ROANOKE TIMES

                         Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: SUNDAY, July 29, 1990                   TAG: 9007270155
SECTION: CURRENT                    PAGE: NRV4   EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY 
SOURCE: Frances Stebbins
DATELINE: COPPER HILL                                 LENGTH: Medium


COPPER HILL BRETHREN PASTOR PRESENTS A SERMON OF THE HEART

Far from the academia and business of the New River Valley, Copper Hill Church of the Brethren actually serves a remote suburb of Roanoke. Only about 30 miles from the city's downtown, its members are more likely to go to jobs and hospitals in the Roanoke Valley than in the New River Valley.

Yet Copper Hill is distinctly Floyd County, removed from Roanoke by a 2,000-foot climb up either the Blue Ridge Parkway or U.S. 221 with its steep grades and sharp curves.

It's Brethren country - like Franklin and Botetourt counties - the stronghold of a largely rural denomination begun in America in Colonial times by German settlers in Pennsylvania. Brethren stand for pacifism and human brotherhood, a lifestyle for family solidarity, suspicious of materialism.

Though the Rev. Douglas Jones hardly trumpeted these values from his centrally placed pulpit last Sunday, they came through in his half-hour message, "Language of the Heart."

On a sparkling morning when it was hot in the Roanoke Valley but almost chilly under the four whirring ceiling fans in the Copper Hill church, about 100 people of all ages heard their young pastor's sermon.

They sat in a well-kept building, renovated several times but still inaccessible to those in wheelchairs. The church is four miles into Floyd going south on U.S. 221.

A visitor sees the cemetery first. It's on a knoll even higher than the church and is well filled with stones bearing the names of families of the community. Fresh flowers adorn many graves. A vista to the north takes in Bent Mountain.

Such a cemetery tells a lot about a congregation and is typical of many country churches, not only Brethren.

On Sunday, a newly renovated bus was parked in the yard. It would be used, Jones said, to take children to vacation Bible school, which ended a week of evening sessions last night. Reminded by a member at announcement time, Jones prayed for the success of the Bible school.

As the service began, after the dismissal of Sunday school, Jones, who preaches in a sport coat to a congregation unashamed of shirt sleeves, spent 10 minutes reporting on annual conference.

That's the national convention of the Church of the Brethren, which was held in Milwaukee, Wis., earlier this month. The pastor said it's always a thrill for him to see the church in action. He spoke of two new mission points in Korea and the Dominican Republic, and of efforts to serve more blacks and deaf people through the denomination.

Probably of more concern to the Floyd countians, Jones added, were the way pensions for pastors are to be financed and how to get more members interested in sharing in the Love Feast, the distinctive Brethren Communion service held elaborately but less frequently than among many other Christians.

Announcement time also included a plea for hikers for the annual CROP Walk, in which the Floyd Brethren shared Sunday afternoon. The money, raised through pledges, goes for relief of hunger.

The pastor then preached to four young children for five minutes, using the symbol of his babyhood silver cup, given him by his grandparents. No cup was displayed. Its inside, Jones explained, was too stained from neglected cleaning to be presentable even though its finish had been polished.

Though the children may have missed his point, adults picked it up quickly: People easily put on an impressive appearance but only responsible character survives the trials of the years.

The pastor continued his sermon, the theme taken from verses in Ezekiel and Revelation and reflecting the Christian's effort to make righteous decisions.

Using stories from a TV show and from his own distress about two seminary classmates ending their marriage, Jones came on strong for putting family solidarity before the money a successful career brings. When the heart calls in a decision, it must be heeded or the real point of life will be lost, Jones asserted.

Nor is it enough for people to make one "decision for Christ." Church members must do so again and again, he said.

Music is simple at Copper Hill Church, with eight men and women in street clothes in the choir and two young women at piano and electronic organ offering familiar Protestant hymns of the 19th century.

Along with a 1984 New International Version Bible in the pew was The Brethren Hymnal first issued nearly 40 years ago. The offertory anthem was a gospel-style hymn, "I've Got the Old Time Religion In My Heart." Jones joined in a quartet and applause from the congregation followed.

The final hymn was one of public invitation to follow Christ. Though routine in many evangelical churches, it often produces no response. But on Sunday a middle-aged man, who Jones said had been attending the church for some time, acknowledged his desire for baptism by the Brethren form of triune immersion.



 by CNB