She came to the service a little late (missed the opening hymn and the children’s sermon) and she was accompanied by an older couple. She walked slowly using a cane and an arm for support, but as she began to sit in the pew directly in front of me, it was clear that she needed more help than simply that of a cane. The older woman next to her grabbed her belt from the back and steadied her to come to rest in the pew, even as she used her other arm to assist her.

It was a gentle and safe landing, but quickly a hymnal was placed behind her to support her lower back. All was done with a kindly smile on the helper’s face and with grace and dignity. All three were finely dressed and ready to worship, focusing not on the cumbersome reality of old age, but focused on the prayers, the Scripture, and the hymns.

During the sermon, which was beautifully delivered by a Gordon-Conwell alumna, the older woman began to tilt to the right. At first, I was not sure it was because she was losing her balance, but then I could see that she seemed to be nodding off. After the third time of tilting, followed by some nudges and whispers, she righted herself and focused again on the sermon.

With each righting of her body, the other older woman grabbed a tissue and wiped the lady’s mouth of the drool that resulted from her nodding off. It was clearly not the first time, as there were plenty of tissues at hand.

It seemed a lot of work for this dear elderly woman to attend church, and also for the two people attending her, whom I later learned were the daughter and son-in-law, both of whom she adored. Constant attention was needed lest she tip over or drool in an unseemly way.

On the way out I stopped to talk as the man, who was gently helping the woman down three shallow steps. “Remember, shuffle one foot then the other; just a little shuffle.” It was choreographed smoothly and precisely.

“Good morning,” I said looking into the eyes of the elderly woman with the cane.

“Oh, good morning to you. What is that tie? What a nice tie. Is that for your university?” As you may have guessed, I was wearing my Gordon-Conwell tie and so we talked about seminaries and worship and the day’s preacher, who had been my student.

The man then clarified, saying, “This is my wife’s mother. She is 96 and moves a little slowly.”

We exchanged a few more words, musing on the joys of being able to go to church and worship.

“Oh, she won’t miss worship for anything. It brings her such great joy.” (I thought how it also it meant so much work for the two of them.)

And he was right, for I witnessed that joy in little spurts during the service. The final hymn was an old classic – “Standing on the Promises” –   which inspired the lady keep the beat, tapping her left hand on her knee, and to straighten her neck to be erect. I have seen many times how great old hymns or familiar passages of Scripture awaken a deep spiritual joy in a person whose life is fading.

“Standing on the promises of Christ the Lord,
bound to Him eternally by love’s strong cord,
overcoming daily with the Spirit’s Sword,
standing on the promises of God. . .”

She was “standing on the promises” when actual, literal standing was so labored.

Seeing the devotion, love, and joy in the couple who attended her reminded me of the love of Christ for us. As a double paraclete, they came alongside this 96-year-old saint, guiding, leading, holding up, straightening up, wiping, and whispering words of hope and guidance. How beautiful to see the gentle, kind, servant attitude of Christ followers in the daily life of this woman in need. It brings to mind the lyrics of another classic hymn, written by S. Trevor Francis: “Oh, the deep, deep love of Jesus. . .underneath me, all around me, is the current of his love. . .”

Jesus said, “Come to me all you who are weak and heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”[1]

Lord, may we consider this beautiful example of your love in action, and do likewise. Amen.

 [1] Matthew 11:28-30

Dr. Scott W. Sunquist, president of Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary, is author of the “Attentiveness” blog. He welcomes comments, responses, and good ideas.