Who's To Say?
Sermon
Life Injections II
Further Connections Of Scripture To The Human Experience
... Cyrus, whose right hand I grasp ...
When something good occurs as two people meet, it could well have been orchestrated by God.
I think it is safe to say that all of us are creatures of habit. We tend to go through various daily routines and rituals and seldom do we ever break from those routines or rituals. So when something possesses us to do so, it tends to be memorable.
One morning, not long ago, heading over to the hospital from my room at the School of Nursing, I had such a memorable experience. I stopped by the switchboard, as I usually do, to check whether the computer printouts had been picked up. If they haven't, I'll take them to the office and, if they have, I'll proceed to the cafeteria. That's my habit, that's my routine.
That particular morning, the papers were picked up. As I took a few steps towards the cafeteria I stopped and, for some strange reason, did something I usually don't do. I turned around and headed for the office. I was going to do something I usually do after breakfast. As I waited for the elevator, someone came hurriedly around the corner. It was the wife of a patient I had gotten to know in ICU. As soon as she saw me, she started to cry, telling me that the hospital had just called to say her husband had taken a turn for the worse. I embraced her and we walked arm-in-arm all the way to ICU. When we got there, her husband had improved. He was holding his own. Considerably relieved, the wife proceeded to thank me profusely for being there. When she got to the hospital, she had no idea how she was going to make it to ICU. The fact that I was there when she got to the elevator made all the difference in the world.
Now, what possessed me to break from my usual morning routine, something that I seldom, if ever, do? What possessed me to be at that elevator just at the time she arrived at the hospital? I think that the answer can be found in our first reading today.
Cyrus, the Persian king, happened to arrive on the world scene just when God's people needed him the most. Isaiah sees his timely arrival as the hand of God at work in the world. Cyrus wasn't aware of that. He wasn't even a believer. Yet Isaiah tells us that even though he knew it not, God used him to do some good in the world.
I couldn't help but think that what happened to Cyrus happened to me on that particular morning at Sisters Hospital. Even though I didn't know it at the time, even though I had no inkling of God invading my life, who's to say that that wasn't precisely what happened? Though I knew it not, God used me to work some good in the world.
I cannot but recall that piece from Charles Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities1 where two people are being taken to the guillotine. One of them is a young man who took the place of his friend. The other is a young girl, terribly frightened. When she sees the strength and the calmness in the young man's face, she says to him: "Give me your hand that I may have some of your strength." He gave her his hand and as they arrived at the guillotine, she said to him: "Thank you. I think you were sent to me by God."
Now, we're talking fiction here, of course, but who's to say that at times we're not sent by God to places where our presence, our interaction, our words provide something that positively influences the life of someone else? Like Cyrus, we wouldn't be aware of that, we wouldn't realize that. But who is to say that God doesn't use us? Who's to say that God doesn't arrange for us to be in the presence of people in need, of people who are hurting, of people who are on the brink of making a terrible decision? Who's to say that, unbeknownst to them and us, God decided to be of help and used our words, our presence, and our interaction with them to provide that help?
Besides our being used by God or being sent by God, who's to say, as well, that we haven't been on the receiving end of such an action? Who's to say that God hasn't used someone to affect us, to uplift us, or to move us into an action or activity that has brightened the dark world in which we happen to live?
That could well be the case with the young nun who for twenty years taught the wealthiest children in the land where she happened to work. One night walking down the street she heard a woman call for help. Realizing the seriousness of her condition, she rushed her to the hospital where she was told to sit and wait. She knew the woman would die without immediate attention so she took her to another hospital. Again she was told to wait. The woman's social caste made her less important than the others being treated. Finally, in desperation, she took the woman home, and later that night she died in her arms. That encounter would change that nun's life. She decided to quit her teaching and begin establishing clinics and homes devoted to the poor and the dying. She wanted to make sure that they would be treated with the dignity and the respect that they deserve. That nun I'm referring to is Mother Teresa.
Now who is to say that God didn't use that dying woman unbeknownst to her and to Mother Teresa? Who's to say that that dying woman wasn't a vehicle that God ordained so that Mother Teresa could begin the great work that she did?
Think in your own lives how you got involved in Mother Teresa type activities. Think about ways you may have found yourself volunteering for something that required sacrifice and giving on your part. I'll bet that for some of you it was because a special someone touched your life at the right time and in the right place and moved you to volunteer. It could well be that God used that special someone unbeknownst to both of you. It could well be that God played a part in your life as God did in the life of Mother Teresa. I would think the same holds true for countless others engaged in activities bringing light to this darkened world.
Harry Emerson Fosdick says that we can see the hand of God in all the discoveries and all the revelations that came from the scientific laboratories all across the land. Many of the cures and many of the insights into genetics, many of the various breakthroughs for some of the chronic disorders that plague our world came and come our way compliments of people used by God. They may not be religious at all. They may not even be believers. Nonetheless, like Cyrus in our first reading, God didn't hesitate to use their life to bring forth good in the world. So, it could be you or it could be me, it could be a stranger or someone you know, it could be a believer or a non-believer. No one is exempt from being a vehicle of God for God often chooses to use a life unbeknownst to the inhabiter of that life.
Samuel Miller was Dean of the Divinity School at Harvard for many years. He recalled once a pantomime performed on the stage of the Bavarian Opera House. The pantomime began with a stage that was bare except for one circle of light. A clown began to search very diligently for something he had lost. After a time, a policeman came up and asked: "Have you lost something?" "The key to my house," replied the clown. "If I can't find it, I can't go home tonight!" With that, the policeman joined in the search with great intensity. Finally he asked: "Are you sure you lost it here?" "Oh, no, I lost it over there," said the clown, pointing to the darkened part of the stage. "Then why on earth are you looking here?" "Because there is no light over there!"
That humorous pantomime captures a tendency that we all have to look for God where the light happens to be shining. We figure God to use people in the religious or social limelight to dispense his grace. But the truth is that God is more likely to be at work in the shadows, tapping unknown, unsuspecting, and unlikely individuals to be vehicles of his grace in offices and stores and streets, away from the lights of the cameras recording the nightly news.
William Wolcott, a great English artist, came to New York City in 1924 to record his impressions of the skyscraper city. He found himself one morning in the architect's office of a colleague for whom he had worked years before in England. Suddenly, the urge to sketch came over him. He quickly said to his colleague: "Please, I need some paper!" Seeing some paper on the desk, he said: "May I have that?" The architectural colleague said: "That's not sketching paper, Mr. Wolcott, that's just ordinary wrapping paper." Wolcott, not wanting to lose the inspiration, reached out and said: "Nothing is ordinary if you know how to use it!" He took the wrapping paper and made two sketches. One sold for a thousand dollars and the other for five hundred dollars.
Like Wolcott, God doesn't hesitate to use whatever is available to work good in the world. He might use ordinary people like you and me or he might use a Cyrus-type, some Nobel Prize winner or head of state, or he might use an obscure, dying woman in Calcutta. There is no telling whom God might use to sketch for someone the hope, the inspiration, the strength, the insight that will impact either his or her own life, the life of someone else, the life of the world, or all three.
F. W. Robertson is a name few of you would know. He was a famous preacher who worked a lot of good in his role as a minister. For his life's work, he wanted to be a soldier as his father and grandfather had been and as his three brothers were. The problem was that he could not secure a commission, so he ended up taking the advice of a friend and went to Oxford to prepare for the Christian ministry. Five days after his arrival at Oxford, the military commission came. He longed to accept it, but he felt he had pledged himself to be a minister and could not go back on his pledge. Nobody now doubts that ministry was his true calling or that if ever a man was designed for ministry, Robertson was.
In papers found after he died, Robertson reflected on the fact that had he not met that friend who advised him to go to Oxford, he would have probably been a soldier. If he had not known a certain lady, he would not have met that friend. He mused that perhaps that woman and that friend were used by God to move his life in the direction that it took.
Indeed, who's to say that God didn't use me when I met that wife of the patient at the door of that elevator? Who's to say that a friend of yours, an acquaintance of yours, wasn't used by God to get you to perform some loving, charitable action? Who's to say that God won't use us to work some good in someone's life, and who's to say that God won't send someone to us to work some good in our lives? Like Cyrus, it can happen unbeknownst to us. God works the shadows. God sketches with anything he can find. So next time you break from a habit, it might be God using you for one of his inspirations.
____________
1. Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities (London: J. B. Lippincot Co., 1930).
When something good occurs as two people meet, it could well have been orchestrated by God.
I think it is safe to say that all of us are creatures of habit. We tend to go through various daily routines and rituals and seldom do we ever break from those routines or rituals. So when something possesses us to do so, it tends to be memorable.
One morning, not long ago, heading over to the hospital from my room at the School of Nursing, I had such a memorable experience. I stopped by the switchboard, as I usually do, to check whether the computer printouts had been picked up. If they haven't, I'll take them to the office and, if they have, I'll proceed to the cafeteria. That's my habit, that's my routine.
That particular morning, the papers were picked up. As I took a few steps towards the cafeteria I stopped and, for some strange reason, did something I usually don't do. I turned around and headed for the office. I was going to do something I usually do after breakfast. As I waited for the elevator, someone came hurriedly around the corner. It was the wife of a patient I had gotten to know in ICU. As soon as she saw me, she started to cry, telling me that the hospital had just called to say her husband had taken a turn for the worse. I embraced her and we walked arm-in-arm all the way to ICU. When we got there, her husband had improved. He was holding his own. Considerably relieved, the wife proceeded to thank me profusely for being there. When she got to the hospital, she had no idea how she was going to make it to ICU. The fact that I was there when she got to the elevator made all the difference in the world.
Now, what possessed me to break from my usual morning routine, something that I seldom, if ever, do? What possessed me to be at that elevator just at the time she arrived at the hospital? I think that the answer can be found in our first reading today.
Cyrus, the Persian king, happened to arrive on the world scene just when God's people needed him the most. Isaiah sees his timely arrival as the hand of God at work in the world. Cyrus wasn't aware of that. He wasn't even a believer. Yet Isaiah tells us that even though he knew it not, God used him to do some good in the world.
I couldn't help but think that what happened to Cyrus happened to me on that particular morning at Sisters Hospital. Even though I didn't know it at the time, even though I had no inkling of God invading my life, who's to say that that wasn't precisely what happened? Though I knew it not, God used me to work some good in the world.
I cannot but recall that piece from Charles Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities1 where two people are being taken to the guillotine. One of them is a young man who took the place of his friend. The other is a young girl, terribly frightened. When she sees the strength and the calmness in the young man's face, she says to him: "Give me your hand that I may have some of your strength." He gave her his hand and as they arrived at the guillotine, she said to him: "Thank you. I think you were sent to me by God."
Now, we're talking fiction here, of course, but who's to say that at times we're not sent by God to places where our presence, our interaction, our words provide something that positively influences the life of someone else? Like Cyrus, we wouldn't be aware of that, we wouldn't realize that. But who is to say that God doesn't use us? Who's to say that God doesn't arrange for us to be in the presence of people in need, of people who are hurting, of people who are on the brink of making a terrible decision? Who's to say that, unbeknownst to them and us, God decided to be of help and used our words, our presence, and our interaction with them to provide that help?
Besides our being used by God or being sent by God, who's to say, as well, that we haven't been on the receiving end of such an action? Who's to say that God hasn't used someone to affect us, to uplift us, or to move us into an action or activity that has brightened the dark world in which we happen to live?
That could well be the case with the young nun who for twenty years taught the wealthiest children in the land where she happened to work. One night walking down the street she heard a woman call for help. Realizing the seriousness of her condition, she rushed her to the hospital where she was told to sit and wait. She knew the woman would die without immediate attention so she took her to another hospital. Again she was told to wait. The woman's social caste made her less important than the others being treated. Finally, in desperation, she took the woman home, and later that night she died in her arms. That encounter would change that nun's life. She decided to quit her teaching and begin establishing clinics and homes devoted to the poor and the dying. She wanted to make sure that they would be treated with the dignity and the respect that they deserve. That nun I'm referring to is Mother Teresa.
Now who is to say that God didn't use that dying woman unbeknownst to her and to Mother Teresa? Who's to say that that dying woman wasn't a vehicle that God ordained so that Mother Teresa could begin the great work that she did?
Think in your own lives how you got involved in Mother Teresa type activities. Think about ways you may have found yourself volunteering for something that required sacrifice and giving on your part. I'll bet that for some of you it was because a special someone touched your life at the right time and in the right place and moved you to volunteer. It could well be that God used that special someone unbeknownst to both of you. It could well be that God played a part in your life as God did in the life of Mother Teresa. I would think the same holds true for countless others engaged in activities bringing light to this darkened world.
Harry Emerson Fosdick says that we can see the hand of God in all the discoveries and all the revelations that came from the scientific laboratories all across the land. Many of the cures and many of the insights into genetics, many of the various breakthroughs for some of the chronic disorders that plague our world came and come our way compliments of people used by God. They may not be religious at all. They may not even be believers. Nonetheless, like Cyrus in our first reading, God didn't hesitate to use their life to bring forth good in the world. So, it could be you or it could be me, it could be a stranger or someone you know, it could be a believer or a non-believer. No one is exempt from being a vehicle of God for God often chooses to use a life unbeknownst to the inhabiter of that life.
Samuel Miller was Dean of the Divinity School at Harvard for many years. He recalled once a pantomime performed on the stage of the Bavarian Opera House. The pantomime began with a stage that was bare except for one circle of light. A clown began to search very diligently for something he had lost. After a time, a policeman came up and asked: "Have you lost something?" "The key to my house," replied the clown. "If I can't find it, I can't go home tonight!" With that, the policeman joined in the search with great intensity. Finally he asked: "Are you sure you lost it here?" "Oh, no, I lost it over there," said the clown, pointing to the darkened part of the stage. "Then why on earth are you looking here?" "Because there is no light over there!"
That humorous pantomime captures a tendency that we all have to look for God where the light happens to be shining. We figure God to use people in the religious or social limelight to dispense his grace. But the truth is that God is more likely to be at work in the shadows, tapping unknown, unsuspecting, and unlikely individuals to be vehicles of his grace in offices and stores and streets, away from the lights of the cameras recording the nightly news.
William Wolcott, a great English artist, came to New York City in 1924 to record his impressions of the skyscraper city. He found himself one morning in the architect's office of a colleague for whom he had worked years before in England. Suddenly, the urge to sketch came over him. He quickly said to his colleague: "Please, I need some paper!" Seeing some paper on the desk, he said: "May I have that?" The architectural colleague said: "That's not sketching paper, Mr. Wolcott, that's just ordinary wrapping paper." Wolcott, not wanting to lose the inspiration, reached out and said: "Nothing is ordinary if you know how to use it!" He took the wrapping paper and made two sketches. One sold for a thousand dollars and the other for five hundred dollars.
Like Wolcott, God doesn't hesitate to use whatever is available to work good in the world. He might use ordinary people like you and me or he might use a Cyrus-type, some Nobel Prize winner or head of state, or he might use an obscure, dying woman in Calcutta. There is no telling whom God might use to sketch for someone the hope, the inspiration, the strength, the insight that will impact either his or her own life, the life of someone else, the life of the world, or all three.
F. W. Robertson is a name few of you would know. He was a famous preacher who worked a lot of good in his role as a minister. For his life's work, he wanted to be a soldier as his father and grandfather had been and as his three brothers were. The problem was that he could not secure a commission, so he ended up taking the advice of a friend and went to Oxford to prepare for the Christian ministry. Five days after his arrival at Oxford, the military commission came. He longed to accept it, but he felt he had pledged himself to be a minister and could not go back on his pledge. Nobody now doubts that ministry was his true calling or that if ever a man was designed for ministry, Robertson was.
In papers found after he died, Robertson reflected on the fact that had he not met that friend who advised him to go to Oxford, he would have probably been a soldier. If he had not known a certain lady, he would not have met that friend. He mused that perhaps that woman and that friend were used by God to move his life in the direction that it took.
Indeed, who's to say that God didn't use me when I met that wife of the patient at the door of that elevator? Who's to say that a friend of yours, an acquaintance of yours, wasn't used by God to get you to perform some loving, charitable action? Who's to say that God won't use us to work some good in someone's life, and who's to say that God won't send someone to us to work some good in our lives? Like Cyrus, it can happen unbeknownst to us. God works the shadows. God sketches with anything he can find. So next time you break from a habit, it might be God using you for one of his inspirations.
____________
1. Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities (London: J. B. Lippincot Co., 1930).
