Last night as I was getting ready to go to choir practice, the face of my Granddaddy Rose came vividly to my mind, and it occurred to me in a fresh way that he had been a member of the very same choir where I am now. Of course, it was called the Adult Choir back then, and today it is known as the Celebration Choir, but it is in the same church and is a part of the very same music ministry (evolved, yes, but much the same).
I can still picture him standing in the tenor section with his silvery, wavy hair. Granddaddy was short, but I always knew just where to look to find him in the group. A particular Call to Worship that the choir sang still rings in my memory. "The Lord is In His Holy Temple. The Lord is In His Holy Temple. Let All the Earth Keep Silence Before Him." Then the basses would sing in deeper and deeper voices with notes descending lower and lower -- "Keep silence. Keep silence. Before Him." I was in awe of that music and those words.
Granddaddy's first "song leader" (as we called the Minister of Music back then) was Melvin Hyatt, and his wife was the organist. Then, we had Brother Rucker. I don't remember his first name, but he was from Bogalusa, LA (as a child, I thought that sounded so exotic), and he had a daughter named Melanie who was my friend. They didn't stay very long, but then came Ken Jacobs, and he stayed for a VERY long time. I'm sure he was still the Music Minister when my Granddaddy finally got to the point where he couldn't participate anymore.
Granddaddy wasn't "the star of the show," by any means. Oh sure, he sang in a couple of quartets from time to time, but he was better known for the fact that he "begat" some very musical children, six to be exact, several of whom sang in that same choir or in the choirs of the churches where they were members.
When I walked in the back door of the church last night, I saw James Agee coming toward me. James and I go WAY back. I'll always remember that he brought Teddy Bears back from the Smokies for me and my Aunt June (only six months younger that I) when I was only seven or eight years old. Now, he's the Head Usher, and I get to see him practically every Sunday. I told James that I had been thinking about my Granddaddy, and he helped me tell another young man who was standing nearby some things that HE remembered.
Granddaddy was born in 1900 and never owned a car. He lived on East Washington Street here in Athens from the mid-1950's until he had to move to a nursing home in his last years. Six days a week he woke up early, got dressed, and starting walking down his street to the town square where he worked as a barber -- meaning that he was on his feet ALL DAY LONG. Then, he would walk back home at night. On Sunday, the scenario was the same, except on that day he was walking to church rather than to the barbershop. Often, people who were accustomed to seeing him on the road stopped to give him a lift. They knew him, and they knew where he was headed. But, if no one stopped on a particular day, he kept right on walking. James recalled a Sunday morning when there was a good bit of snow on the ground, and he looked out to see Granddaddy (Mr. Clarence) walking up the sidewalk to the front door of the church. With all of that walking and standing he did, it wasn't too surprising that when he DID manage to sit still for awhile, he often dozed or "rested his eyes." I still smile to myself thinking of him asleep in the choir loft during many a sermon. :)
For a few years, my family and I lived next door to Granddaddy and Grandmomma (who was homebound all her life because of severe motion sickness and a heart condition), and we, of course, gave Granddaddy a ride to church during that time. We moved away from Athens in 1960, when I was ten years old. Some people would call it a "twist of fate," but I see it as the direction of God that Steve and I moved back to Athens in 2010 -- fifty years later -- and we decided to join the church where I had been on the Cradle Roll, a member of Sunbeams, where I marched in for Vacation Bible School and saluted the flags and the Bible, where I felt the presence of the Holy Spirit drawing me to accept Christ as my Savior and was saved and baptized, and where I participated in the Junior Memory drill and some of the very first Children's Choirs.
Granddaddy didn't sing in the choir to make a lasting impression on ME. He sang because he loved music, and he loved worshiping God and using his talents in that way.
Now, I am the grandparent (gulp!) Several times some of MY grandchildren have been sitting in the congregation when I have walked out in my choir robe. It thrills me to hear them whisper loudly, "Look! There's Grandmomma!" And, I give them a big smile from the choir loft when I see their little hands frantically trying to get my attention. But, like my Granddaddy Rose, I don't sing in the choir in order to make an impression on them. I sing because I love music, and I am so happy to be able to express my worship through this ministry. Just maybe, though, fifty years or so from now, my grandchildren will remember seeing me in the choir, and it will matter to them like it matters to me to think of my dear Granddaddy Rose.
Psalm 100 --"Make a joyful shout to the Lord, all you lands! Serve the Lord with gladness; Come before His presence with singing. Know that the Lord, He is God; It is He who has made us, and not we ourselves; We are His people and the sheep of His pasture. Enter into His gates with thanksgiving, And into His courts with praise. Be thankful to Him, and bless His name. For the Lord is good, His mercy is everlasting, and His truth endures to all generations."
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