![]() ![]() We had our own symbols-cross, fish, crown of thorns-and our own buzzwords, like “sanctification,” “fellowship,” and “atonement.” You could throw these words around at church with a straight face, but you got the sense (or learned the hard way) they wouldn’t play well at school. I learned early on that we Christians and our wares were set apart. Like the Baptists, a lot of Churches of Christ had in previous generations boldly claimed to be the One True Church and the Only Path to Heaven, but they were beginning to chill out on this point by the time my dad came on the scene. Since before I was born he’d been preaching in the Churches of Christ, a mid-size Protestant denomination known for its a cappella singing, full immersion baptism, weekly communion, and slavish emulation of the practices of the Early Church. ![]() When I was seven, my family moved from Springfield, MO, to Annandale, VA, so my mom could go to grad school and my dad could become the new preacher at the unfortunately named Falls Church Church of Christ. (from Bible Adventures by Gabe Durham) ![]()
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