[Propertalk] Fwd: Sermon Resources for November 20 - Part 2

[Joe Parrish]

The Gap between Words and Action

One of my favorite cartoons of all time is one from the Peanuts comic strip. In this particular one, Snoopy is sitting in the doorway of his dog house shivering violently during a winter storm. You can see that it is near Christmas time by the decorations on the dog house. Charlie Brown and Lucy are walking by - all bundled up and warm as toast. They offer a greeting, "Be of good cheer, Snoopy," Charlie Brown says. "Yes, be of good cheer," Lucy replies. And they keep on walking as Snoopy sits there with chattering teeth.

The message of the cartoon was powerful. The most noxious lifestyle of all is when compassionate words come from a care-less heart. Snoopy would no doubt prefer a blanket over a greeting. A compassionate heart is a reflection of the heart of God.

John Jewell, Be Compassionate
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Mommy, I'm Hungry

It's been years, but I remember Fred Craddock telling of the time he attended a conference on hunger. Influential, knowledgeable speakers had been brought in from all over to talk on the subject. Near the end of the conference, Fred says, a young, willowy woman got up to speak. Her long straight hair fell down her back, almost to her waist. She carried a legal pad to the podium and began reading.

At first, Craddock says, he couldn't follow what she was saying. Eventually, it dawned on him, as it did all the other listeners. She was reading the same sentence over and over, each time in a different language. Finally, at the very end, she spoke the sentence in English. All the time she was saying, "Mommy, I'm hungry. Mommy, I'm hungry."

She was the most powerful speaker of the entire conference, Craddock says. At least, she had the most impact upon him. As he and his group drove back to Atlanta, alongside the highway he read a billboard he had seen numerous times. Before, he had hardly even noticed it. This time he did. It said, "All You Can Eat Buffet, $4.99." This time, Craddock says, that message seemed to him to be obscene.

Guilt can be a powerful motivator.

Randy L. Hyde, The Scavenger Hunt
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The Long Reach of an Act of Kindness
 
Alex Haley, the author of Roots tells the story of how his father had his life changed by a simple act of kindness:
 
He was the youngest of eight children, living as a sharecropping family.  Everyone in the family was needed to help with the crops.  After several years of schooling the family pressed each child into service on the farm. Fortunately the boy's mother intervened on behalf of her child and was allowed to stay in school. When he was ready for college he chose the Lane Institute, working as many as four jobs in addition to full-time studies.  It was all physically and emotionally wearing.

He worked for a summer as a porter on a train and happened to meet a man early in the morning who couldn't sleep and wanted to talk.  This man was impressed by a black porter working to earn money for college and tipped him the unimaginable sum of five dollars.

By the end of the summer Mr. Haley had to decide whether to convert his summer earnings into a mule and begin to sharecrop, or to stretch to complete his last year at school.  He took the risk of competing college.  

Alex Haley tells us what happened next: "When Dad arrived on campus, the president called him into his office and showed him a letter he had just received.  The letter was from the elderly man whom my father had met on the train, and it contained a check for $518 to cover Dad's tuition and living expenses for one full year." The kindness of an unknown friend made all the difference in the life of Alex Haley's father, Alex Haley himself, and every succeeding generation of that family.

As a person who has been in just a minor degree of need, I know what the acts of love and care performed by virtual strangers can mean.
 
Richard J. Fairchild, When Lord, Did We See You
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The Weakest Link
 
>From time to time, I have both revealed my true age and tested the outer limits of your memory by talking about the games I once played as a child. But, to my knowledge, I never once mentioned that grand old standby of playgrounds everywhere, "Red Rover." 
 
Start with two teams. Could be five to a team. Could be ten to a team. Red Rover is one game where almost any number can play. Call one team "Team A." The other, "Team B." String each team into a line. Have each line face each other, several yards apart. Encourage each team's members to join hands or link arms... whatever it takes to unify the line and make it solid. Then have Team A single out one member of Team B to test the strength of that linkage. 
 
Together, Team A calls across the playground divide: "Red Rover, Red Rover, let Billy cross over." At which point, Billy (from his position on Team B) sucks in his breath, marshals his adrenaline, engages his feet and runs pell-mell toward Team A's line, trying to break through. If Billy can't... break through, I mean... then he is captured and must remain a member of Team A. If, however, Billy does manage to break through, then he selects a member of Team A... usually the strongest and fastest member of Team A... to take back home and join Team B. The game goes on until one team is out of players. Or until recess ends. 
 
Some schools, I am told, now forbid the playing of Red Rover on the grounds that it has the potential to become overly rough and violent. Truth be told, I suspect most kids play it anyway. 
As a kid, I quickly learned that, in playing Red Rover, my head was as important as my body. When the opposing team called, "Red Rover, Red Rover, let Billy cross over," they were counting on the fact that they would be able to keep my body from penetrating their line... given that I clearly and obviously lacked the girth then that I possess now. They had absolutely no respect for my physical prowess... failing to see in me the athletic behemoth I would one day become. 
 
But while I may have been spindly, I was far from stupid. I knew I did not have to overwhelm all 20 kids in that line. I only had to overwhelm one... or at most, two. Somewhere in that line, there had to be... just had to be... two kids whose linked arms were scrawnier than my chest. So after isolating them, I ran at them, through them, or over them. Whatever it took. For I learned, early in life, that Team A's line was only as strong as its weakest link.
 
That was shortly before I learned that if we are all created equal, it is only at the point of opportunity, and seldom (if ever) at the point of ability. I remember long years of my life when I would have gladly traded the things I was good at, for even one of the things I wasn't. I would have willingly accepted C's on my report card in return for the ability to hit a curve ball. And 12 years of violin training I would have ditched in a heartbeat for the knowledge that I could beat up Frankie Paciero (if necessary) or turn the head of sweet Janie Swift. To be sure, I had a couple of ten-talent chips in my genetic poker hand. But for years, I didn't know what they were and wouldn't have valued them if I had. 
 
The weakest link. In some setting... on some day... in some endeavor... that's going to be every one of us. 
 
William A Ritter, www.Sermons.com
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A Small Act of Kindness
 
Let me suggest that you try something that never gets old or stale or unsatisfying. Do something for somebody truly in need. 

Let me tell you about a man named Floyd. According to the standards of the world Floyd was nobody. Floyd traveled around the country looking for work at harvest time. Floyd had no home and no place to go. A couple invited him into their home and gave him a home-cooked dinner. Floyd said very little as they ate. The wife, Nancy, offered to wash his clothes for him but Floyd declined the offer. He picked cherries in the orchard next to their home that day and slept under the trees that gave him his livelihood. 

Early the next morning Floyd returned to the couple who had shown him kindness. While he finished one last project in the orchard, Nancy, on an impulse, wrote him a letter telling of God's love. Then she tucked it with a little cash into a New Testament. She found his backpack in the yard, and stuck the packet inside. She imagined him traveling that day looking for work and at the end of the day bedding down somewhere under the stars, weary and all alone. She was warmed by the thought of Floyd's surprise when he discovered her note, the New Testament and the cash she had planted in his backpack. 

This Christian couple never saw Floyd again. Four years later Floyd's sister wrote to the them, telling of his death. As Floyd's sister was going through his few belongings she found the New Testament and the letter Nancy wrote telling of God's love. "They must have been very dear to his heart," Floyd's sister concluded, "for he carried them with him until he died." 

It was such a simple gesture " a note, a Bible and a little cash " but little counts for a lot in the kingdom of God. I don't know about you, but I want to be surprised at finding myself among the sheep on that day of judgment. More importantly, want to possess a faith that's real. I want to take advantage of one of the most joyous opportunities Christ gives us, to minister to him.
 
Nancy Leman, Traveling Friend, Adapted by King Duncan, www.Sermons.com
 
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I Kept an Open Door
 
A Jewish story goes: I went up to Heaven in a dream and stood at the Gates of Paradise in order to observe the procedure of the Heavenly Tribunal. I watched as a learned Rabbi approached and wished to enter. "Day and night," he said, "I studied the Holy Torah."
 
"Wait," said the Angel. "We will investigate whether your study was for its own sake or whether it was a matter of profession and for the sake of honors.
 
A Righteous Person [a Zaddik] next approached. "I fasted much," he said, "I underwent many ritual cleansings; I studied the Zohar the mystical commentary on the Torah day and night." 
"Wait," said the Angel, "until we have completed our investigation to learn whether you motives were pure."
 
Then a tavern-keeper drew near. "I kept an open door and fed without charge every poor man who came into my inn," he said.
 
The Heavenly Portals were opened to him. 
 
Rabbi Aaron Leib of Primishlan, as quoted in Abraham Karp, The Jewish Way of Life and Thought, New York: KTAV Publishing Inc., 1981, p.177 
 
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Why Do You Wear that Battered Cloak?
 
When Martin of Tours (who lived in the 4th century), a young Roman soldier and seeker of the Christian faith, met an unclothed man begging for alms in the freezing cold, he stopped and cut his coat in two and gave half to the stranger.  That night he dreamt he saw the heavenly court with Jesus robed in a torn cloak.  One of the angels present asked, "Master, why do you wear that battered cloak?"  Jesus replied, "My servant Martin gave it to me." Martin's disciple and biographer Sulpicius Severus states that as a consequence of this vision Martin "flew to be baptized".  God is gracious and merciful; his love compels us to treat others with mercy and kindness. When we do something for one of Christ's little ones, we do it for Christ.  Do you treat your neighbor with mercy and love as Christ has treated you? 
 
Don Schwager, The Sheep and the Goats
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Lest We Forget
 
When Queen Victoria celebrated her diamond jubilee in 1897, the London Times printed Rudyard Kipling's poem "Recessional." It scandalized the English because instead of celebrating their empire, the poem called them to repentance. The refrain "lest we forget--lest we forget" ended each stanza. England too stood under God's judgment and might vanish as a power on the world stage.
 
The tumult and the shouting dies;
The captains and the kings depart:
Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice,
An humble and a contrite heart.
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget--lest we forget!
 
Edgar Krentz, Justice and Judgment, article in The Christian Century,Nov 6, 1996
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A Deep Love for God, A Deep Love for Neighbors
 
There is an Irish legend about a king, who had no children to succeed him on the throne. So, he had his messengers post signs in every town and village of his kingdom inviting qualified young men to apply for an interview with the king. This way the king hoped to be able to choose a successor before he died. 
 
Two qualifications, especially, were stressed. The person must have a deep love for God and a deep love for his neighbor. 
 
A young man saw one of the signs. He indeed had a deep love for God and neighbor. He felt a kind of inner voice telling him to apply for an interview. 
 
But the young man was so poor that he didn't have decent clothes to wear to an interview...
 
The conclusion to this illustration and many additional illustrations and sermons for Christ the King Sunday, Thanksgiving, and Advent can be accessed at www.Sermons.com.



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