A Rose-Colored Sunday

Gaudete Sunday. Rejoice! The time of waiting was nearly over, with Christmas only ten days away. Except he wasn’t rejoicing; in fact, he was standing by the piano screaming. People were still filing out of the church, but he had no intention of waiting for a quiet moment. She could only stand there, listening, until it seemed the only option was to scream back at him. For her it was an unwarranted attack; for him it was a deeply personal reaction to what he believed was sacrilege. At the heart of this scene: a song.

It was her first encounter with an angry parishioner. Once the yelling was over he went directly to the pastor to complain; she overheard a snippet of the pastor’s response, “She’s young, she’ll learn.” Learn what? That you can’t please everyone all the time? That older, more experienced people can yell at you if they don’t like what you’ve done? That God surely must like some hymns more than others? 

He had suffered from polio as a child and carried the limp with him always. He had successfully fought cancer – more than once – and would do so again. His faith was strong and some might call it “old school,” but it had sustained him always. His convictions ran deep and there was no room for tolerance. He didn’t like change, and she represented change.

Over the years they would learn how to be with each other. She would call and let him know when one of his traditions was being expanded. They agreed on the importance of Scripture and the need to proclaim it well. They learned to respect each other even when they disagreed. And she learned to never yell back, but to listen with her heart instead of her ears. And when cancer once more came knocking at his door, she sent people to pray with him and to clean out the barn because his wife could no longer manage it all on her own. 

When he died, she wept. She would miss him and his grumbling ways. He was her thorn in the rose of Christ, reminding her that the greatest joys come from the often-painful sacrifices required of true Love. Out of that love, she would sing his song.