The Agnostic Violinist

By: Josprel

The Agnostic Violinist
by
Josprel

Based on a true incident in the lives of the author's parents.

Chapter One

Paul and Tony grew up like brothers. Their Italian immigrant parents met at Ellis Island and settled almost next door to each other. Shortly thereafter, their eldest sons were born only two days apart, growing like twins, with no personal history unrelated to the other. Given an opportunity to study music, both developed into gifted musicians. Tony, a master drummer, was keenly and immodestly aware of his musical abilities. In their early years, he continuously prodded Paul to form his own orchestra. "I don't have the patience to lead one, Paul, but you do,” he acknowledged, “I'll be your percussionist and help in any other way I can.

Finally the Paul Perrello Orchestra was organized. In publicity billings, Tony referred to himself as, "The Number One Percussionist,” and to Paul as, “The Number One Violinist,” a tactic implying they were the world’s quintessential percussionist and violinist. Paul undeniably was a virtuoso of the violin, though not as boastful and arrogant regarding his accomplishments as was Tony of his own; still Paul often publicly boasted, “No one can percuss like Tony." Conversely, Tony boasted that Paul practically invented the strings.

Orchestras usually employed "wind" leads, but Paul’s violin led their group. The orchestra’s music instantly captivated Italian audiences, expanding to general audiences, until it was in demand throughout several states and most of nearby Canada.

Though he never used the term, Paul was an agnostic. He claimed no one could know a God existed. He even attempted unsuccessfully to prevent his wife, Sara, from attending church. It only was through her perseverance that Joey, their infant son, was christened.

Tony, however, did attend church. An irrepressible jokester, he often kidded Paul about his anti-religious views. It was a liberty the violinist accorded only to him. That is, until the altercation about orchestra affairs when, in exasperation, Tony branded Paul a stubborn heathen, hoping he would burn in hell. Tony had never seen his slim, five-foot-seven, normally mild-mannered friend so livid. Fulminating at the burly, six-foot-one percussionist, the violinist erupted.

”You impious hypocrite; you're lucky we're friends! You're worst than any heathen! You act holy in your church, but I wonder why the roof doesn’t cave in when you go in, because I know what you do on our out-of-town gigs. If Grace knew, she’d have left you long ago – you wouldn't have a family left.

"If there's a God, He wouldn't let you make a fool of Him the way you do. If He really does exist, He has a place reserved for me in paradise and one for you in hell! Now I’m more inclined than ever to think there’s no God. If there was, He’d have struck you dead and thrown you into hell years ago. That’s where you belong, you big phony.

“Let me tell you, if I was sure that God existed, I’d serve Him the right way, not like you pretend to do." Turning to leave, Paul added, "Don't ever mention religion to me again! Not ever! Is that clear?" Then he stalked away.

Taken aback, Tony feared he had destroyed their friendship. He and Paul had argued before, but never like this. They were just brotherly spats. And Paul had never reacted this way: eyes blazing, fists clenched, voice ominous.

Reflecting on the argument, Tony concluded that Paul’s charges were true. Out of town with the orchestra, he partied excessively, gambled and was not above easy flirtations, things his wife, Grace, didn’t know. A good family man, Paul did none of these things. Moreover, he always was ready to help others. It was a matter of honor with him to never renege on a promise. His friends claimed Paul's word was "like money in the bank."

Tony apologized almost immediately, but for weeks afterward, they conversed only when unavoidable. Eventually, the gulf narrowed and then closed. The old camaraderie resurfaced, with their mutual concern for each another. It was that concern over Tony's two absences from rehearsals that now brought Paul to Tony’s door.
***** *****

Home alone, the percussionist was excited to see his friend. “Paul; come in. Come in. I've been expecting you."

Surrendering his hat and coat, Paul noticed that Tony appeared well. "I'm not surprised you've been expecting me. You've missed two rehearsals."

"That's not why I've been expecting you. I've been praying for God to send you, so you could hear what happened to me."

The violinist groaned in disgust, "Oh no. So, I'm not here because you've missed rehearsals? I'm here because you prayed me here? I was worried about you, and you joke around about it. Get my things; I'm leaving. Be at rehearsal tomorrow. And without the stupid jokes.

Tony sought to placate his friend’s indignation. "Please, Paul, I beg you - don't leave. It's no joke. I have been praying for you. Stay and let me tell you what happened."

Gradually, the violinist’s indignation melded with curiosity. He had never heard Tony beg before. He did seem different somehow. Accepting the proffered chair, he responded apprehensively, "O.K. Tone, but I warn you, this better be good."

Tony poured two cups of coffee began by exclaiming, "I'm born again, Paul!”

Paul’s forehead creased. “You’re what?”

“I’m born again! I'm going to a church that teaches right from the Bible and the church services are all in Italian." As he spoke, he told of the things he had learned. Then he exclaimed with even more excitement, "Paul, I never knew such things were in the Bible! I'm saved!”

Unfamiliar with the terms "born again" and "saved," The violinist grunted dubiously. What in the world was Tony talking about? He was sure that, like himself, he never even had held a Bible, much less read from one.

"Tony, I don't know what on earth you're talking about. Either you're drunk or this really is another one of your nutty jokes. Believe me, when I say "nutty," I mean like a fruitcake!"

"Wait, Paul, Just hear me out. I know you'd love the music in this church. It has a big orchestra - all the winds and strings, two pianos, a pipe organ, and accordions."

Then, in a voice bordering on awe, he added, "And drums, Paul. This church even has drums in the orchestra. Can you believe it?"

Paul didn’t. A look of sheer scorn contorted his features. Now he knew Tony was pulling another of his practical jokes. Drums in a church? Did Tony really expect him to swallow this hogwash? Lifting a hand for silence, he declared emphatically, "Enough, Tony! So this really is another one of your sick religious jokes. You know what I told you about this garbage of yours."

"But it's all true, Paul. The meetings are so happy. The people sing and even clap to the music. And the prayers, Paul! The prayers are just beautiful. You should hear them pray. They just talk to God like He's standing there in front of them."

The earnestness on Tony’s face baffled the violinist. It shouldn't be there; this was a joke and Tony wasn’t that good an actor.

Chapter Two

Reaching across the table, Tony gripped Paul's wrist, his voice reverent, "Paul, I know you won't believe this either, but the preacher asks people to get saved. He prayed with Grace and me. We're saved, Paul! You and Sara should get saved, too. Grace and I have been praying for you both to get saved."

This was more than Paul could take. Now Tony was "saved."

"So you're saved. How are you saved - in a trunk, or in bank maybe? How about Fort Knox? Now there's a good place to be saved. Tony, I think all the banging of your drums finally drove you batty. What you really need to be saved from is your craziness. That's what I think."

Rising to his feet, he asked for his things. Slipping into them, in a voice full of concern, he said, "Tone, at first I thought you were kidding. Now I'm not so sure you are. I don't even know what you're talking about, and neither do you. For once, I really hope this is one of your jokes.

"But, if you really believe all this malarkey you just fed me, then you're bonkers. You really need to see a shrink. I'm serious about that. If you make an appointment with one, I'll even keep you company when you go. Anyway, for now I gotta leave before you drive me as crazy as you are."

Paul aimed for the door, but Tony instantly moved to block his path. Gripping the knob, he
remarked, "Just one more thing, Paul, I'm leaving the orchestra."

Paul was stunned! Tony never threatened this before! The group was as much his as Paul’s! Tony knew this; his love for it equaled that ofPaul. At a loss for words, Paul stammered, "B... B... But, w... w... why? We've disagreed before. The group is as much yours as mine. Even, though you're nuts, no one can "percuss" like you. Just don't talk to me about religion. I've told you that before. That's not too much to ask, is it? Be at rehearsal tomorrow. Just leave all your religious talk home!"

"No, Paul, I won't be there. Really! I've given up that kind of life! You know what a hypocrite I've been. You've told me often enough."

"Aw, come on Tony! Those were just words. I was angry with you."

"But you were right, Paul. Anyway, I'm quitting because my talent belongs to God, now."

Paul felt bile surging in his throat. "Look, just let me leave!" he demanded.

"Will you visit the church?"

"I said, let me leave, Tony!"

"You can't leave until you promise to go to church with me!"

Now Paul was certain Tony’s mind had snapped. "OPEN THIS DOOR, Tony!"

"Not unless you give me your word you'll to church with me."

Paul didn't know what to do. Had Tony really gone nuts? He could never really strike him; they'd been friends too long. Anyway, Tony was a lot bigger than he was. He tried prying Tony’s hand from the knob. Tony’s grip was too strong.

"Let me leave!"

"Not without your promise that the next time we meet, you'll go with me,” Tony
demanded.

Seeing no other alternative, the flabbergasted Violinist finally agreed. Hotly, he answered, shouting, "O.K! O.K! BUT IT'S GOT TO BE AN ACCIDENTAL MEETING! YOU'VE GOT TO PROMISE THAT! YOU CAN'T MEET ME ANYWHERE YOU'LL KNOW I'LL BE!"

"Agreed." And the door swung open.

Then, with a brutal detachment, Paul spoke the words neither of them ever thought possible. Face-hardened into a grimace, he spaced them deliberately, punctuating each word with a finger-jab to Tony’s chest. "From . . . now …on … our …friendship …is …ended. We …are … no …longer … brothers."

And feeling as though his heart had been was torn from him, Paul stepped through the door.

CHAPTER FOUR

When he arrived home from his visit to Tony, Paul paced the floor absorbed in thought. Sara surmised that something had happened, but asked no questions, waiting for him to speak.Finally, Paul told her everything that had occurred.

"If he hadn't quit I could have overlooked everything else," he rationalized, "Friends always have their differences. We always got over them before! Sure he teased me; but I teased him, too! What really makes me mad is his quitting.

"Now he's religion crazy. He's so holy he can't play in the orchestra any more. 'I've given up the kind of life I use to lead,' he told me. Like he's joining a monastery. Like all of a sudden, his God’s going to strike him dead for playing in the orchestra. Can you imagine that? He’s ‘. . . given up the kind of life . . .’ he used to lead.’ How does he dare insult the orchestra that way? Like being in the orchestra made him carouse and play around with all his women!”

The longer Paul ruminated on the topic, the more infuriated he became. Finally, waggling a forefinger at Sara, he continued, "Believe me, honey, if his God wanted to strike Tony dead for his sins, He has more reasons than even He can ever count. He doesn't need the orchestra as a reason.

Lowering his hand, he continued, "You know, if he had stayed, he would have pestered me to visit that church with him, and nincompoop that I am, I probably would have gone - just to make him happy."

With a scowl, Sara looked up from her ironing. Unlike Paul, she was devoted to her church. She was shocked that Tony and his family had "changed religion." According to her view, what their former friends had done was unforgivable.

"Don't you dare!" she exclaimed, "I'm glad he quit! Don't you ever go to that church, even if you do see him, again!”

"Don't worry, Sara," her husband assured her, "I told him it has to be an accidental meeting. In a city this size that will never happen!"
*****

The new drummer was working out fine; the orchestra was doing better than ever. Yet, for Paul things weren't the same. A malignant tumor had developed on Sara's neck. The doctors wanted to operate, but refused to offer assurances.

As he had surmised, the chance of an accidental meeting with Tony in a city of some two million people was remote. He hadn't seen Tony for several months. Though still angry withTony, it still felt strange not to have him as his confidant. He knew the big man and his wife would have been as concerned for Sara as he was. Paul missed them.

Like now for instance. Before the rift, he would have askedTony to drive downtown with him to help shop for this expensive orchestra equipment. They would have consulted together on the best quality. And, possibly, they would have picked up Sara and Grace for dinner. Instead, Paul went alone.

The church was crowded, but Sara thought nothing of it. Her own church was a large one; moreover, as the wife of a musician, and a woman who loved to party and dance, she was accustomed to large gatherings. It was the service that bewildering her; she couldn't relate it to anything she had ever before experienced. She found the music and singing exhilarating, realizing now, that Paul had not exaggerated when he told her that the music in this church was "fantastic."

Mostly, it was the kind of praying these people did that astonished her. It was a strange kind of praying. The man behind the pulpit made a remark and the congregation -Paul included - rose to its feet, turned and knelt between the pews.

Not Sara, however. She remained uncompromising, sitting rigidly at attention, cradling Laura.

After several voices in succession uttered what Sara took to be prayers, one man close by spoke right out loud in a language she knew was like no Italian she had ever heard. The man's voice subsided and an expectant hush fell on the gathering. Then, from several isles away, a women voice spoke out in English, "You are seeking to enter heaven by following a religion, but no religion will get you there. Jesus Christ said that He is the way, the truth, and the life. No one can come to God, the Father, without going through Jesus Christ. Only Jesus can lead you to eternal life.

"You have come to this service tonight only to receive healing for your child, yet God will also heal you from the terrible tumor that afflicts you. But, your soul also needs to be healed from your sins and your doubts and fears. Tonight you shall be born again by God's Holy Spirit and you shall become a new person. God will fill you with his Holy Spirit and you shall witness to many others of the wondrous things Jesus Christ has done for you."

It was a flabbergasted violinist's wife who sat through the offering and the preaching that followed.
*****

Just before the preaching ended, Sara turned toward Paul and whispered, "A voice in my head keeps saying that I'll saved, and healed, and filled with the Holy Spirit tonight. That's the same thing that woman said would happen me. I don't know what that all means, but I'm scared. Let's leave here."

Paul took her hand and whispered back, "But God is going to do it, so it should be fine. You want Laura to be healed, don't you? If we leave now, she won't be prayed for."

With an uneasy look, Sara nodded.
*****

The alter call was given. The minister progressed down the long line of supplicants, finally reaching Sara, Laura cradled in her arms, Paul and Grace behind them. Addressing her in perfect English, the minister inquired, "Are you saved?"

"I believed in God," Sara responded, defensively.

"But are you saved? Have you received Jesus Christ as your own personal Savior?" he persisted.

"I really don't understand what you mean. I said I believe in Jesus."

"You must receive Him into your heart and life, personally," explained the minister, "You must believe that He died to save you from the power of sin, and that He rose from the grave to give you eternal life. When you confess that, He will save you from your sins."

"But I already believe all those things. My own religion taught them to me when I was only a little girl. Anyway, I'm not a bad person. I'm not a sinner."

"Do you read the Bible?"

Sara shrunk back in horror! "Oh, no! Never! We're not allowed to! I would never do something like that! My husband just started to read it, but I don't want him to. I try to stop him, but he won't listen to me. He shuts himself in the bathroom, where I can't stop him from reading it."

The minister prayed for her, lightly touching her brow. Instantly, her legs buckled, and Grace grabbed Laura!

Covered by a blanket, arms lifted, eyes closed, oblivious to her surroundings, Sara sang to the Lord in songs so soul stirring, that other worshipers wept. Not Paul, though! Stunned, he watched Sara's tumor diminish, and then vanish! Informed by Grace that Laura's fever was gone, he just gapped, slack-jawed! But, oblivious to time and surroundings, Sara continued her song.

When, finally, she opened her eyes and attempted to speak, melodic tunes were all she could utter. This lasted for several days, and then the phenomenon ceased. Afterward, Paul brought Sara and the baby to their physician, informing him of the miracles. Having no other alternative, the doctor pronounced that Sara's tumor had spontaneously disappeared, and that Laura also was cured.

Now Paul knew God existed, and that He answered prayer. Telling his orchestra he was leaving, he gave all orchestral rights to his Frank, his first violinist, consecrating his own music to God. Paul and Sara zealously witnessed of God and His Son, Jesus Christ. They gave their testimony to all who would listen.

Conducting street meetings in Sara's hometown, brought persecution to the couple. Though they never attended their own church, Sara's conversion devastated her parents. Even her healing failed to move them. Her brother, with whom she had been exceptionally close, slapped her across the face and disowned her as his sister.

Paul fared no better with his family. His six brothers and two sisters wanted nothing more to do with them. Paul’s mother, a plain Italian woman with extremely poor vision, always before had treated Sara as her own daughter. Immediately after her son, Paul’s, marriage, the two had bonded into a loving relationship. Now, her other children informed their mother that Paul and Sara had "lost their minds." They insisted that she stay away from them because they might harm her.

The persecution did not last, however. Within a decade, Sara's brother was born again. So, were Paul’s mother and three of his brothers with their entire families.

Both Paul and Sara continued to give glory to Jesus Christ, who redeemed them and who answered the prayer of a former agnostic violinist.

-30-
© Joseph Perrello (Josprel)
Josprel@verizon.net

Josprel’s Note:

Through the years, those who knew my parents and witnessed the events surrounding their salvation often narrated the account to me. “Tony” was my godfather according the Roman Catholic religion. My youngest brother, also an evangelical minister, now is married to Tony’s granddaughter. The other of my two brothers - a director of music and special events for his local church – is married to a second granddaughter of that same minister. The brother of my wife, Maria, married the minister’s youngest daughter. Though my parents were ostracized and severely persecuted by our relatives for “changing religion,” the Lord honored them by eventually saving several of these same family members.

Article Source: http://www.articles.narrowisthepath.com

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