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 Luke 10:25-37
From time to time it is a good thing for you to take the temperature of your heart. How do you relate to other people - family, friends, neighbors, strangers and yes, even your enemies? We know how we want people to treat us, how we want respect. We want people to be considerate of us and to be there when we are troubled and in need. And much of the time we are satisfied if somebody will just acknowledge that we exist and treat us with respect. In turn, this is what we should give forth to other people. This is the Golden Rule.
And please know there is gold in that Golden Rule.
At least once a year I talk about the most memorable Christmas card I ever received -- a very simple card from a dear friend of mine, Amos Parrish. It was just a single piece of heavy white paper with one word written diagonally across the card in red ink. The word was "others." When I called him to tell him how much the card meant to me, he said, "Arthur, isn't that what Christianity is all about? Others?" And he was right. So from time to time it is good that you take the temperature of your heart, how you relate to and helpfully touch other lives.
I think that most people would like to make a big impact, a big contribution to humanity. We would like to do something big, and many of you are doing something big. But never, ever, underestimate or belittle or take for granted the little thing, because time and time again the little thing becomes very, very big.
This was illustrated to me dramatically not long ago when I had lunch with three members of the church's board, three Elders: Valery Craane, Gregory Walker, and John Rorer. They are at the top of their professions. They do what most people would consider "big" things at work every day.
At lunch that day Valery was talking about an experience she had in the subway. Valery's fare card that day wouldn't work. She swiped it once, twice, three times. It became frustrating, and a train was coming that she didn't want to miss. A woman standing next to her said, "Let me help you." The woman put her card into the turnstile, and Valery caught the train. Valery tried to pay the woman for the fare, but she wouldn't take it. Valery couldn't get over it, how generous and kind this stranger was to her. As she was talking, I was aware of what a little thing that was, but what a big impression it made to a stranger.
And then Greg Walker referred to a subject that is often discussed in this church at Thanksgiving, where the suggestion is made that we find somebody who made an important impact on our lives and contact that person and let them know what they did for us, and say thank-you. And very humbly Greg said, "I don't do enough of that."
And then John Rorer referred back a few months to when he was critically ill. When I say "critically ill", John, for several days, was on the edge. He had hemorrhaging in his brain that required very complicated surgery. He's alive today because of grace and prayer and superb, superb surgeons.
Well, he thought he would do something to thank the six doctors that had operated on him. So he invited them to the Botanical Garden for lunch and for a private tour of the garden. While they were having lunch one of them said to him, "You know, John, how rare it is that people thank us." And these are life-saving people, with tremendous skill.
So, never minimize, never take for granted, the importance and the power of the little thing.
The other day I was on the New Hampshire turnpike. I went through the toll booth there. The toll is a dollar. I'd pay ten dollars, sometimes, for what I get. I always look forward to going to that tollbooth. Why? They are the friendliest toll-keepers in the entire world. They're always going to say something nice to you. When I drove that day, the man said, "Sir, could you hold a moment?" He was fiddling with some bills and putting them aside.
And I said, "Sure." Then he took the money and he said, "Have a nice day." That was good, to me, for the next hundred miles.
Little things like that make a big, big, big impact.
Sometimes we are so busy we forget about the little things in life. There is an easy way to always ensure that we remember: wherever we are, whomever we're with, whatever we are about, we can do something helpful.
At times we hesitate to do the little, helpful thing because of insecurity or uncertainty. We worry what to do. We worry whether others will be appreciative. We even worry that no one wants us to help. But figure out what you think is the right thing to do, and then just do it, and let it go.
Sometimes we are stopped from doing the helpful thing because of our own prejudices and dislikes. We might normally be very loving and helpful people, but find ourselves totally unwilling to help someone we dislike or disapprove of. When we find ourselves knowing we should help but unwilling to, that is the time to rise above any judgment we are making and help anyway. When you do this, you will like yourself so much more afterwards.
During my senior year in college at Ohio Wesleyan University, one Sunday I was having lunch at a little rural church I used to attend. I was sitting with an older couple. The wife was a staunch member of the Women's Christian Temperance Union. She had no tolerance for anybody who ever drank alcohol. She very matter-of-factly told me of something that had happened a few nights before. They lived on a little highway and there was an accident where a young man was thrown from the car and landed on their front lawn. When she went out there to help him, she smelled alcohol on his breath. She said, "You deserved what happened to you," and walked away, letting somebody else help him.
Now, that is an extreme case, but we can all relate to the basic premise, that this woman let her prejudice get in the way of doing something good. When we disagree with or don't like somebody, there's a prejudice that stands in the way, and we don't do what we should. We don't do the right thing - the helpful thing - the little thing.
One of the greatest stories of all time is the Good Samaritan. As you know, it's a powerful story about a man who was traveling on a highway, set upon by robbers, beaten up and robbed and left to die. Three people came by. The first two kept to themselves and crossed by on the other side. The third one, a stranger, saw the man lying there bleeding and dying, stopped and helped him.
Now, it happened that that man was a Samaritan, and Samaritans and Jews at that time were enemies. It's like the Palestinians and the Jews today. In the story of the Good Samaritan, however, this didn't matter, because what was going on was an interaction between two souls, two children of God, two human beings - one of them in need, and the other of them with the wherewithal to help the one in need. That's the beauty and the greatness of that story.
So when you're in doubt, do the right thing. Just do it. God will take care of the rest of it.
Recently PBS aired a revised edition of The Civil War by Ken Burns that was magnificently done. The other night I saw the last part of the last segment, where the war ended. General Lee realized there was nothing else that he could do, and so he surrendered to General Grant. The devastation, the killing and the meanness that had happened in the last four years had been indescribable. But the two of them met as gentlemen and, I might add, with respect. After some conversation, General Grant said to General Lee, "Your men must be hungry."
Lee replied, "They're famished." And Grant immediately ordered twenty-five thousand rations to be delivered to the opposing army. And he did the right thing. We don't always do such things with our enemies, but every human being, enemy or friend, is a soul, a child of God, and wants the same respect, the same consideration, the same helpfulness, that we do.
Marian Patterson, a member of the staff here at Marble, who oversees the ushers and greeters, gave me this little piece called "My Seat."
A lady took my seat in church a while back.
It's not that important really. She is a very nice lady, kind and considerate. A good friend, in fact. There were several other seats available. I can sit any place. The people in our congregation are as friendly and caring as you will find any place in the world. A person should be comfortable sitting any place. It's no big deal.
My seat is in the seventh row back from the front of the church. I'm sure she didn't intend to take my seat. She just wouldn't do that. Nor would anybody else in our fine church. It doesn't make that much difference.
My seat is on the end of the pew, on the north side by the windows. On your left as you come into the sanctuary. I can rest my left arm on the end of the pew. It's a good seat. But I would never raise a fuss about a seat? She probably didn't intend anything personal by taking my seat. I would never hold a grudge?
Actually it was about three months ago when she took my seat. I really don't know why she took it. I've never done anything to her. I've never taken her seat. I suppose I'll have to come an hour early now to get my seat.
Either that or sit on the south side.
She really took it because it's one of the best seats in the house. That's why she took it. She had no business taking my seat? And I'm not going to go to church two hours early to get what was rightfully mine from the beginning.
This is the way great social injustices begin: abusive people taking over other people's seats in church. This is the way the seeds of revolution are sown. A person can only stand so much. Where is it going to end? If somebody doesn't stand up and be counted, nobody's seat will be safe. People will just sit any place they please. And the next thing they'll do is take my parking place too.
World order will be in shambles.
You know, this is funny, it may not apply to us, but.... In our own journey, as we take the temperature of our hearts, we must be careful that whatever littleness we might have, whatever dark side might be represented in us, doesn't become big.
One last story, from Dr. Rachel Remen, a physician on the West Coast that now spends most of her time counseling cancer patients. She tells a story in her book Kitchen Table Wisdom about a man who all his life had been extraordinarily good. In fact, this man was so very good that the angels got together and appealed to God to give him the special gift of miracles, that any miracle this man wanted to do, he would have the gift to do it. And so when they asked God for this gift, God said, "Why don't you ask the man what he would like?"
The man thought for awhile, and then he replied, "You know what I'd like? I'd like to be able to do a lot of good and not know about it."
The angels were perplexed. They had a meeting, and they came up with this ingenious plan, that the man's shadow would have special powers: the power of healing, the power to ease pain, the power to bring comfort where people were sorrowing. And so, for the rest of his life, wherever this man went, his shadow followed him and had a dramatic influence on people. His shadow came to be known - and I love this - as the holy shadow. Wherever he went, there was holiness behind him. He did good, no matter what, and he didn't even know about it.
Do good, no matter what. Take the temperature of your heart, and realize that the little things that seem to be unimportant, can be the most important things. Wouldn't it be wonderful if every single one of us had behind us the holy shadow? Let us pray.
Lord, let us live and love so unselfishly that we have that holy shadow. Bless us, that we might bless others. AMEN |
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