Dr. J. Lawrence Cuthill

May 16, 2010

Winter Park Presbyterian Church

It’s Graduate Sunday, corresponding to a season when, all over the country, students are completing one phase of their education and preparing to begin the next chapter, whether it be further education or beginning a career. The occasion is an important milestone, marked by parties, perhaps anxious last-minute submission of papers, paying library fines, baccalaureates, commencements … and of course, lots of advice. Speakers will stand before graduating classes and crank out great pearls of wisdom which are promptly forgotten with the flush of excitement and silliness as graduates mug for the camera when being handed their diploma. I do remember one piece of advice given by Bill Cosby, which went something like the standard fare of a commencement speaker … at first. “As you stand at the threshold of this new leg of life’s journey and face the complex, demanding, and daunting world, I say … don’t go!”

But go you must. Go you will. If you are a little anxious, it may be of some reassurance to know most all of us were … and for good reason. It is a “complex, demanding, and daunting world” … and always has been. I’m not sure my generation is terribly proud of the shape of the world we bequeath to you, but we did what we did, and it is what it is. Now, with that less than glowing assessment, which is not really intended to be as fatalistic as it sounds, we would be so bold as to offer our dollop of advice to tuck into your backpack, with hopes that it won’t be like that Bible you were given to take with you, the one you typically put on a shelf that remains there until a crisis comes along that is bigger than you … and they will.

Since in this context we acknowledge any wisdom originates from a source greater than our intellect and experience, we turn to a dramatic story from the Scripture. It takes place in the early stages of a movement in which some key players stepped out into what was for them a vast world, not a vacuum , mind you, but a stage already buzzing with all kinds of influences, forces, and clashing cultures.

Paul, accompanied by Silas, finds himself in Phillipi, staying at the home of Lydia. One day on their way to the “place of prayer” they ran into a slave-girl who was believed to have a spirit that enabled her to tell fortunes. She was, if you’ll pardon the phrase, a “cash cow” for her owners. Something drew her to Paul and Silas and compelled her to call out “These men are servants of the Most High God and proclaim to you the way of salvation.” This is like free publicity, one might think. (What is the saying in Hollywood: any publicity is good publicity?) But after a while, “many days,” we’re told, it becomes annoying, and Paul has had enough. He turned and cast that spirit out. Now we can get back to the business at hand. Where were we? But resuming their mission, at least as they had planned, was not to be.

The owners of the slave-girl are none too happy to see their money-maker silenced. They seize Paul and Silas and drag them before the authorities.

Now notice they are upset over the effect these men and their message had on their wallet, but they want to legitimize their complaint. “What we experienced is surely the fate of all if this movement is left unchecked. We’re not against a little religion. It’s got its place, and it ought to stay there. These … Jews are disturbing the city. They are advocating customs that aren’t healthy for the common good . . . before long these aliens are gonna’ take over, and our way of life lost!” Didn’t take long for their loss to become everyone’s, and for hysteria to set in – the sky is falling, and the citizenry became a vigilante-like mob. They attacked, stripped, and flogged Paul and Silas, then had them thrown in jail. How they must have felt! I’m reminded of Teresa of Avila’s comment after a particularly rough day: “Lord, if this is the way you treat your friends, no wonder you don’t have too many.”

Now we have Paul and Silas locked in the deepest bowels of a prison that would easily qualify today as cruel and unusual punishment. Feet fastened in stocks, they are bruised and bloody, wallowing in self pity. True, up to that last phrase. There’s not a trace of “poor me” in either. In fact, they are singing and praying. There’s a phrase: “they sang up a storm; they prayed up a storm,” but in this case it was an earthquake. The upshot was the doors were jarred open, and the chains must have come out of the walls.

The jailer, bless his heart (this was a Southern Province), awakes, realizes the situation, and knows he is in deep trouble. The fate of a jailer whose prisoners escape is worse than death, so he was about to make a pre-emptive strike, i.e. fall on his own sword. Before he can do the deed, Paul shouted, “Hold on there; we’re here!” So, impressed by their restraint, he asks, realizing these men were free even inside a prison, “What must I do to be saved?” The result: he and his whole family became believers.

In the time that remains let’s take the mouse, click and drag some elements of this story into our time, our story:

These two men are on a mission to which they are totally committed … the proclamation of Christ’s saving love and building the kingdom of God on earth. What is your particular role in this grand mission, your mission? Having a clear sense of mission gives focus to life . . . and adds years. I’ve just finished reading a book entitled Blue Zones.* It identifies four locations in the world where one finds the greatest percentage of inhabitants becoming Centenarians, living to 100+ years old. One of several common factors is “plan de vida,” a strong sense of purpose. It’s a very interesting study and encourages us to identify and live our purpose, one that God has in mind for you from long ago … perhaps to go and do what you never imagined, but is God’s call on your life, and from which you derive deep joy.

*Blue Zones, Dan Buettner, p. 223

The task of living, and the mission, is bigger than any of us. None of us has everything we need to negotiate what lies before us. This notion of the independent, self-made man/person is a myth. This truth flies in the face of our pride, but I maintain, whether we realize it or not, … life is bigger than we are … and I say it on good authority. Frederick Buechner says your mission, your purpose is where a deep sense of joy and the world’s greatest need intersect.

It is illustrated by a man who related this first-person story:

I was parked in front of a mall, wiping off my car, having just come from the car wash and waiting for my wife to get off work. Coming my way from across the parking lot was what society would consider a bum. From his looks, he had no home, no clean clothes, and no money.

There are times you’re feeling generous and times you just don’t want to be bothered. The latter was the case that day. I hoped he wouldn’t ask.

He didn’t.

He sat on the curb in front of the bus stop within earshot. I don’t think he had the fare for the bus. After a few minutes, he spoke. “Pretty car,” he said. He was ragged, but he had an air of dignity about him. “Thanks,” I said, and continued wiping down the car.

He sat quietly. The expected plea for money never came. In the silence, something inside me pressed, “Ask him if he needs any help.” “Of course he does,” I muttered to myself, and finally relented.

“You need any help?” I asked.

He answered in three simple words I will never forget. We expect profundity from learned folk, wisdom from accomplished people. I expected little from this man, except a grimy outstretched hand. His answer took me completely by surprise. “Don’t we all?” he said.

I was feeling superior, successful; important, above the rabble – certainly the street people, until these three words somehow penetrated and shook me to the core. “Don’t we all.”

I needed help. Not the kind he did. Bus fare, a bite to eat, but I needed help. I reached for my wallet and gave him enough to get by for several days, but I got the better part of that deal by far. Three little words. They rang in my ear.

No matter how much you have – how much you’ve accomplished, I/you still need help. Maybe that man was just a homeless stranger, or maybe he was more than that. Maybe he was a messenger sent by God to a soul who had covered over his need with comforts and pride and muffled the heart’s cry for help – to be human – to be saved.

Even Paul realizes he needs help and asks Silas to go along. The slave-girl needed help. The jailer needed help. Some slave owners who exploited a young woman needed help, but didn’t know it, and a whole crowd of people who were angry, fearful, and reactive over the wrong thing needed help.

It’s there for the asking, but we’re often so reluctant. Again, is it pride? Probably, for many. To expose need, feelings of inadequacy? Is it fear? Probably. What if people say no, think less of you. It’s pretty hard to face! But, it’s not nearly as hard as fumbling along alone … or marching resolutely without someone to share the road and the load.

We were created to be in relationship. “No man is an island,” wrote John Donne. “It is not for man to be alone.” . . . And experience has proven it ever since. It’s even been argued we are not really fully human in isolation.

Application:
Mission à Friends à Help

Choose your friends carefully. You see the challenge – the mission is bigger than any one of us. What we could not accomplish alone is possible together. And along the way … HELP. The sum is greater than the parts.

AMEN