Torch, Spring 1993

Pastor Freeman's joyful message shut the sanctuary doors to all anxiety. Cares and concerns milled about the foyer, waiting for the worshippers to invite them back in. But for a while, the listeners were too occupied with the Master to be bothered with the mundane. At the conclusion of the service, the people moved in bunches through the aisles. Several circles centered on individuals commenting about the preacher's unique appearance. Some talked loudly, reflecting the pastor's spirit more with volume than expression. Mr. Davis, usually in a hurry to leave, allowed five cars to precede him out the driveway. The evening service followed suit. Because it was youth night, the teens sang and read and prayed and, throughout, Pastor Freeman sat smiling on the front row. Many in the congregation forgot his expression, seeing only the back of his head. But when the young people finished their drama presentation, the adults actually applauded. Monday, the grinning minister was the talk of the town. Yet no one ventured to put the plain question to their pastor. If anything, his natural freedom of expression gave people greater pause to bring up the subject. If he chose not to share the source of his extremely good mood, perhaps he had reason, they thought. A pastor is privy to much confidential information of the depressing sort, so why shouldn't he be entitled to know some secret good news once in a while? 14 Torch The delegation which finally approached the parsonage could not have been more unnerved by his reception. Pastor Freeman invited the several men and women in, beaming all the while, and after they were seated calmly asked why he had the pleasant privilege of seeing them all together on a Tuesday night. They had assumed the topic to be obvious enough. But now, faced with the need to voice their concern, they merely coughed and nudged. "Dear," spoke Mrs. Freeman finally, "I recall a verse which tells us to 'Rejoice with those who rejoice."' "Yes, yes!" responded the minister. "Romans 12:15. A marvelous instruction, and followed by the admonition to 'mourn with those who mourn."' "Exactly. I believe these good folks would like to comply with Scripture, but...well, they would like to know why they're rejoicing with you." "With me?" "Looking around this room, it seems you're the only one smiling," she said. "How unfortunate. Don't you all have enough reason to rejoice? 'Rejoice in the Lord always! I will say it again: Rejoice!"' Then Deacon Jones voiced the group's plea. "But you see, it's not that easy. We thought you might have a special reason for your happiness." At this the minister's expression finally changed. He looked from face to face, gradually coming to reflect the group's mood. "As I looked out from the platform on Sunday morning, I thought I saw a change. People seemed to be different than when they came in." His head bowed. "Sunday night, I sensed my words and attitude were still having an effect. But is there no joy on Tuesday nights? Must we have a never ending stream of stirring words and special music to be happy in Christ?" It was Mrs. Freeman's turn to smile. "No, dear, but a little ice cream would help. Let's all go downtown and get a cone." Faces brightened. People laughed. And the pastor marvelled. His grin restored, he had kind words for his wife in the car. "I suppose it's a start." "It's a reminder," she replied, "of the happiness we know should be ours always. Today, we have ice cream with friends, tomorrow..." "Tomorrow, we gather for prayer and Bible study. Maybe I'll actually shout 'hallelujah!' during testimony time. Do you think that would be all right with the deacon board?" Doug Miller is director of public relations for Cedarville College. He serves as managing editor of Cedarville TORCH and oversees other college publications. A graduate of Cedarville, he earned a master's degree at the University of Arizona. This article was inspired by Nathaniel Hawthorne's classic tale, "The Minister's Black Veil."