by Sarah Price
As usual, the worship began with the members singing a hymn while the bishop and preachers left for a side room. Belle stared across the heads of the other women seated before her, her eyes seeking out her husband. He sat between two married men, their long beards a sharp contrast to Adam’s still-growing one. She tried not to smile as she watched him sing, needing to reference the Ausbund hymnal while other members sang the song from memory. He appeared uncomfortable but determined. And when he glanced in her direction, she gave him a small, encouraging smile.
By the time the church members had finished the hymn, the bishop and preachers had returned. It was one of the preachers who began retelling stories from the Old Testament, starting with creation and leading up to the reading of Matthew 18. Belle shut her eyes and absorbed the reading from the Gospel, especially the seventh verse: “Woe unto the world because of offences! for it must needs be that offences come; but woe to that man by whom the offence cometh!”
From years past, Belle knew that the council meeting was based upon this very verse. The children and unbaptized members would not attend the meeting. Instead, only members stayed for the meeting, which focused on correcting wrongs, discussing issues, and addressing disagreements, for the community had to be in harmony prior to accepting communion at the next worship service.
And yet, as she listened to the congregation begin singing “Das Loblieb,” the hymn that was always sung after the first sermon, Belle found her mind wandering back to that verse.
How could she not bring up the matter about Adam? How the community had wronged him for so many years? Why, she could bring up a number of examples . . . from Linda Troyer and her daughters ridiculing him as they peered out the window of their store to John Grimm not reprimanding his two small children for mocking him to Gabriel trying to get Belle to renege on her agreement to marry him. In fact, if Belle really thought about it, she could think of a dozen more people who had stared at him, whispered about him, and given him a wide berth.
All because he looked different
Her heart began to beat rapidly. She felt a conflict of love for her husband and disappointment in the church. She knew that she could not harbor such feelings in good conscience and still accept communion the following week. Surely that would be a sin, wouldn’t it? As the verse in Matthew said, “it is better for thee to enter into life with one eye, rather than having two eyes to be cast into hell fire.” Still, she did not want to make Adam feel uncomfortable. He had made a great step toward healing by attending the service, something she knew he had avoided for many years.
When “Das Loblieb” ended, Belle watched as the bishop stood up. It was his turn to preach the second sermon, which was usually the longer of the two. However, being that they would hold council meeting later, Belle knew that he would reiterate the message from the earlier sermon, citing that harmony among the church members was necessary before any one of them could accept communion.
So, when the bishop began to speak, she was surprised that he did not follow the format of previous sermons on council meeting Sunday.
“Just one speck of dust can blind an eye.”
He paused and waited for people to understand what he had just said. Then he held up his hand, pointing one finger into the air. “Just one. It takes so little to make a person unable to see. And what is dust? It is nothing more than a tiny particle of matter, of earth. And yet, the Bible tells us that God created the heavens and the earth. He created even that tiny particle of dust that is so powerful, it can blind.”
He began to pace the floor before the congregation. “Think about that. God can make a tiny particle of dust blind a man. Surely that is proof enough of his magnificence and power. But we don’t ask for proof, for we have faith, and faith is all that we need. We don’t need proof.”
Abruptly, he stopped pacing. “At least that is what we claim when we accept our baptism.”
Belle frowned, wondering what the bishop was really trying to say. His sermon was different from any other she had heard him preach. Apparently other people were making this realization, too. Not one person’s attention was anything less than riveted to where the bishop stood.
“We all have a speck of dust in our eyes. Each and every one of us. We have all been blinded by this tiny particle, unable to see the truth, to hear the truth, and, ultimately, to speak the truth. In fact, we have turned this blind eye to others within the congregation, refusing to extend the hand of God because they look different, live different, behave different.”
Belle caught her breath and glanced across the people between them to look at Adam.
“This is not how Christians behave. Jesus placed his hands upon the leper’s wounds so that he could heal. Jesus cast out the possessed man’s demon so that he could live. Jesus rubbed mud upon the blind man’s eyes so that he could see. But all that Jesus asks of us is to love thy neighbor. And yet, each and every one of us is guilty of breaking this commandment. Each and every one of us has permitted that speck of dust to blind us. And you can call that speck by other names . . . prejudice, intolerance, bias, aversion, envy, fear . . . but it has the same effect. It blinds us and removes us far . . . very far . . . from God’s loving embrace.”
Suddenly the bishop opened his arms. With one hand, he pointed toward Belle, and with the other, he pointed toward Adam. “And yet there are two among you who found a way to remove that speck of dust, to use faith in God to see once again. There among you sits a young woman who saved her father’s farm by marrying a man she did not know.”
Belle pressed her lips together, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. She knew that several people were looking at her. She could feel the weight of their scrutiny as they stared at her. It was hard not to squirm under their scrutiny. She took no pride in being called out as a role model by the bishop. In fact, she felt even more humble under his praise.
“And rather than stand by and recognize her faith, how many among you stood by with nothing less than idle gossip or speculation? Why, I even know a few of you who came to me, seeking excommunication of the man.”
He didn’t need to glance at Linda Troyer for Belle to know exactly to whom he referred.
“And why the anger, hostility, resentment toward the man?” The bishop paused again, lowering his arms. “Because he was injured as a child? Because his mother died in a fire? Where was the loving community offering to help this child who lost his mother? To help his father, who lost his wife? The grandfather, who lost his daughter? Why, David King was so distraught that, eventually, he sold his farm rather than continue living on the property where his daughter died.”
The bishop’s shoulders sagged. His sermon, an admonishment to the congregation, was draining him. Belle could see that right away. And while she had never seen a bishop preach like this, she knew that it was something that should have been done long ago. Perhaps that was at the core of his emotional exertion: the bishop knew that, too.
“When the child grew up—alone, mind you, for the majority of his life—he saw a way to help a family in need by offering to buy their farm. He didn’t need the land, but the family was in debt. The man paid the debt and, in turn, acquired the farm where his mother had died.”
Belle gasped. Several people glanced at her, equally as surprised as she was by this news.
“And yet the dust in your eyes,” the bishop said, scanning the room with a stern expression on his face. “That dust blinded you to the fact that this man was helping the Beiler family. You saw it as something sinister and accused him of stealing the farm away.” The bishop softened his voice. “But he was merely trying to help. Just as he was merely trying to help when he purchased a new horse and buggy for the man to replace the horse and buggy that Melvin Beiler had lost in an accident.”
The bishop took his hand and pointed at the members of the congregation, his arm moving in a semicircle. “How many of you contributed to help your neighbor? To live the word of Jesus?”
Several heads bowed down.
Belle knew the real reason why, for Adam had already told her of the lack of generosity on their part when the bishop had asked for contributions to help the Beiler family.
Lifting his chin, the bishop straightened his shoulders as he lowered his arm. “So today, as we prepare for fellowship before our council meeting, I want to address this issue, for the dust is blinding, and it is my responsibility to help all of you see. Remove that speck of dust and see with fresh eyes that there is beauty in every single one of God’s creations, no matter how perfect or imperfect. For truly, when you can see with the heart and not just with the eye, you will realize that you are no longer blind and are finally walking in the light with God.”
His sermon over, the bishop returned to his spot next to the other preachers. Almost immediately, the vorsinger began singing the last hymn, his voice starting the first word of the hymn so that the rest of the worshippers could join in. But Belle barely heard the words and couldn’t find the focus to sing with the rest of the congregation. Instead, she found herself lost in thought for the last half hour of worship.
Afterward, the men began to convert the benches into tables while the women prepared the plates of cold cuts, sliced bread, and side salads that would serve as the noon dinner meal. Belle hurried over to help them. For the first time since the bishop had announced her marriage to Adam, she felt acceptance from the other women. Instead of curious gazes or hushed whispers, the women bestowed warm smiles on her, and a few, including Susie, gave apologetic looks that Belle acknowledged with a simple nod of her head. She still didn’t understand exactly why the bishop had preached such a sermon, but Belle suspected that things would begin changing for the better now. Not just for her and Adam, but perhaps for everyone in Echo Creek.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
After they arrived home from council meeting, Belle helped Adam unhitch and unharness the horse. Then, after quickly changing out of her new yellow dress and into her regular work clothes, she returned to the dairy barn to assist Adam with the evening milking. In silence, they worked side by side. Occasionally, Belle would talk to the cows as she milked them, gently tugging at their full udders. Twice she caught Adam smiling at her soft conversations. A blush would cover her cheeks, and she would dip her head so that he couldn’t see.
When the last cow had been milked and they had been turned out for the evening, Belle slipped back inside to prepare supper while Adam finished tending to the horses.
As usual, he stomped his boots when he walked up the steps. This time, however, he paused for a minute before he walked through the door. She was surprised to see that he was only wearing his socks.
When she questioned him with a raised eyebrow, he shrugged. “Figured I’d spare you a muddy floor.”
Her heart warmed at his considerate gesture. “I sure do appreciate that, Adam.”
The meal consisted of reheated fried chicken and mashed potatoes. Since the Sunday fellowship meal was always light, Belle had spent time the previous day preparing something more substantive for them to enjoy after council meeting. From past experiences, Belle had suspected they would both be hungry as well as exhausted by the time they returned home from the long meeting.
And she had been correct.
For the first part of the meal, they ate in silence. But as Belle became full, she set down her fork and pushed her plate away from the edge of the table.
“Such a long afternoon,” she sighed and rubbed her temples.
He nodded, still chewing. “Ja, ’twas.”
She took a deep breath and sighed. “Who would have thought that there could be so many little issues in a town like Echo Creek?”
He gave a low chuckle as he swallowed.
“And over such trivial things,” she continued. “Neighbors upset over property lines. Farmers accusing one another of breaking borrowed equipment.” Running her finger along the edge of the table, she pursed her lips. “Such pettiness. I reckon the bishop’s sermon went in one ear and out the other.”
Adam raised an eyebrow. “For some, I reckon. But not for all. Don’t sound so disappointed, Belle. People don’t change overnight.”
She thought of her family. With Susie engaged, things would undoubtedly change for Verna. She was the spinster of the family now and, if Gabriel took over Melvin’s farm, Verna would be beholden to her sister and her brother-in-law. It wasn’t a situation that Belle would have liked being in.
“I spoke with Daed,” she said. “He’s doing quite well. Apparently the Englische folk love his new grill design.”
“Oh?”
“Apparently someone has invested in it and that’s helped him manufacturer more models.” She looked at Adam, watching his reaction with great curiosity. She couldn’t help but wonder whether or not Adam might have anything to do with that mysterious investor. But Adam did not flinch or make any indication that he might have been the silent backer. Perhaps it was better that she not know, she thought.
“Oh, and my sister Susie is getting married.”
Adam glanced up from his plate.
“To Gabriel.”
He made a noise deep in his throat. Belle knew that Adam had no love for Gabriel, especially after their words in town that one day that happened so long ago it felt like another lifetime to Belle.
“There is one thing, Adam, that has been troubling me for a while.” Belle set down her fork. She hadn’t wanted to bring up the subject, but she knew she deserved the truth. “When I visited Susie a while back, she told me that you had asked them not to come visit me. Why, Adam?”
For a brief moment, Belle worried that he would get upset with her for asking such a question. But he didn’t. Instead, he stared at the wall as if collecting his thoughts. “Belle, I knew what you had left: a home, a family, a way of life. I asked your daed to give you some space. Just until you had a chance to adapt.”
Fair enough, she thought. “I wish you had told me, Adam. I thought that they had forgotten me. They’ve been so busy with so many good changes in their lives. It was as if . . .” She was about to comment that her sacrifice didn’t matter, but she no longer considered it a sacrifice. Lowering her head, she felt her cheeks grow warm. “Well, I suppose that doesn’t matter anymore, does it? I don’t feel that way now.”
The sides of his mouth twitched as if he wanted to smile. Instead, he took a bite of the mashed potatoes she had made.
“Are you glad that you went, Adam? To worship today, I mean.”
He dabbed at his mouth with a napkin and leaned back in his chair. He studied her for a minute while he reflected on her question. She wondered what he was thinking, how he had truly felt about the sermon. She still wasn’t certain what she had felt.
“Ja, Belle,” he said at last. “I am. And not just because of what the bishop said.” He paused for a long, thoughtful moment. “Mayhaps it was a long time coming. But I’m not resentful about the amount of time it took to correct the wrong. I’m just hopeful that it was corrected.”
She agreed with him. “In time, they will see you as I do, Adam.”
He leveled his gaze at her. “And how do you see me, Belle?”
A soft smile played over her lips. “Let me see . . .” She pretended to think, as if searching for an answer. But she already knew how to respond. Moving closer to him, she stared into his face. “What do I see? Hmmm . . . a man with a large heart who has carried the weight of a very heavy burden on his shoulders for far too long.” She leaned forward. “I see a man who loved his mother very much, so much that he wanted to keep the farmhouse where she had been born, raised, and eventually died, no matter how painful the memory was to him.” Reaching out her hand, she pressed her palm against his scarred cheek. “And I see a man . . . a very, very handsome man . . . who has captured my heart—a man I’m proud to call my husband.”
He leaned against her palm and shut his eyes.
“I’ve learned something, Adam,” she said softly. “People often accuse others of the very defects they themselve
s are hiding. Why, all of those years of people treating you like a beast! Hiding from you, mocking you, ridiculing you both to your face and behind your back. It seems that people are more inclined to participate in poor behavior when led astray by others. And while I don’t understand why, I wonder if people take delight in someone else’s misfortune and suffering because it helps them forget their own character defects.”
Covering her hand with his, he moved his head to plant a kiss on her palm. “Then they need our prayers, Belle.”
“Prayers that they will reflect on the bishop’s words, ja?”
He nodded. “It takes courage to sit down and listen.”
“And courage to stand up against injustice.”
“That’s what I see when I look at you.”
Surprised, she leaned back. “What is it you see, Adam?”
“Courage.” Standing, he reached down and pulled her to her feet. “Great courage.” Playfully, he made a scary face at her. “You tamed the beast, after all.”
A laugh escaped her lips. “Oh, Adam. You’re anything but a beast. I hope you believe that now.”
He nodded his head. “You’ve shown me that, Belle.”
From outside, the dog barked. Both of them glanced at the door. The sun was already setting and casting shadows on the front yard in between the house and the barn. A breeze rustled the trees, which were losing more leaves every day. But the clear sky indicated that it would be good weather the next day. They had plenty of work to do, for they needed to spread manure in the recently plowed fields to prepare for the next year’s crops.
Adam exhaled and returned his attention to Belle. “I reckon it’s not too early to retire for the night.”
She gave a gentle shake of her head. “I reckon not.”