Beloved Bishop

Bishop Cook stood today and announced that he was recently diagnosed with cancer.

Tears sprang to my mind, as my mind immediately flashed back to the face of another bishop - a warm and friendly face, with sparkling eyes and a smile that was a permanent fixture - Bishop Oliver's face. I see his face as it appeared on the front of his memorial service program.

Bishop Oliver was the bishop of our ward when I was in high school, back in California. A gentle and fun-loving, slightly older African American, Bishop Oliver was a favorite among the youth. He came to girls' camp one year. We all had a great time as we tried to teach him some of the games we had been playing, especially since he didn't really learn them quickly. He laughed as much as everyone else as he made mistake after mistake in "This is a What," and as he snapped his fingers and grooved along to the rhythm of nursery-rhyme rap game "Hump-de-Dump."

When I was in college I received a phone call from my mom that Bishop Oliver had died. Cancer. It was so hard for me to hear. He was so full of life, so giving and happy. How could he have died?

This is what I thought of as Bishop Cook stood at the pulpit today, announcing his condition to the suddenly quiet congregation. I sat quietly wiping my tears as he explained that he has prostate concer, and described the irony of a 62-year-old man who had only just discovered how to be happy being diagnosed with a life-threatening disease.

Luckily (if anything regarding cancer can be called lucky), prostate cancer is one of the less serious types. Bishop Cook proclaimed to all that he does not expect to leave this life yet, not now that he has finally settled into this whole life-and-happiness thing. He will keep working, he will continue as our bishop, he will keep living his life. Even as he told us of his condition, hope and faith emanated from his face, from his whole being.

After he spoke, it was business as usual. The meeting went on, the bishop continued his duties. He made a request for me to set up some specific musical numbers for the coming months. He went to choir practice. He went on with his day.

But I think everyone who heard him speak today, though we may go about our lives as well, will be just a little different than we were before.