The Fragrance of a Violet

Yesterday Melissa and I attended a funeral in Shelbyville.  You might have read about the deceased in the newspaper.  Genevieve Kelly was a 74 year old widow who was murdered in her own home, stabbed to death by a man who rented property from her. 


For as long as I can remember, Genevieve and her husband, John, were fixtures around the United Methodist Church where I grew up.  John passed away just a couple of years ago.  Everyone called him "The General" because he had been a Lieutenant General in the Air Force.


Genevieve and The General were active with the youth ministry when I was youth pastor there during my years at Asbury Seminary.  Their granddaughter, Genevie, was in high school at the time.  The two of them even came along on a couple of our mission trips as chaperones.  They were hardworking and energetic.  And faithful.


I hadn't really seen Genevieve for several years, but the news of her death hit hard.  We tend to think of murder as something that happens only in big cities or foreign lands - or even only in fictional TV shows and movies.  I hate to think of Genevieve's last few moments on earth being filled with terror and intense physical pain.


Her funeral was surreal in that I was back in my home church with quite a few of the same folks from my childhood memories but we're all 30 years older.  The pastor and family did a superb job of acknowledging the evil which led to Genevieve's death without dwelling on it, leaving room for the proper focus of a celebration of her earthly life and the promise of eternal life in heaven.


The most striking thing about the whole experience was the bookmark the family created for each person to take upon leaving the sanctuary.  Genevieve's daughter said they had printed the bookmark with a quote which the family had found on a slip of paper in the house after the murder.  Genevieve had been in the habit of collecting quotes and Bible verses which struck her.  To attach this particular quote to her funeral was one of the greatest demonstrations of grace and forgiveness I have ever personally witnessed:


"Forgiveness is the fragrance that a violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it." - Mark Twain