Mourning a tiny church’s closing
GREENWOOD, TEXAS — After 128 years of faithful service to the Lord, the end came suddenly for the Greenwood Church of Christ.
I’d worship at the little country church a few times a year, arriving a half hour or so early with my parents, Bob and Judy Ross.
Mom would fill the communion trays and set out homemade cookies or brownies, while Dad, the preacher, reviewed his Bible class lesson and sermon notes.
The Greenwood Church of Christ’s roots in rural North Texas stretched back to 1896.
Wayne East, elder and songleader, would show up a few minutes later with his wife, Theresa. They’d smile and greet me, and Wayne would hand me a copy of the single-page church bulletin he’d edited and printed out.
Even though I lived 160 miles away and visited infrequently, I knew I’d find my wife, Tamie, who suffers from rheumatoid arthritis and other autoimmune diseases, on the prayer list.
I’d shake hands with Bill Woolaver, the other elder and Theresa East’s father. I’d talk about baseball with deacon Lonny Henry, a truck driver and farmer, and enjoy hearing his wife, Joy, discuss her nursing work.
In its heyday, this North Texas community settled by 19th-century pioneers boasted two saloons, four grocery stores, a hotel, a bank, a barbershop, a blacksmith shop and a cotton gin.
More than a century later, a little country store serves the few remaining residents of the unincorporated ranching community, 55 miles north of Fort Worth.
Up the street from the store and the volunteer fire station next door, the Greenwood church gathered each Sunday — with roots dating all the way back to 1896.
A 1906 tornado destroyed the original church building, according to the congregation’s written history. The white wooden structure built to replace it served as the church’s meeting place for nearly a century.
A classroom building was constructed in 1987, followed by a new auditorium in 2003. After the new auditorium opened, the old church facility was sold and taken apart to be moved to a new location.
The Greenwood church’s classroom building, at left, was constructed in 1987. The new auditorium, at right, opened in 2003.
For the past few decades, God blessed my family — and me — through the Greenwood believers, who were tiny in number but giant in heart.
When my three children, now adults, were younger, the little congregation frequently donated money to help them go on mission trips. When my oldest child, Brady, was a teenager, the Greenwood elders gave him his first opportunity to preach. And they kept inviting him back.
In the mid-1950s, an entertainer named Pat Boone moved to the Lone Star State to pursue music studies at the University of North Texas. While in Texas, Boone delivered sermons at various Churches of Christ. Greenwood was one of them.
Over the years, a variety of ministers honed their preaching skills at Greenwood — from Jimmy Waggoner, now an elder of the Sanger Church of Christ in North Texas; to Clyde Slimp, now a regional director for Texas-based Eastern European Mission; to multiple students from the Brown Trail School of Preaching in Bedford, Texas.
Slimp recalls going with his youth group from the Decatur Church of Christ — about 15 miles west of Greenwood — to lead worship at the Greenwood church in 1987.
“It’s funny now,” Slimp told me in 2013, “but I think I vaguely remember it being talked up as a way for us to go encourage them since they were a small country church. The reality was that by giving us a chance to develop and step up, we were the ones who got the biggest dose of encouragement.”
An old sign outside the Greenwood Church of Christ in rural North Texas is pictured in 2016.
A new sign outside the Greenwood Church of Christ displays a message of hope on Easter Sunday 2019.
Sermons and naps
My father, a 1976 graduate of the now-defunct White’s Ferry Road School of Preaching in West Monroe, La., served as Greenwood’s minister for almost 23 years.
When he started in 2002, he and Mom were still working as houseparents at Christ’s Haven for Children in Keller, Texas.
Dad would make the hour-long drive to Greenwood by himself, while Mom took a van full of girls to the Keller Church of Christ, where the teens could be involved in the youth group.
Dad preached in the morning and napped on a church pew in the afternoon before sharing another lesson at the evening service, which was later discontinued. When my parents retired in 2007 after 25 years with Christ’s Haven, Mom began accompanying Dad to Greenwood.
In Dad’s early years at Greenwood, Sunday attendance averaged about 25.
That number swelled to 40 one Sunday in 2006 when the Sojourners — retired Christians who own recreational vehicles and travel the country to help smaller congregations grow spiritually and physically — were in town.
Bob and Judy Ross at the Greenwood Church of Christ in 2023.
But overall attendance kept declining as young parents sought opportunities for their children at larger congregations, and older members — including Willie C. Cole, one of the elders when Dad arrived — passed away.
Another elder, Jerry Myers, and his wife, Nancy — who were beloved leaders and mentors at Greenwood for a long time — moved to a different congregation a few years ago.
Still, the tight-knit group that remained persevered, enjoying a third Sunday potluck meal every month.
“We kept trying,” as my mother put it.
Greenwood Church of Christ members and friends gather for a 2021 fellowship meal at the home of Bob and Judy Ross. Pictured, from left, are Lonny Henry, Paul Wagner, Wayne East, Joy Henry, Judy Ross, Bob Ross, Theresa East, Bill Woolaver, Joann Maxwell and Virginia McGaughey.
Too many funerals
I last visited Greenwood in June 2024.
“People don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care,” Dad emphasized in his sermon that Lord’s Day.
I nodded and jotted down that statement — a variation of one often attributed to President Theodore Roosevelt.
Bobby Ross Jr., left, with his siblings, Christy Fichter and Scott Ross, at the Greenwood Church of Christ in 2023.
Scott Ross fills in for his father, preacher Bob Ross, at the Greenwood Church of Christ on a Sunday in 2023.
I knew the little country church — with just seven remaining members — was struggling to survive.
I didn’t realize my visit last summer would mark my final time to worship at Greenwood.
Dad, who will turn 80 this spring, had preached too many funerals.
The most recent one came in October 2023 when Paul Wagner, who was known for sharing Jesus as a longtime greeter at Whataburger and later Taco Bell in Decatur, died at 78.
Wagner’s passing left the congregation with one fewer man to pray, lead singing and help with the Lord’s Supper.
Some of the other members — including Dad and Wayne East — faced serious health challenges.
Even walking to the pulpit often left Dad, who has battled lung problems along with his diabetes, out of breath. East, meanwhile, dealt with ataxia, a degenerative disease of the central nervous system.
“If you look up ataxia, it says loss of balance and coordination,” East explained to me. “It’s this neurological disease that I’ve had for 25 or 30 years, but just in the last five or six years, it’s hit me where I can’t do anything else.”
Songleading became more and more of a challenge.
But East was quick to add, “I’m blessed more than a lot of people because I can still get up and walk around and do things, and for that I’m really grateful.”
“I’m blessed more than a lot of people because I can still get up and walk around and do things, and for that I’m really grateful.”
Time to say goodbye
On a Sunday late in 2024, the members talked and decided the congregation could not go on.
Dad had informed the elders he could preach through the end of the year. But his health would not allow him to keep making the 40-mile drive from his Fort Worth-area home.
“I’m glad your dad wanted to retire because with Paul (Wagner) gone and my not being able to lead singing, it was perfect timing to sell the building,” said East, who will cherish fond memories such as welcoming children from the community to Vacation Bible School.
I’ve confessed this previously, but when I first started visiting Greenwood in the early 2000s, I had a few misconceptions. I assumed that the small crowd of older Christians must be going through the motions and not making a big difference in God’s kingdom.
Shame on me.
I could not have been more wrong.
Over the years, Greenwood’s prayer and generosity overwhelmed me.
The church supported missionaries in places such as Cambodia, India and South Africa and donated monthly to the Tipton Children’s Home in Oklahoma.
And with the sale of its property to a neighbor who launched a daycare in Greenwood, the congregation was able to send thousands of dollars to a number of vital ministries — from EEM to the “In Search of the Lord’s Way” television program to, yes, The Christian Chronicle. (We are extremely grateful for the support.)
I didn’t find out about the closing until after the fact.
Dad mentioned it casually in a telephone conversation a few days after it happened.
I lamented the lack of a formal goodbye, but Greenwood’s leaders saw no need for pomp or fanfare.
That last Sunday, there was a final partaking of the Lord’s Supper. A final prayer. And a final crunching of tires on the gravel parking lot as teary-eyed members drove away.
After 128 years of faithful service to the Lord, the end came suddenly for the Greenwood Church of Christ.
But praise God: The little country church’s legacy will live on.
Praise God: The little country church’s legacy will live on.
BOBBY ROSS JR. is Editor-in-Chief of The Christian Chronicle. Reach him at [email protected].
Welcome to Billionaire Club Co LLC, your gateway to a brand-new social media experience! Sign up today and dive into over 10,000 fresh daily articles and videos curated just for your enjoyment. Enjoy the ad free experience, unlimited content interactions, and get that coveted blue check verification—all for just $1 a month!
Account Frozen
Your account is frozen. You can still view content but cannot interact with it.
Please go to your settings to update your account status.
Open Profile Settings