry and missions beyond the local church, owed for the coming year.
“We had the money,” Tom said of making the one-time payment. “Now we just have to cover utilities.”
Calhoun Community Church continues to anchor a corner of the Square, providing a welcome to anyone who is looking for a friendly church family. On the outside of the building is a heart, symbol of the welcome and acceptance found inside. Despite the obstacles, Calhoun Community Church has survived the lean years and is flourishing.
“In all things God is with us,” Tom said. “All things happen for a reason.”
For more information, go to the Calhoun Community Church Facebook page.
