The Verger

The previous few years had been Hell, at least in Jim Abbott’s mind. An already active fight-or-flight mode had been kicked in overdrive by one crisis after another. Family turmoil, his parents’ catastrophic illnesses and then deaths, job stress and exhaustion had taken their toll. He sat in church and was miserable. He had prayed over and over and over again for relief from his pain. Yet God was silent. Abbott just stewed in his misery and depression.

Like a leaf caught in a whirlpool, he couldn’t escape his own dark thoughts. 

The service was beautiful as were the flowers on the altar. But Jim Abbott couldn’t see that. He muddled through the hymns, trying not to sing loud enough to be head. Warm rays of light beamed through the church’s ancient glass, yet he felt cold. He listened to the priest’s homily but the words couldn’t penetrate the armor that surrounded his heart. Voices of doubt, inadequacy and anger drowned it out. He prayed to God again, asking for relief — or something. Silence answered him back. His knees hurt as he kneeled. 

Soon it was time to go up to the altar for communion. The priest passed out the wafer and then the wine. Jim Abbott took a sip and felt the alcohol’s burn against his lips. He felt the warmth as the wine flowed down this throat. He asked one more time for relief from his pain. And once again, he heard nothing. 

Then he got up and headed back toward his seat. Standing right next to the altar was the Verger, in his black robes and funny looking hat. He had a smile on his face that emitted genuine happiness and love. The Verger looked at Jim Abbott in the face and grinned. “Happy Easter!” He stuck out his hand and shook Abbott’s hand with gusto. Abbott felt something crack (not his hand) as he said, “Happy Easter!” back. 

Jim Abbott felt the warm sunlight as the choir sang the last song. And when the procession exited the church, he noticed the smile in the Verger’s eyes as he headed out of the church. The man radiated pure joy. And at that moment, Jim Abbott felt happiness for the first time in years.

Today, Jim Abbott still struggles with darkness. But when it starts to spread its dark cloak over him, he thinks about the Verger’s joy — and then the darkness fades. That’s when he realized it: the answer to internal hate and fear is spreading love and joy to others. That Easter, Jim Abbott learned one of life’s most peculiar truths: Sometimes angels wear funny hats.