Thistle Down
Page 13
Chapter 13
Ian knew that Easter Sunday was about Jesus dying on the cross and rising again, but after a long hard winter and a slow start to spring, he couldn’t help but associate the season with baby lambs, jonquils, Cadbury Cream Eggs and colorful Easter bonnets as well.
Every pew was full as he looked out over the sanctuary at St. Conan’s. Sunshine streamed through the stained glass windows and the tensions of the proceeding week seemed to evaporate with every word that he spoke, every song of jubilation that was sung. It was a glorious day, one of the absolute highlights of the entire year for a pastor, and hopefully, his congregants as well.
“We have two images to think about today. First, the prickly thorns and piercing nails that Christ endured while suffering the trials of his crucifixion. Being one with Christ means that like him, we must, at times, bear the stinging ache of despair. Feeling pain means that we’re alive. Jesus knows what it’s like to be tempted, to be disappointed and hurt. He knows what it’s like to experience pain and rejection, to ache with despair and grief.
“By contrast, we see comforting images in the Easter story as well – the Spirit of God of descending like a dove from the heavens, tender, loving arms lifting Jesus’ body from the cross, soft cloths wrapped around his body, precious spices poured out to anoint his wounds. To need, to love and be loved, and to feel tenderness, also means that we’re human. We are made in Jesus’ image. There is joy in being cared for. Softly and tenderly, Jesus calls us to follow him through pain and sorrow, even through the valley of the shadow of death.
“But there is more to this story. Jesus suffered and died a painful, prickly death, then rose to experience new life. Throughout the scriptures, we see the image of sunshine and joy after rain, the rainbow after the storm, thorny stems producing rosebuds, the pain of childbirth leading to joy. Jesus died so that we might have life, and have it more abundantly. There was joy when the women at the tomb discovered that Jesus had risen. They had witnessed a terrible ordeal, but they found joy in the morning.
“Scotland’s dear thistles are one more example of this priceless analogy. Prickly, hurtful thorns, and soft, downy seeds drifting in the wind, spreading the message that life goes on even when our days are riddled with pain and hardship.”
By the time he finished his sermon, served communion and greeted the dozens of extra visitors who had attended the service, he was exhausted.
He’d been pleased to see Emily and Benjamin at the services. They’d both complimented him on his sermon. He was looking forward to marrying them and suspected that with a little nurturing, he could enjoy a good friendship with both of them. They would make a good couple.
Emily hadn’t mentioned her sister during their brief discourse as she’d passed through the line, but when Edith took his hand, her eyes brimmed over with tears.
“I’m so happy for Emily and Benjamin. She’s just radiant all of the sudden. But you should know that Chelsea is...”
“What has happened? Is she okay?” Ian’s heart swelled with concern until it pressed painfully against the walls of his chest.
“She’s gone off with him. To where, I don’t know. She told me before she left that the wedding wouldnae be occurring and that I was to pass the word along to you.”
“I’m so sorry, Edith.”
“No outcome would have been a good one when it came to that man, Pastor. He’s a bad person, and I wouldnae have wished a man like him for Chelsea’s husband under any circumstances.”
Ian certainly felt no joy as a result of Greg and Chelsea’s decision, but he did feel some sense of relief. Knowing what he knew, he’d not wanted to marry the couple, and so, for now, at least, that problem was resolved. “I’ll be praying for the two of them, as I have been all along. Please let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”
Edith clasped his hand and wiped another round of tears from her cheeks as she walked down the stone pathway towards home.
Ian said a prayer right then and there that God would either work a miracle in Greg’s heart or give Chelsea the courage to walk away from the man and reclaim her life. He sighed. It had been a stressful few weeks.
He was doubly glad he’d had the foresight to make reservations for a couple of nights away at a B&B. In an hour or two, he’d be heading to the Cairngorms to enjoy some long, solitary treks through the highlands. The sunshine had brought the wildflowers in the valleys out - the perfect contrast to hard, rocky mountaintops covered with nothing but brittle highland heather and scrubby gorse. Before he came home, he planned to circle round to see his mother. Melinda would be back in Edinburgh by the time he arrived, which didn’t bother him in the slightest.
He had one more task to see to before he left. He’d spoken to two or three of the more discreet members of the Kirk Session about the missing artifacts and with their blessing, decided to install his video camera in the courtyard under the flying buttresses. He knew it was probably a futile endeavor and that the man was unlikely to be back, but on the off chance they might catch the thief in action, he felt it would set his mind at ease to try, especially since he was going to be gone.