Pastoral Resources

During World War I a Protestant chaplain with the American troops in Italy became a friend of a local Roman Catholic priest. In time, the chaplain moved on with his unit and was killed. The priest heard of his death and asked military authorities if the chaplain could be buried in the cemetery behind his church.

Permission was granted. But the priest ran into a problem with his own Catholic Church authorities. They were sympathetic, but they said they could not approve the burial of a non-Catholic in a Catholic cemetery. So the priest buried his friend just outside the cemetery fence. Years later, a war veteran who knew what had happened returned to Italy and visited the old priest. The first thing he did was ask to see the chaplain’s grave. To his surprise, he found the grave inside the fence.

“Ah,” he said, “I see you got permission to move the body.”

“No,” said the priest. “They told me where I couldn’t bury the body. But nobody ever told me I couldn’t move the fence.”

Talent is a strange word; it means a coin or one's capability or a gift.

So when we are given children and we neglect to tell them the stories of faith, we are burying our talents. When we are given friends and we neglect to significantly touch their lives, we are burying our talents. And when we are given a song to sing and we sing it not, we are burying our talents.

Whatever talent means-whatever it is we are burying-our money, our faith, our love or a song, the meaning of the story is clear: burying talents means not using God's gifts.

“I am not come hither to deny my Lord and Master.” Anne Askew—July 16, 1545/ burned at the stake after torture on the rack, at the age of 25.

I am not come hither to deny my Lord and Master.

Alfred the Great was the ninth-century king who saved England from conquest by the Danish. At one point during his wars with the Danes, Alfred was forced to seek refuge in the hut of a poor Saxon family. Not recognizing her visitor, the woman of the house said she had to leave and asked Alfred to watch some cakes she was baking. But the king had other things on his mind and did not notice that the cakes were burning. Upon her return, the lady unknowingly gave her sovereign a hearty scolding!

Cleveland Amory tells this story about Judge John Lowell of Boston. One morning the judge was at breakfast, his face hidden behind the morning paper. A frightened maid tiptoed into the room and whispered something to Mrs. Lowell’s ear. The lady paled slightly, then squared her shoulders resolutely and said, “John, the cook has burned the oatmeal, and there is no more in the house. I am afraid that this morning, for the first time in seventeen years, you will have to go without your oatmeal.”

The judge, without putting down his paper, answered, “It’s all right, my dear. Frankly, I never cared much for it anyhow.”

If the standard exercises aren’t your cup of tea, try some of these and burn up a few calories.

Beating around the bush — 75 calories

Jumping to conclusions — 200 calories

Climbing the wall — 150 calories

Passing the buck — 50 calories

Throwing your weight around — 50 to 500 calories, depending on your weight

Dragging your heels — 175 calories

Making mountains out of molehills — 500 calories

Adding fuel to the fire — 150 calories

Tooting your own horn — 25 calories

Looking over the fence at the greener grass — 1 calories

It was in a large prayer meeting that a rather pompous man arose and said, "Brethren, I am on board the old ship Zion, and I am sailing heavenward, and I am going at the rate of sixteen knots; I shall soon sail up the harbor of the blessed." Then another man with more arrogance rose and said, "I, too, am on board the old ship Zion, and I am sailing heavenward at the rate of thirty knots; I shall soon sail up the harbor of the blessed," and he sat down. Then another man with even more arrogance got up and said, "I, too, brethren, am on board the old ship Zion. It is a steamship with a terrific horsepower, and on this steamship I shall soon sail up the harbor of the blessed," and he sat down. Then a plain Christian woman rose and said, "Well, brethren, I have been going to heaven seventy years, and I have been going afoot; I suppose from the looks of things that I shall have to go afoot the rest of the way. If some of you people that are going by steam don't look out, you'll burst your boilers." As a dear saint of God said, let us make our boasting as follows: "I am not what I ought to be, I am not what I wish to be, I am not what I hope to be; but by the grace of God I am not what I was." Never leave the grace of God out.

Another technique to find more answers is to change the wording in your questions. Here’s an example of how such a strategy can work. Several centuries ago, a curious but deadly plague appeared in a small village in Lithuania. What was curious about this disease was its grip on its victim; as soon as a person contracted it, he would go into a very deep almost deathlike coma. Most individuals would die within twenty-four hours, but occasionally a hardy soul would make it back to the full bloom of health. The problem was that since early eighteenth century medical technology was not very advanced, the unafflicted had quite a difficult time telling whether a victim was dead or alive. This didn’t matter too much, though, because most of the people were, in fact, dead.

Then one day it was discovered that someone had been buried alive. This alarmed the townspeople, so they called a town meeting to decide what should be done to prevent such a situation from happening again. After much discussion, most people agreed on the following solution. They decided to put food and water in every casket next to the body. They would even put an air hole up from the casket to the earth’s surface. These procedures would be expensive, but they would be more than worthwhile if they would save some people’s lives.

Another group came up with a second, less expensive, right answer. They proposed implanting a twelve-inch-long stake in every coffin lid directly over where the victim’s heart would be. Then whatever doubts there were about whether the person was dead or alive would be eliminated as soon as the coffin lid was closed.

What differentiated the two solutions were the questions used to find them. Whereas the first group asked, “What should we do in the event we bury somebody alive?,” the second group wondered, “How can we make sure everyone we bury is dead?”

After it was disclosed that President Bush has banned broccoli aboard Air Force One, the nation was embroiled in “broccoli discussion.” As broccoli growers dispatched 10 tons of the vegetable free to Washington, the President reiterated his distaste with gusto: “I do not like broccoli and I haven’t liked it since I was a little kid and my mother made me eat it. And I’m president of the United States and I’m not going to eat any more broccoli. Now look, this is the last statement I’m going to have on broccoli. There are truckloads of broccoli at this very minute descending on Washington. My family is divided. For the broccoli vote out there: Barbara loves broccoli. She has tried to make me eat it. She eats it all the time herself. So she can go out and meet the caravan of broccoli that’s coming in.”

A young man left his employer, a lumber merchant, and began business in competition with him. For a while he prospered greatly and got many orders that would have gone to the firm he had left. But just when his business seemed to be most flourishing, and he had more orders than he could supply, a huge fire in his yard destroyed all his lumber. The day after the fire he saw his old employer coming toward his office. He said later, "I could have hated him, for I thought he was coming to gloat over my misfortune. But he came to me as a friend in need and said, 'I know you have agreed to supply lumber to your customers by certain dates, and this unfortunate fire makes it impossible for you to do it. My lumber yard is at your disposal. You can have what you need and pay me at your own convenience. Your business may go on as usual.' " The young man was overwhelmed by this embodiment of the Golden Rule; the rivalry and hatred that he had felt gave place to love.

A business training exercise shows how people look at the same task in different ways. Draw an imaginary line on the floor, and put one person on each side. The purpose is to get one person to convince the other, without force, to cross the line. U.S. players almost never convince one another, but their Japanese counterparts simply say, “If you’ll cross the line, so will I.” They exchange places and they both win. That’s not a bad illustration of the importance of cooperation as the world gets smaller and more complex.

We often fail to consider the gradual, cumulative effect of sin in our lives.

In Saint Louis in 1984, an unemployed cleaning woman noticed a few bees buzzing around the attic of her home. Since there were only a few, she made no effort to deal with them. Over the summer the bees continued to fly in and out the attic vent while the woman remained unconcerned, unaware of the growing city of bees.

The whole attic became a hive, and the ceiling of the second-floor bedroom finally caved in under the weight of hundreds of pounds of honey and thousands of angry bees. While the woman escaped serious injury, she was unable to repair the damage of her accumulated neglect.

Lee Iacocca was a busy man running the Chrysler Corporation. Even so, he knew the value of taking time off:

“I’m constantly amazed by the number of people who can’t seem to control their own schedules. Over the years, I’ve had many executives come to me and say with pride: ‘Boy, last year I worked so hard that I didn’t take any vacation. ‘ It’s nothing to be proud of. I always feel like responding: ‘You dummy. You mean to tell me that you can take responsibility for an $80 million project and you can’t plan two weeks out of the year to go off with your family and have some fun?”

Lee Iacocca was a busy man running the Chrysler Corporation. Even so, he knew the value of taking time off:

“I’m constantly amazed by the number of people who can’t seem to control their own schedules. Over the years, I’ve had many executives come to me and say with pride: ‘Boy, last year I worked so hard that I didn’t take any vacation.’ It’s nothing to be proud of. I always feel like responding: ‘You dummy. You mean to tell me that you can take responsibility for an $80 million project and you can’t plan two weeks out of the year to go off with your family and have some fun?”

Busyness rapes relationships. It substitutes shallow frenzy for deep friendship. It feeds the ego but starves the inner man. It fills a calendar but fractures a family. It cultivates a program that plows under priorities. Many a church boasts about its active program: “Something for every night of the week for everybody.” What a shame! With good intentions the local assembly can create the very atmosphere it was designed to curb. - Dr. Charles Swindoll

A clergyman from New York, during a call on President Lincoln at the White House said: "I have not come to ask any favors of you, Mr. President; I have only come to say that the loyal people of the North are sustaining you and will continue to do so. We are giving you all that we have, the lives of our sons as well as our confidence and our prayers. You must know that no boy's father or mother ever kneels in prayer these days without asking God to give you strength and wisdom."

His eyes brimming with tears, Mr. Lincoln replied:

"But for those prayers, I should have faltered and perhaps failed long ago. Tell every father and mother you know to keep on praying, and I will keep on fighting, for I know God is on our side."

As the clergyman started to leave the room, Mr. Lincoln held him by the hands and said: "I suppose I may consider this as sort of a pastoral call?" "Yes," replied the clergyman. "Out in our country," replied Lincoln, "when a parson makes a pastoral call, it was always the custom for the folks to ask him to lead in prayer, and I should like to ask you to pray with me today. Pray that I may have the strength and the wisdom."

The two men knelt side by side, and the clergyman offered the most fervent plea to Almighty God that ever fell from his lips. As they arose, the President clasped his visitor's hand and remarked in a satisfied sort of way: "I feel better."

I know not, but God knows;

Oh, blessed rest from fear!

All my unfolding days

To Him are plain and clear.

Each anxious, puzzled “Why?”

From doubt or dread that grows,

Finds answer in this thought:

I know not, but He knows.

I cannot, but God can;

Oh, balm for all my care!

The burden that I drop

His hand will lift and bear.

Though eagle pinions tire,

I walk where once I ran, This is

my strength to know

I cannot, but He can.

I see not, but God sees;

Oh, all sufficient light!

My dark and hidden way

To Him is always bright.

My strained and peering eyes

May close in restful ease,

And I in peace may sleep;

I see not, but He sees.

A pious person who was perplexed by denominational differences had a dream. He thought that he had died and arrived at the gates of heaven. When he applied to the watchmen to admit him within the sacred walls, they inquired, "Whom do you want?" He replied that he belonged to the Independents and wished to join them in that place. "There are no such people here!" was the answer he received. "Well," said he, "I have had some connection with the Baptists; may I join them?" "We don't know any by that name," replied the heavenly watchmen. It was in vain that he asked for Episcopalians; they had never heard of them. There were not even any Wesleyans, Catholics, Greek Orthodox, or Presbyterians there. He was just going away in despair when, as a last resort, he said, "But I am a Christian." At this term the gates of bliss flew open, and he was received as a welcome guest. Being a Christian is the only thing that really matters in the sight of God. We may call ourselves by any other name, but, when we come to God, what counts is whether or not we are truly born-again Christians.

I shall grow old perhaps, but not today, not while my hopes are young, my spirit strong, my vision clear, because life has a way of smoothing out the wrinkles with a song.

I shall grow old, perhaps, but not today, not while my dreams remain a shining shield, my faith a lance, and ‘neath a sky of gray, my colors wave upon the battlefield.

I shall grow old, perhaps, but not today, not while this pen can write upon a page, and memories turn Winter into May, shall this stout heart be brought to terms by age?

I shall grow old, perhaps, but not today, and scorning Time who would enlist my tears, I stand convinced there is a better way, of occupying all the coming years.

I shall grow old, perhaps, but not today, in my own style and in my own sweet time, no night so dark there does not fall a ray of light along the pathway that I climb.

Just say of me, when my last hour slips like one bright leaf to softly rest among the others...

“Life was Summer to the heart, of one who died believing she was young.”

- Grace E. Easley

When Calvin Coolidge was President he saw dozens of people every day. Most had complaints of one kind or another. A visiting Governor once told Coolidge he didn’t understand how he could see so many people. “Why, you finish with them by dinner time,” the Governor remarked, “while I’m often at my desk till midnight.” “Yes,” said Coolidge, “But you talk back.”

Two fellows opened a butcher shop and prospered. Then an evangelist came to town, and one of the butchers was saved. He tried to persuade his partner to accept salvation also, but to no avail. “Why won’t you, Charlie?” asked the born-again fellow.

“Listen, Lester,” the other butcher said. “If I get religion, too, who’s going to weigh the meat?”

According to James Hamilton, there are two kinds of Bible readers—those who skim the surface and those who dig deep. He describes them by comparing them to two common insects. He writes,

“One is remarkable for its imposing plumage, which shows in the sunbeams like the dust of gems; as you watch its jaunty gyrations over the fields and its minuet dance from flower to flower, you cannot help admiring its graceful activity, for it is plainly getting over a great deal of ground.

But in the same field there is another worker, whose brown vest and businesslike, straightforward flight may not have arrested your eye. His fluttering neighbor darts down here and there, and sips elegantly wherever he can find a drop of ready nectar; but this dingy plodder makes a point of alighting everywhere, and wherever he alights he either finds honey or makes it. If the flower-cup be deep, he goes down to the bottom; if its dragon-mouth be shut, he thrusts its lips asunder; and if the nectar be peculiar, he explores all about till he discovers it. … His rival of the painted velvet wing has no patience for such dull and long-winded details. … The one died last October. The other is warm in his hive, amidst the fragrant stores he has gathered.”

Which type of Bible reader are you? Butterfly or bee?

As part of their “Think Toy Safety” promotional campaign of the 1970s the U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission ordered 80,000 buttons. Unfortunately, the buttons themselves were dangerous. Their edges were sharp, the fasteners unsnapped too easily and—worst of all—the buttons had been coated with lead paint.

Rebirth or regeneration is monergistic, not synergistic. It is done by God and by God alone. A dead man cannot cooperate with his resurrection. Lazarus did not cooperate in his resurrection. Regeneration is a sovereign act of God in which man plays no role. After God brings us to life, of course, we certainly are involved in “cooperating” with Him. We are to believe, trust, obey, and work for him. But unless God acts first, we will never be reborn in the first place. We must also realize it is not as if dead people have faith, and because of their faith God agrees to regenerate them. Rather, it is because God has regenerated us and given us new life that we have faith.

Surely, Guido understands the nature of the human spirit to overcome all obstacles, and that by the power of God!

I went down past the corner of Clark and Lake streets one day, and, fulfilling my vow, on seeing a man leaning up against a lamp-post, I went up to him and said: "Are you a Christian?" He damned me and cursed me, and told me to mind my own business. He knew me, but I didn't know him. He said to a friend of his that afternoon that he had never been so insulted in his life, and told him to say to me that I was damning the cause I pretended to represent. Well, the friend came and delivered his message. "May be I am doing more hurt than good," I said; "may be I'm mistaken, and God hasn't shown me the right way." That was the time I was sleeping and living in the Young Men's Christian Association rooms, where I was then President, Secretary, janitor, and everything else. Well one night, after midnight I heard a knock at the door. And there on the step leading into the street stood this stranger I had made so mad at the lamp-post, and said he wanted to talk to me about his soul's salvation. He said: "Do you remember the man you met about three months ago at the lamp-post, and how he cursed you? I have had no peace since that night; I couldn't sleep. Oh, tell me what to do to be saved." And we just fell down on our knees, and prayed, and that day he went to the noon prayer meeting and openly confessed the Saviour, and soon after went to the war a Christian man. I do not know but he died on some Southern battle-field or in a hospital, but I expect to see him in the kingdom of God.

The sure test of the quality of any supposed change of heart will be found in its permanent effects. ‘By their fruits you shall know them’ is as applicable to the right method of judging ourselves as of judging others. Whatever, therefore, may have been our inward experience, whatever joy or sorrow we may have felt, unless we bring forth fruits meet for repentance, our experience will profit us nothing. Repentance is incomplete unless it leads to confession and restitution in cases of injury; unless it causes us to forsake not merely outward sins, which others notice, but those which lie concealed in the heart; unless it makes us choose the service of God and live not for ourselves but for Him. There is no duty which is either more obvious in itself, or more frequently asserted in the Word of God, than that of repentance. - Charles Hodge

What a sharp contrast with a scene that occurred on a New York street nearly two decades before. Kitty Genovese was slowly and brutally stabbed to death. At least thirty-eight of her neighbors witnessed the attack and heard her screams. In the course of the 90-minute episode, her attacker was actually frightened away, then he returned to finish her off. Yet not once during that period did any neighbor assist her, or even telephone the police.

The implications of this tragic event shocked America, and it stimulated two young psychologists, Darly and Latane, to study the conditions under which people are or are not willing to help others in an emergency. In essence, they concluded that responsibility is diffused.

The more people present in an emergency situation, the less likely it is that any one of them will offer help. This is popularly called the “bystander effect.”

In the actual experiment, when one bystander was present, 85 percent offered help. When two were present, 62 percent offered help. When five were present, then it decreased to 31 percent.