A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

Celebrations~Christlikeness~Christmas~The Church~Commitment
Courage~The Cross~

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Celebrations

Celebrations

Psalm 33:12a; 1 Timothy 3:15-16a; 2 Timothy 2:15; Luke 17:15-16

The red-letter days now become, to all intents and purposes, dead-letter days.

—Charles Lamb

Children's Day

Inspired Action

In October, 1880, when J. H. Garrison was editor of The Christian, a weekly publication of the Disciples of Christ, he was invited to address the national convention meeting in Louisville, Kentucky. The night before his departure, as they were having family prayers, Garrison asked for God's guidance at the convention and mentioned the needs of people around the world. Afterwards his two boys, six and ten, and a little niece who lived with them, "gathered up their pennies and nickels and tied them up in a little bag and brought them to me, wholly unsolicited, saying, 'Here is all the money we have and we want it to go to the people who have never heard about Jesus.'"

The amount? $1.13.

Deeply moved, Garrison referred to the experience during the course of his address in Louisville. He dramatically asked, "Brethren, what will you do with these children's offerings? At present you have no place for it—no fund in which I can place it."

Result? The Foreign Missionary Society of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) was born. Isaiah's words, though in another context, are nonetheless pertinent: "And a little child shall lead them" (11:6).

A Star Is Born

I heard Red Skelton tell this story. It concerned his boyhood in Vincennes, Indiana. He was eight years old. One evening as he stood selling his papers, a stranger appeared and asked what was going on in town. Politely he replied that a comedian was giving a show down at the theater. The stranger inquired if the lad planned to go. Young Skelton indicated he would like to, but first he had to sell his papers. Persisting, the gentleman asked if he would go if he had a ticket. Thoughtfully the lad said he would have to ask his mother. Whereupon the kind man bought all of Red's papers and agreed on a meeting place before the show.

The grateful and excited boy had a seat in the center balcony. When the curtain went up, Red peered down and, to his utter amazement, there stood the man who had bought his papers—Ed Wynn! Red Skelton was so thrilled that at intermission he made his way through the crowd to backstage to see Mr. Wynn, who showed him many things. Indeed, the comedian held up the little fellow to a peephole in the curtain so he could see the audience.

Skelton declared that in that high moment he knew he wanted to be a comedian.

Father's Day

"Love, Father"

Dr. Bums Jenkins was a popular preacher and writer of a generation ago. When his son went to college, Jenkins admonished him not to join a certain fraternity. This, of course, was the very fraternity young Jenkins joined. For months he lived with the secret. Then, as he spoke to a church youth group one night, he was smitten by a sense of unworthiness. Returning to his room, he wrote his father in detail of his disobedience. Two days later he received this wire: "It's all right. I forgive you. I knew it two days after you did it. Love, Father"

Too Late

'"O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! Would I had died instead of you, O Absalom, my son, my son!" (2 Sam. 18:33b). The sun and wind of the centuries have failed to dry the tears or still the anguish of this exceedingly sorrowful cry. Who was this distraught person? A neurotic parent? No, a king—King David!

David was the first king in history to be selected according to ability rather than birth. He was courageous. His character crowned him king. He was considerate and in many ways magnanimous. Twice he spared the life of his enemy Saul. In spite of his sins, the people of Judah loved him. David was a good ruler, a fine soldier, and a wise statesman. He did not fail as king. He failed as father. He was too involved in royal responsibilities to relate adequately to his family.

While young Absalom was on reconnaissance with his father's troops, his long hair became entangled in the limbs of a tree, making him an easy prey for the enemy. The king was crushed by the news of his son's death because he realized the accident could have been avoided. David's anguish was increased by the knowledge that he had not been a worthy example.

This is a continuing and familiar pattern of busy fathers. They have a way of coming too late to the needs of their children.

Independence Day

Do You Share the Dream?

Dr. George McLeod of Scotland once defined a Confucian as "one who pays occasional visits to the shrines of his ancestors." This is commendable and therapeutic, provided one does not reminisce too long or become mesmerized by past glory.

On July 4, 1776, our forefathers signed the Declaration of Independence. We need to reexamine the vision and philosophy of those who fashioned a dream in Philadelphia.

When citizenship seems purchasable, politics puissant, and the image of America distorted, let us view our country with clearer hearts.

Drama and Dedication

During the Continental Congress of 1776 the committee selected a tall, rangy, auburn-haired Virginian named Thomas Jefferson to draft a proposition paper. He secluded himself and, with minimum help, within about seventeen days produced one of the most profound and beautiful political documents ever penned. British Prime Minister William Gladstone later said it was an "inspired instrument." Congress debated the document, made a few changes, and then signed it with great fanfare, ringing of the Liberty Bell, the making of clever speeches, and costly commitments.

Caesar Rodney, ill with a malignant disease that covered part of his face, rode all day and all night from Dover, Delaware, in time to stride, booted and spurred, into the Assembly Hall in Philadelphia to bark: "I vote for independence."

John Hancock led off the formal signing with his bold signature, saying he wanted George III to be able to read it without his specs.

Benjamin Franklin quipped: "We shall have to hang together, or assuredly we shall all hang separately."

Among many magnificent statements in this eloquent and comprehensive document, that which most succinctly characterizes the American stance and spirit is this impeccable sentence:

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.

Shared Purpose

Toward the end of the Declaration of Independence we find a summary sentence which places everything in perspective: "And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor"

This is a unique creed. The signers believed something very special was happening and that God would see them through. It was a new and courageous covenant, men mutually pledging their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor! This is breathtaking and inconceivable in the fermentation of today's world.

Have we forgotten the high price some of our founding Fathers paid for their freedom? Have we forgotten that nine signers of the Declaration of Independence did not survive the war? Many lost their homes and fortunes.

Thomas Nelson of Virginia directed bombardment of his own mansion at Yorktown. It was occupied by Cornwallis. Nelson also undertook to raise $2 million to repay the French fleet for its assistance. The war notes he redeemed cost him his fortune. He died in poverty. This was his sacred honor.

Francis Lewis, a wealthy New York trader, lost everything he had. His wife was thrown into prison and died shortly after her release.

Richard Stockton of New Jersey, a Princeton graduate, lost his wealth, property, and magnificent library. He was imprisoned and died following the war.

These illustrations of sacred honor should suffice to remind us that the Fourth of July commemorates a costly freedom, one that documented the rhetoric of the signers of the Declaration of Independence.

Labor Day

God's Labor Union!

Despite reported acts of violence, exploitation, and corruption, much has been accomplished to improve and dignify American workers since June 28, 1894, when congress designated the first Monday in September as Labor Day, a legal holiday. Today's labyrinth of labor unions covers virtually the entire spectrum of society, professions included.

Whatever your likes or dislikes regarding labor unions, I believe they are here to stay. But long before the Coal Miners' Act of 1911, obliteration of sweat shops, child labor, and refinements in negotiations and working conditions, God's labor force, the church of Jesus Christ, was at work! The Lord is depending on the committed community to bring in a better day. Two admonitions will suffice:

The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; pray therefore the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest (Matt. 9:37-38).

We must work the works of him who sent me, while it is day; night comes, when no one can work (John 9:4).

Hollywood Hallucinations

Aspiring actors and actresses look to Hollywood as the eternal panacea. Yet, according to Screen Actors Guild with a membership of some fifty-two thousand, 81 percent earned less than five thousand dollars in 1982. The big-money people—fifty thousand dollars and more—constitute only 2.6 percent of the membership. Television commercials provide performers with about half their annual income. Furthermore, the Guild, as reported to the press, declares 85 percent of its members are unemployed on any given day of the year.

Making a Living or Making a Life?

Moses was a herdsman; David was a shepherd; Paul a tent-maker; Luke a physician; Lydia a merchant; and Jesus a carpenter. Carey was a cobbler; Beethoven a musician, and George Washington Carver a chemist. God's labor union is all-inclusive and is concerned with far more than bargaining strategy, hours and wages, and economic battering rams. It is compassionately concerned with the nature, needs, and destiny of persons.

Labor Day Sunday compels us to face the perennial problems associated with making a living and making a life. Paul's admonition to the Corinthians is altogether pertinent, "each man's work will become manifest" (1 Cor. 3:13).

Show Him Your Hands!

During the illustrious career of S. Parkes Cadman, a spacious and sincere soul who was a preacher of unusual abilities and pastor of Central Congregational Church, Brooklyn, New York, he was called to a humble home. There, on a thin, clean bed lay a dying woman. She was a member of Cadman's church. She was nearing the border and craved words of comfort from her minister before starting the Jerusalem journey. The pastor sat listening to his distressed and dying parishioner as she recounted her life. For many years she had been breadwinner for a large family. Her days were long, laboriously spent, earning money to pay the bills. In fact, she was the charwoman for the neighborhood.

After confessing her unsung career, she turned to her minister and wistfully asked, "When I stand before my Maker, what shall I do?"

Cadman, who had already noticed her calloused hands, and realizing now, more than ever, that they had been used unselfishly for others, said in an affectionately, comforting voice, "Show Him your hands!"

Memorial Day

Flatter Their Souls with Deeds

How shall we honor them, our Deathless Dead?

With strew of laurel and the stately tread?

With blaze of banners brightening overhead?

Nay, not alone these cheaper praises bring:

They will not have this easy honoring.

How shall we honor them, our Deathless Dead?

How keep their mighty memories alive?

In him who feels their passion, they survive!

Flatter their souls with deeds, and all is said!

We Still Remember Them

There is a handsome bronze plaque on the south front of the rotunda at the University of Virginia honoring its students who made the supreme sacrifice in World War I. Conspicuously clear and haunting are these lines:

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;

Age shall not weary them nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning we will remember them.

Mother's Day

A Loving Mother

Charles W. Eliot, Harvard's esteemed president of yesteryear, was born with a disfiguring birthmark. At first it was most difficult for his mother to accept. All the while, however, she was schooling herself in the art of loving her unattractive child, saying as she met his needs, "He is my son, he is my son."

With the passing years, Mrs. Eliot had every right to say, and with pride, "He is my son." One honor after another marked Eliot's achievements until at last, in 1869, the son of Boston's mayor was elected president of Harvard University. What if he had not been loved in his home?

A School in the Home

Samuel and Susanna Wesley were dedicated Christians. Samuel was a rector and his wife was a daughter of the manse. Altogether they had nineteen children. John was the fifteenth child and Charles, the eighteenth. Eleven of their children died; eight lived. Think of their heartaches!

There were precious few conveniences in those days: no automatic washers; no electric refrigerators; no running water in the home; no telephone; no radio; no quick means of communication or travel. Yet we read that Susanna Wesley expected each child to know the alphabet by the time he/she was five years old. At six, he/she started to school in their big living room. Susanna taught her children six hours a day—from nine to twelve and from two to five. Later, of course, they went to various formal schools, including Oxford.

Furthermore, she gave one hour a day each week to each child's spiritual development. It made such a profound impression on her children that later, in times of distress, her sons declared that they wished they might have the privilege of counseling with their mother again.

New Year's Day

High Resolves

The New Year is traditionally a time of high resolves and vocal intentions. Today this is even more imperative. If there was ever a time when we need to scrub our slates, make reparations for our reprisals, and offer penitence for our sins, it is now. It is essential to begin with God. In Him we begin; in Him we end.

The curtain of time has rung down on another year. No amount of agonizing will rewrite the witness of your life and mine. But God has brought us to the land of beginning again, and through His grace we may yet experience a more perfect day.

All aspirants should heed and be heartened by Isaiah's assurance: "Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool" (Isa. 1:18).

Leftovers!

Perry Barlow's provocative cartoon of a man and wife visiting a year-end automobile sale is pertinent. The weary husband, fatigued from Christmas pressures, sits reading a sign in a showroom, "A Leftover Model." And so are we all, thank God!

Thanksgiving

The Founders

On December 20, 1606, three bold boats sailed down the Thames in London, embarking on a voyage to search for a safe port along the shores of Virginia. Susan Constant, flagship of Sir Christopher Newport's fleet, 110 feet, 7 inches long, was by far the largest vessel. Though she had only nineteen bunks, she carried fifty-four passengers and a crew of seventeen. She was a sturdy ship with the crudest of accommodations. No one had any privacy except the captain. There was no galley. When weather permitted, food was cooked in sand pots on deck.

The second largest ship in this history-making voyage was the Godspeed. It was 69 feet, 2 inches overall, and had cramped sleeping quarters for twelve, yet she listed thirty-nine passengers and a crew of thirteen.

Quite appropriately, one of the boats used by the founders was the Discovery. This small sailing craft displaced about twenty tons of water and measured 50 feet, 2 1/4 inches from stem to stern. The rough "below" was partitioned for four bunks. Yet she brought over twelve passengers and a crew of nine.

It required 128 days for the voyage. The founders arrived at Cape Henry, Virginia, April 26, 1607, at four o'clock in the morning. On this windswept shore, the grateful settlers raised a "large wooden cross" and thanked God for their safe arrival. Jamestown was selected as their site on May 14. These were dark and daring days. The disease-infested swamps, together with Indian warfare, claimed many. Food was scarce. Several hundred colonists came to Virginia in the first six years of her founding, and at one point only sixty persons survived.

On June 7, 1610, it was decided to abandon the settlement. The colonists sailed down the James River once again to challenge the Atlantic. Next morning, Sir Thomas Gates, lieutenant governor of the colony, received word that Lord De la Warr had arrived at Point Comfort with settlers and supplies. Governor Gates returned to the empty fort and, falling on his knees, thanked God the colony had been saved.

The Pilgrims

Dramatic and significant is the story of the Pilgrims. On December 21, 1620, the voyaging Mayflower dropped anchor in Plymouth Bay, with Captain Christopher Jones at her helm. It had been a grueling voyage, taking the one-hundred-twenty-ton-capacity ship sixty-six days to make the perilous crossing. There had been disease, anxiety, and childbirth among the 102 courageous passengers. Furthermore, they arrived on the bleak New England shore during a hard winter which ultimately claimed half of their number. However, when spring came and the captain of the Mayflower offered free passage to anyone desiring to return, not a single person accepted.

The fidelity of the forty-one men, who while still aboard the Mayflower had signed the famous Compact beginning with the words, "In ye name of God Amen," was taking on visible meaning. These chivalrous souls had dedicated themselves to the total causes of freedom. They had come to a wilderness to carve out a better way of life. Faith prompted the voyage; faith sustained the Pilgrims and their religious convictions constrained them to raise their voices in praise. Their hardships, sacrifice, devotion, concept of government, and vigorous religion all remind us of those who sought a country.

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Christlikeness

Christlikeness

Exodus 2:1-6; Isaiah 49:15; Matthew 15:32; Luke 10:33-34; Romans 1:1-7

Life is an adventure in forgiveness.

—Norman Cousins

Christ the transforming Light

Touches this heart of mine

Piercing the darkest night

Making His glory shine.

—J. Wilbur Chapman

Beyond Self

During the early days of the Confederacy, Robert E. Lee was severely criticized by General W. H. C. Whiting. Most persons would have retaliated. One day, President Jefferson Davis invited General Lee to share with him his appraisal of General Whiting. The noble Virginian commended Whiting in highest terms. Whereupon, an officer took General Lee aside to remind him of General Whiting's verbiage against him. To which Lee replied: "I understood that the President desired to know my opinion of Whiting, not Whiting's opinion of me."

Call Me Eccentric

When narcotic detectives raided a loft apartment in a depressed neighborhood in New York City, their eyes and hearts were shockingly opened. The dark corridors and dingy rooms were crowded with twisted, ill-fed, and ill-clothed derelicts. Out of this human scrap heap, the police arrested six men for carrying hypodermic needles and heroin. Apprehensive of the host of this heterogenous company, the detectives charged him with harboring drug addicts.

At police headquarters, the meek-looking and mild-mannered man claimed that he had chosen to live among these people to provide them with food, shelter, and clothing. His door was open to all. He did not realize he was breaking the law in extending compassion. Investigation revealed that the operator of this strange hostel was neither a vagrant nor a drug habitue. The dedicated man turned out to be John Sargent Cram, a millionaire, who had been educated at Princeton and Oxford. To avoid the "rigmarole" of organized charity, he had moved into the undesirable neighborhood and had gone to work.

After his trial and acquittal, Cram was admonished not to take in drug addicts. Later he said to a reporter, "I don't know if my work does any good, but I don't think it does any harm. ... I'm quite happy, you know. I am anything but a despondent person. Call me eccentric. Call it my reason for being. I have no other!"

Compassion

Jean Bourgeois, age forty-five, a Belgian mountain climber, on December 30, 1982, fell a distance of 164 feet from a height of 19,800 on the Tibetan side of Mount Everest. Presumed dead, Bourgeois eventually showed up in a Tibetan village. The villagers asked, "Are you a Yeti (Abominable Snowman)?" After he explained his plight to them, the villagers provided food, shelter, and medical care for this stranger and arranged transportation to Nepal.

Discernment

During the most difficult days of Abraham Lincoln's mercantile adventure with his partner Barry, he demonstrated a remarkable characteristic: sensitivity. The store was not going well. In fact, they were gradually going broke. Barry said, "Abe, how long do you think we can hold out?" He is reported as saying: "I don't know.... If we have to sell out I should hope we would have enough left for me to buy Blackstone's Commentary on English Law. "

A few days later, a rickety, dust-covered wagon stopped in front of their store. A weather-beaten, gaunt man stuck his head out. By his side was the pinched face of his wife and two small children. The travelers declared they were headed west and had run out of money and wanted to know if the merchants would be interested in buying a barrel. There were many empty barrels in the store, as well as barrels of merchandise they could not sell, but as Lincoln looked into the faces of anxiety and need, he said, "Well, I guess a fellow could always use a good barrel. What do you want for it?"

"Fifty cents."

Lincoln reached into his pocket and gave the man fifty cents, reputed to have been practically his last dime.

"Dr. Witten's Boys"

Elsewhere in this volume I mentioned the phenomenal physician who made a home for boys from difficult and deserted situations. During the course of preparing this book I was invited back to our first parish, Tazewell Christian Church, Tazewell, Virginia, to participate in its centennial celebration. One evening was designated "Dr. Witten's Boys." A goodly number of his adopted sons were present. There were movies and testimonials. One of the "boys"—a handsome businessman—was moderator. This is his story:

Dr. Jack Witten was born in Tazewell County, attended local schools and The Medical College of Virginia, where he left an enviable academic record. He chose to practice medicine in the hills of southwest Virginia. Being disappointed in love, he never married. One night as he was ministering to a dying mother in a humble home, she plaintively asked, "Who will take care of my little boy?" "I will," said Dr. Witten. And that was the beginning of his boy collection.

Even though they lived in a spacious house with an adequate supporting staff of workers, each boy had a specific responsibility. Beneath the rather martial atmosphere that permeated the place, there was bonding love. The master of ceremonies declared that 300 boys crossed Witten's threshold, and 150 of them received housing and schooling, many attending prestigious colleges and universities. Think of it!

In a voice heavy with emotion, the spokesman said, "Doc will always live in our hearts."

What implementation of the Lord's words: "Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me" (Matt. 25:40).

Forgiveness

Near the end of Irving Stone's powerful novel, Love Is Eternal, about Mary Todd and Abraham Lincoln, there is a moving conversation between Mrs. Lincoln and the President's bodyguard, Parker, who had been summoned to Mrs. Lincoln's room.

"Why were you not at the door to keep the assassin out?" she demanded.

With head bowed, Parker replied, "I have bitterly repented it. But I did not believe that anyone would try to kill so good a man in such a public place. The belief made me careless. I was attracted by the play, and did not see the assassin enter the box"

"You should have seen him. You had no business to be careless" With this, Mrs. Lincoln fell back on her pillow and covered her face with her hands, and from deep emotion, said: "Go now. It's not you I can't forgive; it's the assassin."

Tad, who had spent that miserable night beneath his father's desk in the executive office, drawled, "If Pa had lived, he would have forgiven the man who shot him. Pa forgave everybody."

The comment is reminiscent of Another who, having given His all to reveal love, was rejected by His own and killed by those who should have protected Him. Yet in the agonies of death He prayed: "Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do" (Luke 23:34).

A Friend Indeed!

When in Rhodesia, now Zimbabwe, I asked a friend why Cecil Rhodes did not participate in the gold rush days to augment his fortune in diamonds. "The story goes," he said, "that during the early leasing of the better gold fields, a friend of Rhodes lay desperately ill. The popular and immensely wealthy Rhodes denied himself the privilege of participating in the bidding to sit by his friend's bed, day and night, until he died."

Good Samaritan

The December 27, 1971 issue of Time featured an article entitled, "The Do-Gooders" In reality, it is a modern interpretation of the good Samaritan. It reminds us of individuals who are committed to serving others. Do-gooders are not popular. They never have been, except when needed. Currently the term is frequently used sarcastically or in some derogatory manner. Often it is associated with insincere church members whose stance and spirit in the world fail to coincide with their Sunday profiles. This is a pity, because believers are supposed to be do-gooders, not in a sentimental, sensational, self-righteous way, but in the truest sense of compassion.

Greater Love Has No One ...

Various persons have observed that no one has any more religion than he or she can demonstrate in an emergency. This was certainly true of Arland D. Williams, Jr., a bank examiner with the Federal Reserve System in Atlanta, who was aboard the ill-fated Boeing 737 that crashed in the frigid Potomac River shortly after taking off from Washington's National Airport, January 13, 1982.

Identification of the hero was announced in June of 1983. Representatives from the Coast Guard said when a helicopter lowered a line to survivors, Williams indicated he was trapped (it was later discovered his seat belt was jammed) and passed "the line on to other injured persons" By his not grabbing the rescue line, thus saving valuable time, other passengers were saved.

In presenting the medal to Williams's mother, Virginia L. Williams, Mattoon, Illinois, his teenage son, Arland D. Williams, III, and daughter, Leslie Ann Williams, President Reagan said: "You can live with tremendous pride in your father," (Read John 15:13).

How Do You Think Jesus Looked?

A minister filling in for a teacher of a young boys' class asked, "What do you think Jesus was like?"

Doubtless the pastor expected an answer like: He was a good man; He was a poet; He was a carpenter; He was like God. But no.

One little fellow raised his hand and replied, "I think Jesus was like my Sunday School teacher."

Has anyone ever compared your demeanor and deeds to those of Jesus?

Humble Hero

Lenny Skutnik, a fourteen-thousand-dollar-a-year congressional clerk, was praised by the president, received a thundering ovation from congress, was the personal guest of at least two governors, and received thousands of letters from admirers. All this was because he threw off his coat, dived in the icy Potomac River, January 13, 1982, and rescued Priscilla Tirado from the ill-fated Air Florida Boeing 737 that crashed after hitting a bridge and sank in the waters below. The shy, soft-spoken Skutnik, not overly impressed with himself, commented: "It could have been anybody, I just happened to be there."

Judge Not

A strange but commendable custom existed among the Omaha Indians. When a brave left the bounds of his tribe and would be gone for a while, a campfire council was held on the eve of his departure. Just before the embers fell into ash, the nomad was asked to stand; his great physique silhouetted against the dying flames. At last the warrior was implored to pray: "Great Spirit, help me never to judge another until I have walked two weeks in his moccasins."

A Life at Stake!

G. Ray Jordan relates this story in Religion that Is Eternal (Macmillan, 1960). It centers around the life of the late Rabbi Cohen of Texas during the presidency of William H. Taft. The noted Jewish leader did not sleep well one night because he was concentrating on how to help a certain refugee. Next morning he said to his wife: "Pack my bag; I am going to Washington." On arriving in the capital city he was sorry to learn that the Department of Labor still insisted the case of Lemcauk, the refugee, was one of obvious illegal entry.

The rabbi then called his congressman, insisting that he give him an entree to the President of the United States. Although President Taft was kind and friendly, he told the rabbi that the Lemcauk case was in the hands of the Department and that they had rendered a decision. Realizing that he had lost, the rabbi stood up to leave and thanked the President for seeing him.

"I am sorry this had to happen to you, Rabbi Cohen," President Taft said, "but allow me to say that I certainly admire the way you Jews help each other—to travel all the way from Galveston, Texas, when a member of your faith is in trouble"

"Member of my faith? This man is not a Jew," said the rabbi, "he is a Greek Catholic"

The President's face changed, and in low tones he said: "You mean to say you traveled all the way up here at your own expense to help out a Greek Catholic?"

"He is in trouble; they are going to deport him on the next ship.... He will face a firing squad when he gets back to Russia. He is a human being, Mr. President. A human life is at stake, that is the way I see it."

"Sit down, Rabbi" said the President. He rang for his secretary and gave this wire: "To the Chief Inspector of Immigration at Galveston: Hold Lemcauk in Galveston and release in the custody of Rabbi Cohen on his return" Then he added, "They'll hear direct from the Department."

Loving Spirit

Jonathan Edwards was born September 5, 1703, in East Windsor, Connecticut, where his father was minister of the village church for sixty-four years. Jonathan was a bright boy. He entered Yale at thirteen and graduated at seventeen. Eventually he became assistant to his grandfather, Solomon Stoddard, pastor of the Congregational Church in Northampton, Massachusetts. When Dr. Stoddard died, Jonathan succeeded him at the age of twenty-six. Five years later he stepped into pulpit fame as one of America's most provocative theologians and preachers.

In 1744 controversy developed in his congregation. Gossip made its rounds. Not a single soul united with his church for four years. Agitation for a new minister spread. Personal animosities grew. Finally, in 1750, the church dismissed its minister. Edwards was then forty-seven and had a wife and ten children to support.

The members of Northampton Church soon discovered that their pastor was not easily replaced. His stature was far larger than they had surmised. A bit chagrined, officers of the congregation asked Dr. Edwards if he would supply until his successor was determined. With remarkable grace and effectiveness, Jonathan Edwards returned to the pulpit from which he had been dismissed. After this interim service, the only parish available to the deposed pastor was a small one near Stockbridge, Massachusetts, where he also served as missionary to the Housatonic Indians.

Despite economic hardship and personal embarrassment, the dedicated minister maintained a beautiful and forgiving spirit. It was in this obscure parish that Jonathan Edwards wrote some of his most important works, including The Freedom of the Will Seven years after his dismissal from the prominent pulpit in Northampton, he was called to the presidency of the College of New Jersey, which is now Princeton.

Personal Peace

Show Me the Way to Go Home was Red Barber's spiritual autobiography, a pilgrimage of faith. This noted sports announcer of a few years ago shared his anger with God for taking his mother when she was quite young. Red was so resentful that he stayed away from church for ten years. Eventually, through touch-and-go experiences with his wife, who lost two babies and almost the third, he came to himself. Ultimately he attained the distinction of becoming a lay leader in the Episcopal church.

Red Barber's father was railroad engineer in North Carolina, a good man, quiet, who became increasingly stolid after his wife's death. When his own death was imminent, none of the relatives could remember if the old man had ever been baptized. Deafness made conversation difficult. With his father sitting up in a chair and all but oblivious to what was going on, after the custom of the Episcopal Church, Red baptized his father.

The next day, to everyone's astonishment, the senior Barber raised his head and stuttered, "I want to see a preacher" Being in a Baptist home, they sent for a Baptist pastor who read Scripture and prayed. Afterwards the young minister took the old man's hand for a moment. William Lanier Barber looked him in the eye and with steady voice said, "All my life I have loved God Almighty. That will have to be enough for me now."

Red Barber declared it was the most beautiful, complete confession of a man's faith he had ever witnessed.

Later that afternoon Mr. Barber said three things to his son. "Walter, I want you to have my watch; you are the only one in the family with any sense of time."

Then he said, "Walter, I love you."

His final admonition: "Walter, go on back to your job."

How human can you get? How Christian can you become? The essence of being yourself is when you are yourself before God! Before your family! Before death!

Prophets of Peace

In Chronicle of a Generation, Raymond B. Fosdick, referring to the continuing influence of the American prophet of peace, Woodrow Wilson, wrote, "From his grave his ideals have ruled the future." In a far greater sense, the resurrected Christ seeks to serve and save our world.

Reconciliation

In his book Roads We Travel, the late Frank Pippin, of the Community Christian Church, Kansas City, tells the story of a famed French artist who lived a considerable distance from Paris and who lured a famous Parisian physician to come to his estate under the pretext of a serious illness. When the doctor arrived, he discovered no one was seriously ill but the family dog had a broken leg and he was asked to fix it. Though outraged, the eminent doctor said not a word but set the dog's leg and returned to the city.

Months later the noted physician, in an effort to get even, invited the artist to Paris to do some painting for him. The artist responded. Upon arriving at the given address, the doctor, in an arrogant mood, gave him a bucket of yellow paint saying, "There is a bookcase with no glass doors.... Please paint the wooden doors with yellow paint. That's all."

The artist, sensing the physician's spirit of tit for tat, was not enraged, but accepted the challenge and did a breathtaking scene on each of the wooden doors. When finished the doctor was enthralled, as was every patient who entered his office. The doctor apologized to the artist and the artist to the doctor.

Jesus said, "The kingdom of God is not coming with signs to be observed; nor will they say 'Lo, here it is!' or 'There!' for behold, the Kingdom of God is in the midst of you" (Luke 17:20b-21).

Saint of the Streets

In Something Beautiful for God, Malcolm Muggeridge refers to Mother Teresa of Calcutta as "blest with certainties." This saintly soul, struggling against inconceivable odds, is committed to bringing light, hope, and love to derelicts of India. A growing confidence in God and faith in the presence of Christ keep her going. She claims that whenever a homeless child cries she hears the Babe in Bethlehem.

Suffering Love

Wilfred Grenfell was once asked what influenced him to give himself unreservedly to Christian missions. Slowly he told this story: "Into a hospital where I was a resident physician, a woman was brought one night terribly burned. Immediately it was evident there was no hope for her. Her husband had come home drunk and had thrown a paraffin lamp over her. The police were summoned and at last they brought in the half-sobered husband. The magistrate leaned over the bed and insisted that the patient tell the police exactly what happened. He impressed upon her the importance of telling the whole truth as she only had a little while to live.

"The poor soul turned her face from side to side, avoiding facing her husband, who stood at the foot of the bed. Finally her eyes rested on his strong hands, following them up his arms and shoulders and then across to his face. Their eyes met. Her expression of suffering momentarily disappeared, as tenderness and love colored her countenance. She looked at the magistrate and calmly said, 'Sir, it was just an accident.' and fell back on her pillow, dead"

Grenfell added: "This was like God, and God is like that. His love sees through our sins"

Unmaking Enemies

Time's cover story for April 25, 1983, featured the amazing congressman from Florida, Claude Pepper. Well into his eighties, he continues to work long days and nights. Back in the 1950s he fell on hard times in his party, and was soundly beaten for his senatorial seat by George Smathers. While the tough and tender old politician is not known for holding grudges, it was not until 1982 that he fully forgave Smathers for his campaign tactics.

It came about in this way: An aide suggested that they ask Smathers' law firm for a campaign gift. Reluctantly, the good Baptist agreed and was surprised to receive a check for three-hundred-fifty dollars. Later, in the House dining room, Pepper approached Smathers and solemnly said, "You know that check you sent in for my campaign? Well, it bounced." It had not, of course, and when George Smathers realized Claude Pepper was joking, "both knew that their enmity was over."

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Christmas

Christmas

Isaiah 9:6; Matthew 2:1-6; Matthew 2:10-12; Luke 2:1-20

Glory to God, this wondrous morn,

On earth the Saviour Christ is born.

—Bliss Carman

Have you seen God's Christmas tree in the sky,

With its trillions of tapers blazing high?

—Angela Morgan

Advent, a Season of Expectancy

Advent, the penitential period embracing the four Sundays before Christmas, is a time of reflection on ancient promises and preparation for the continual coming of Christ's spirit into the world. An appropriate epistle for any Advent Sunday: Romans 13:11-14.

An Ancient Greeting

The Italian architect-believer, Fra Giovanni, wrote in 1513:

I salute you. There is nothing I can give you which you have not;

but there is much that, while I cannot give you, you can take.

No heaven can come to us unless our hearts find rest in it today.

Take heaven...

No peace lies in the future which is not hidden in the present.

Take peace...

The gloom of the world is but a shadow; behind it, yet within our

reach is joy. Take joy...

And so at this Christmas time I greet you with the prayer that for

you, now and forever, the day breaks and the shadows flee

away.

Another Bethlehem!

Oklahoma City made startling and shocking news Sunday morning, December 6, 1964. A thirty-one-year-old mother gave birth to a child on the sidewalk at the corner of Sheridan and Broadway. A curious crowd "watched without helping." The woman and her baby lay on the pavement for about forty-five minutes in a temperature of about thirty-four degrees.

A visitor from Tulsa summoned a taxi. When the cab arrived, however, the driver refused to take the mother to the hospital. Then the helpful stranger called the police, to no avail. During the time the woman lay on the sidewalk, two patrol cars passed the scene and neither stopped.

A former state representative chanced that way, stopped and called the fire department for an ambulance. He also sent a man across the street to a hotel to borrow a blanket, but a porter refused him. Meanwhile, the rescue squad arrived. While waiting for an ambulance, Captain Bill Latham of the fire department and the former representative, Bob Cunningham, decided to take the mother and her child to the hospital in the latter's car. And they did.

This unbelievable story, heralded across America Monday, December 7, and doubtless around the world, is reminiscent of what happened in ancient Bethlehem, when another woman was heavy with child. "And she gave birth to her first-born son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn" (Luke 2:7).

The Awe of Christmas Eve

It may come as a surprise to learn that among Albert Einstein's talents was a gift for music. He played the violin and often joined in chamber music sessions in the homes of neighbors and friends. When well past sixty, he decided to give up his participation in chamber ensembles because it was too demanding on his time and digital reflexes. Even so, he continued to play for his own pleasure.

An exception occurred one Christmas Eve when choristers appeared at the Einstein home—112 Mercer Street in Princeton, New Jersey. Hearing the singing, the noble man picked up his violin, went out on the chilly porch, and provided accompaniment for the carolers.

The contagion of Christmas is irresistible! Its charm surrounds and inspires young and old, rich and poor, wise and simple. Grateful souls are impelled to join in carols of praise, even the pious Jew.

Babies Make the Difference

A remarkably revealing article appeared in the August 15, 1983, issue of Time entitled, "What Do Babies Know?" Michael Lewis, a psychologist, presides over the data being gathered by the Institute for the Study of Child Development at Rutgers Medical School, New Brunswick, New Jersey.

Among the startling facts: Babies are born "legally blind." Although unable to see, a newborn nevertheless holds up a hand, as if examining it, within seven minutes after birth. Their ears function well. Within a few weeks they recognize the sound of their mother's voice. Incidently, babies seem to prefer the tone of the female voice over that of the male. At twelve hours old, an infant which has never tasted anything, not even his/her mother's milk, gurgles with satisfaction on receiving a drop of sugar water. At twenty-three days of age the baby can imitate adults.

Beyond risks and costs of rearing children today, having a baby is an act of faith and hope. "It represents a belief in better things to come"

When a wrong needs righting, a truth needs telling, a song needs singing, a soul needs saving—God sends a baby into the world to accomplish it.

Before the Song Started

Before the song started,

The world, brokenhearted,

Was dreamlessly passing the long empty days;

Then a dark, lonely hillside was spangled with light

And a song burst into the night!

 

A new Word was spoken,

And chords that were broken,

Wove gently together to make a new song.

It was more than a carol to greet the new mom—

The Source of all music was born...

 

He started the whole world singing a song—

The words and the music were there all along!

What the song had to say

Was that Love found a way

To start the world singing a song.

Christmas in August!

I shall forever remember the awe that enveloped me as our small party entered the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem. Guides provided slender tapers to light our way down the winding steps to the grotto where tradition says Jesus was born. (How absurd, I thought, to be carrying a candle while looking for the Light of the World!) Upon reaching the designated spot, I found myself standing by a tall, dark man from Sudan. The aura of universal faith and visible ecumenicity generated a holy silence; a silence that constrained us. Presently, a lady, obviously from Europe, without any prompting began to sing, "Silent Night, Holy Night" Within seconds, each joined in singing the carol in his or her own tongue. It was a redemptive moment. Christmas in August!

Christmas: The Harbinger of Peace

Christ of the Andes is an impressive symbol of peace. Once Chile and Argentina were enemies and fought constantly. At last they decided it was in their mutual interest to live in peace. So, high upon their natural boundaries, the Andes Mountains, they erected a great statue of Christ with outstretched arms. The inscription reads: "Sooner shall these mountains crumble into dust than the Argentines and Chileans break the peace sworn at the feet of Christ the Redeemer." Christmas reminds us of the coming of peace to earth.

Jesus was known as the Prince of peace. His motives, manner, and ministry all reflect peace. He said, "Happy are those who make peace, for they will be known as sons of God!" (Matt. 5:9, Phillips).

The Christmas Spirit

Five days after an arsonist destroyed Christmas Village in Bridgeport, Connecticut, December, 1982, city officials and community leaders assembled to see what could be done. For twenty-six years children had come to the "Village" to see animated Christmas scenes, visit with Santa Claus, and receive a toy. The fire had destroyed much of the one-hundred-forty-foot-long building, including many handmade scenes, and about fourteen thousand dollars worth of toys that were to be given away by the Police Athletic League, sponsors of the annual event. Frank Parlatore, a sixty-five-year-old retired factory worker who has been Santa Claus at the Village for twenty-five years, sat near the ruins weeping. A seven-year-old child was among the children who feared Santa had died in the fire.

Meanwhile the community committed and calibrated itself beautifully to restore the building in time for Christmas. With fantastic cooperation and contributions from institutions, trade unions, and individuals, the project went forth. Soon the site was teeming with workers; volunteers with every needed expertise worked around the clock in freezing temperatures. Through remarkable supportiveness and participation, the "Village" was ready for reopening twenty-four hours ahead of schedule.

The mayor of Bridgeport, Leonard S. Paoletta, called it "a miracle." Santa Claus proclaimed it "the best Christmas ever." President Reagan called from Camp David to congratulate the community and to say this is "one of the most inspiring Christmas stories I have heard in years and years and years."

Did Christ Come Too Soon?

Reflecting on the Christmas season with its sacredness, sentimentality, and commercialism brings to mind Maxwell Anderson's provocative drama, The Wingless Victory.

The story is laid in Salem, Massachusetts, in the winter of 1800. Nathaniel McQueston and his wife, Oparre, are the principal characters. Nathaniel, a sea captain, returns home a wealthy man. He brings with him his wife, a Malay princess who saved his life. The McQuestons and their children encounter rebuffs, mingled with self-righteousness. Once a worshiper of tribal gods, Oparre was drawn to the gentle Christ by her husband. Believing in the power of Christianity, she tries to win the love of her husband's people and prejudiced neighbors. Disillusioned and rejected, Oparre repudiates Christ and once again embraces the tenets of her early upbringing. Resolving to die, she returns to the ship with a broken heart. Oparre takes poison and kneels in prayer to the gods of yesterday. While waiting for death she says:

The earth rolls toward the dark,

and men begin to sleep. God of the children,

god of the lesser children of the earth,

the black, the unclean, the vengeful, you are mine

now as when I was a child. He came too soon,

this Christ of peace. Men are not ready yet.

Another hundred thousand years they must drink

your potion of tears and blood.

Divine Insanity

Everybody has seen babies and most people like them. If God wanted to be loved as well as feared, He moved correctly here. If He wanted to know His people as well as rule them, He moved correctly here, for a baby growing up learns all about people. If God wanted to be intimately a part of man, He moved correctly here, for the experience of birth and familyhood is our most intimate and precious experience.

So it comes beyond logic; it is what Bishop Karl Morgan Block used to call a kind of divine insanity. It is either all falsehood or it is the truest thing in the world. It either rises above the tawdriness of what we make of Christmas or it is a part of it and completely irrelevant.

The Gift of a Letter

My wife, Sybil, is a prolific letter writer. She will average two notes a day to acquaintances, family, friends, and former employees. She thoroughly enjoys it, and keeps a detailed diary of events and anniversaries. She is not much on beauty parlors and parties, but great on keeping in touch with people.

The letter, especially a good one, is rapidly disappearing. Even though it is easy "to reach out and touch someone" by telephone, perhaps it is too easy. It takes time and effort to produce a personal letter, and they last, and last.

In writing to the brethren at Corinth, Paul said: "You yourselves are our letter of recommendation, written on your hearts, to be known and read by all men" (2 Cor. 3:2). We not only produce letters, we are Christ's letters of recommendation or repudiation. Since Christmas is the birthday of our Lord, why not send someone who would least expect to hear from you a Christmas letter!

Hoping It Might Be So

Thomas Hardy wrote a poem called The Oxen. In it is expressed the belief by country folk that on Christmas Eve, at twelve o'clock, animals kneel in their stalls in memory of the wondrous birth in a stable in Bethlehem. The poem concludes with Hardy saying if someone told him that in a farm that very night animals were kneeling in the straw, and asked him to come and see, "I should go with him in the gloom, Hoping it might be so."

Keeping Watch Over His Own

Dumas Malone writes in Jefferson, the Virginian (vol. 1, p. 21) that the earliest reference to Thomas Jefferson was his being "carried on a pillow by a mounted slave on the journey from Shadwell (his birthplace) to Tuckahoe," a distance of approximately fifty-eight miles.

This dramatic sentence describing the precarious method of transporting a future President, and the principal architect of the Constitution of the United States—the utter confidence in the slave's ability to deliver the child safely—is reminiscent of a journey made by Joseph and Mary from Nazareth to Bethlehem. It would seem that the destiny of the world rode on the surefootedness of an ass.

Loving Christ

On Christmas Day some years ago, a little boy was seen going in and out of his church several times. When asked, "What gift did you ask of the Christ child?" he replied, "I didn't ask for anything. I was just in there loving Him for a little while."

The Manger and the Cross

Dag Hammarskjold, former secretary-general of the United Nations, wrote in Markings, a manuscript that was published after his death: "How proper it is that Christmas should follow Advent. For him who looks towards the future, the manger is situated on Golgotha, and the cross has already been raised in Bethlehem."

Unique Gifts

A friend told me of an extraordinary manufacturer who gave each of his employees a hanging mirror and a handsome reproduction of the head of Christ for Christmas one year. The Christian businessman presented the gifts personally with these instructions: "Hang the mirror on one side of the room and the picture of Christ directly across the room, so that when you look in the mirror you will see the face of Christ along with yours" Then this pensive admonition: "It's going to take both to get you through."

What Does He Want?

The late Paul Ehrman Scherer, celebrated Lutheran preacher, told the story of a college professor who sat reading a book in the waiting room of a maternity section of a hospital while his own child was being born. When at last a nurse appeared and said, "It's a boy!" the teacher scarcely looked up, but grunted, as was his custom when interrupted by a student, "Ask him what he wants."

Christmas is a good time to ask the Lord what He wants from us on His birthday!

What Do We Mean?

In 1952 pupils in a New York public school were invited by their teacher to mention things associated with Christmas. The children responded spontaneously: "Santa Claus," "Reindeer,"

"Christmas trees" "presents." Then a pensive little girl said, "The birthday of Jesus"

"Oh, no" the teacher replied quickly, "that's not what we mean"

Where Does God Fit In?

A schoolteacher in England tells a charming story. At Christmastime she supervised the construction of a manger scene in a corner of the classroom. The children participated happily in the project. They also enjoyed casting characters for the drama depicting the Nativity.

The teacher noticed one boy was particularly enamored by it all and was forever going back and forth to the scene. At last she asked him if there was anything bothering him. He said, "No" She said, "Are there any questions you would like to ask?" "Yes" he said, "what I'd like to know is—where does God fit in?"

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