I sat tonight, prepared to write.  Pages, I thought.  Thanksgiving Day is upon us. The year has been brutal.  And emotional.  Sad—yet, filled with joy.

I had verses to quote.

Let the peace of Christ overwhelm all else in your heart…And, be thankful. (Colossians 3:15 ~ my paraphrase)

I will praise the name of God with a song, and will magnify him with thanksgiving. (Psalm 69:30 ~ KJV)

I have wisdom to share.

But, I can’t get past that voice I hear in my head.  No, it’s not THE voices; it’s just a voice from the past.

You see, Mr. Kohler won’t let me write what I want to write tonight.

Many of my friends have already been posting the verses on social media.  Some have even been sharing the wisdom in messages sent to my phone.

In the midst of this brutal, emotional, excruciatingly drawn-out year, they are grateful—giving thanks to a gracious God who has blessed us far beyond anything we deserve.

It’s all been said befo. . .What’s that? 

Who’s Mr. Kohler? 

I really don’t remember much about him.  He’s been dead for nearly forty years by now.  But, I can tell you the few things about him I do remember.

He didn’t sing.  Well, no more than the usual church-goer would.  Hymns on Sunday.  Perhaps, a bit in the shower.  Perhaps.  I never heard him sing in a choir.  Never knew him to sing a solo.

He didn’t preach.  He and his wife sat in a pew every Sunday—morning and evening—like clockwork.  Still, he never preached that I knew.

But, Mr. Kohler was the best amen-er I ever heard.

I’ve never been a member of one of those churches that was really vocal.  We didn’t have an amen corner, didn’t have many folks who called out encouragement to the pastor as he preached—well, not much anyway.

But, Mr. Kohler now—he didn’t care if we weren’t that kind of church.  When he agreed with something, he called out a hearty “Amen!”.  Not quietly.  Not timidly.  Everyone in the sanctuary heard him.

The Lovely Young Lady and I sang together in the youth choir before we were married.  She was the singer; I was just there to be close to her.  No matter.  We sang in the cantata (a choral presentation) the young folks put together that year.

The young choir director thought it would be nice if we had a recording of the performance. She called in a local band director who had a reel-to-reel tape recorder with microphones he was willing to set up and operate for the project.  We were excited.  This was about as uptown as we were ever going to get!

I don’t remember the songs.  I don’t remember if I came in at the right places, or even if the Lovely Young Lady did.  What I do remember is Mr. Kohler.

At the end of every piece (before the instruments ended), and sometimes in the middle—if the Spirit moved him—he called out an exuberant “Amen!”.

Well, of course, it was loud enough for the microphones to pick up!

What did you expect?

The band director/sound engineer was horrified as he listened to the recording later that week.  No matter what he did, he couldn’t get rid of the amens without also losing some of the music.  He called the choir director to ask her what to do.

“What?  Do?  Why, leave them exactly as they are!  They’re part of the performance!”

She was adamant. The amens stayed. If any recording still survives of that performance, I’m sure you can hear every single one Mr. Kohler uttered.

Every single one.

Mr. Kohler didn’t sing.  He didn’t preach.  But his joyous declaration to all affirming his agreement with the truth and beauty of our worship rings in my memory still.

Over forty years later, the music has long faded into the mists, but his Amen booms out loudly and clearly.

So, I hope my friends won’t mind if others hear my response to their exclamations of gratitude on this day.  I know I’ve gone the long way around Robin Hood’s barn (as my dear mother-in-law would have put it) to say I have nothing to add to their declaration.  But, there it is.

I have nothing to add.

Only this.

Amen.

And, again I’ll say it.

Amen.

 

For everything comes from him and exists by his power and is intended for his glory. All glory to him forever! Amen.
(Romans 11:36 ~ NLT)

 

 

© Paul Phillips. He’s Taken Leave. 2020. All Rights Reserved.