I Sing With Joy and Gladness
The men’s chorus from Bethany Covenant Church gathered at a local retirement community to perform a concert for the residents. Residents who could walk ambled in and waited patiently for the concert to begin. Nurses aids assisted others with walkers and wheelchairs. By the start of the concert, the makeshift concert hall was comfortably full.
Some of the residents dozed as they waited for the concert to begin. Others dozed even after the concert started. other residents rocked gently back and forth in their chairs, mumbling to themselves and staring into the distance. And still others smiled and waved to this chorus of gathered strangers who had come to sing for them. I extended my hand to an old woman who sat contentedly next to me. She spoke to me with excitement about persons and places I did not know, as if we had been old friends. The young nurse’s aid sitting next to her gently rubbed her hand and quietly said to me, “Helen, has Alzhiemers.” I nodded with understanding as I continued to smile and listen.
In matching blue blazers, the Men’s Chorus waited for the appointed time. Some sat pensively studying their music as if they were performing at Carnegie Hall. Others joked and laughed amongst themselves about the latest water-cooler humor. Most of us had hurried from our places of work to get there. I wonder what compels these men to insert another event in their busy schedules to sing for the elderly? Somewhere on the list of answers would surely be the simple joy of singing.
Near the close of the performance, we began to sing a favorite called, “I Sing With Joy and Gladness.” The words are descriptive of a character of the Christian life often forgotten under the heavy burden of our daily routines. “I sing with joy and gladness, my soul has found release. Now free from sin and sadness, with God I live in peace. . . .”
As we marched through this tune, Helen stood and began to dance. With gentle, sweeping motions of her arms and a broad smile, she gracefully careened back and forth in front of us as we sang. A nurse’s aid approached to restrain her, but suddenly stopped and watched with amazement as this frail woman danced with the vigor of a woman much younger. Before Helen returned to her seat, she went down the line of our men’s chorus, expressing her thanks with a hug and kiss.
If you had looked closely that evening, you would have seen droplets of tears in the eyes of some of those men, for we had seen a miracle happen before our very eyes. The power of the gospel in song had for a brief moment helped a woman with a failing mind and body feel young again. As I drove home to my busy routine, unfinished tasks, and overbooked schedule, I hummed to myself, “I sing with joy and gladness, my soul has found release. . . .”