Clear Winter Nights: A Journey into Truth, Doubt, and What Comes After

by Trevin K. Wax

Chris realized what “Third” stood for. Third Baptist—the church his granddad had been pastor of for forty years. Gil once told him the history of this small church with a name so ordinary. “It’s not to be confused with the historic First Baptist downtown,” he’d said. “Where is Second Baptist?” Chris had asked. “No Second Baptist in Lewisville, at least by that name. The official Second Baptist church is Mount Zion.” Gil was referring to a well-known African American congregation. “You see, the good folks that planted Third Baptist on the west side of town didn’t want to name theirs Second and somehow slight their black brothers and sisters.” “So that’s why!” “Naming it Third also made it less likely there would be another,” Gil had said. It made sense. Three Baptist churches provided plenty of choices for a town that barely numbered 1,000 residents and only 250 Baptists. A fourth Baptist church in a town as small as Lewisville was unthinkable.