Luke's wife

by Evelyn R. Garratt

The church was built of red brick, red both inside and out. It lacked beauty of architecture, and Rachel missed the wonderful feeling there is in the thought that for generations worship to God has ascended from the place. But on the other hand it was kept beautifully clean and was very airy and bright, and Luke was devoted to it.

Rachel seated at the organ sent up a prayer of thanksgiving, that she was allowed to help her husband, and hoped fervently that the choir master might often have to go away on business so that she could take his place. Moreover, besides the pleasure it gave her to help Luke, she loved playing the organ, and had been used to doing so in her little village church at home, and this evening she saw Luke in a new light. This was the first time she had seen him among his people, and it interested her much. Also she saw how very much reverence counted in his estimation. He evidently never forgot that he and his choir were in Church and in the presence of God, and Rachel noticed how this sense of God's Presence was communicated to the men and boys, and indeed to herself. As she played the organ she felt that she was not only serving Luke, but One much higher than Luke.

When the practice was over and the choir dispersed, he still remembered that they were in a sacred building and lowered his voice as he spoke to her, and took her round the church.

"I have it always open," he explained to her, "so that those who live in crowded rooms can have a quiet place to come and pray."

"And do they come?" asked Rachel.

"I have only once found anyone here," he said, "but I often remind them of the fact, that it is possible for them to pray in quiet. And I'm quite determined that the Church shall be kept as it should be. We Evangelicals, sometimes err in not looking after material things such as neat hassocks, and dusted benches. We think so much of the spiritual side of the work, that the material is neglected."

"Our little Church at home, for instance," said Rachel, "the door is kept shut all the week and so it always has a musty smell on Sunday. It is such a pity."

"I have heard people remark in discussing St. Mary's Church, that the way it is kept would put people off going there if they did not know what a splendid preacher Mr. Simpson is. As it is, the place is crowded. I don't suppose the Rector has the faintest idea of the state of his church. He is thinking altogether of more important matters, but it is a pity. They have not anything like so good a preacher at our Church," he added, laughing, "but they have a cleaner and more airy building and I intend that it should be kept so."

"Don't you think Mr. Crewse will be obliging and leave the organ to me?" said Rachel. "I should love to be your Organist. I play rather nicely, does he play as well?"

"Not nearly as well. That is to say he does not take pains with the expression as you do. His great aim seems to be to make the boys sing loud. However, he has his very good points and I fear I must not fill up his post," he added. "It would break his heart."