Abide With Us

I think it was three months ago when I received an email from an activity director in a beautiful assisted living community. She advised me that our service was being moved to a smaller activity room. She apologized because the room has no piano.  The results of this move have actually been positive. While I do still serve communion, I spend most of my time sitting with them in a circle.  This change has ushered in some rich discussions and even some a cappella singing that has gone surprisingly well. We generally use the small spiral bound hymnals that I keep in my car, and the residents pick the hymns they would like to sing.  

 

As we closed this month's gathering, one of the residents asked if we could sing  "Abide with Me."   I was surprised as this is a hymn we are singing this month in SpiritCare, but I had just picked up my materials, and I had not had a chance to sing it.  I knew I could not lead it and I asked her if she thought she could.

 

"Oh, no," she replied. I explained the situation, and added that we surely we could sing it next month.  

 

Then quiet Mary, who always smiles, but seldom speaks, simply began singing the hymn.  We all scrambled to join in (fortunately, the hymnal is alphabetical order).  

I was stunned.  "Mary, thank you!  That was wonderful!"  The group also expressed their gratitude.  

 

She smiled her beautiful smile and said, "I used to be a music teacher and I sang in choirs. I can't read very much any more, and my memory is not good, but this hymn I remember."   

 

It is almost Pentecost. Yesterday, as I moved through a busy skilled nursing community, I heard many languages and conversations. The nursing station was its usual busy hub.  The front desk receptionist was valiantly trying to figure out what the caller was really trying to tell her.  Some CNAs were being instructed on how to safely feed a patient. Several families were gathered with their loved ones  and they were speaking in Tagalog and Cantonese. I had talked about Pentecost in the service, and as I was saying my good-byes, I was thinking about William. I had not seen him in the past few months, but he was in worship yesterday. I told him how glad I was to see him. He looked at me and I sensed recognition, but he did not smile and he said not a word. The activity assistant told me later that William had stopped talking and they did not know why. They cannot understand his silence.  As I walked to the parking lot, I found myself feeling wistful about that day of Pentecost when everyone understood what the other was saying, and maybe even not saying.  I yearn for that day to return.   

 

Come, Holy Spirit. Abide with us. Help us understand.   

 

  

When other helpers fail and comforts flee, 

Help of the helpless, 

O abide with me. 

    

Francis Lyte

   

  

All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability. 

Acts 2:4