7/16/50

Scripture: (Read Luke 22: 39-53)

There is greatness about Jesus which seems to me without human parallel. And yet his mortal life remains as a standard, a kind of ideal in perfection, toward which all of his followers on earth must strive. His greatness stands out particularly in the garden of Gethsemane. Here he was tested as few can be tested. He was in danger of his life, and he realized it fully. He could have fled, and he knew it. And had he done so, his followers would have been relieved of their anxieties. But he stood his ground, not as a proud man of sheer bravery does, but as one who trusts, deeply and implicitly, in the purposes of God. He had no doubt that the right for which he stood was the will of God, for he had prayed fervently to know and accept that will.

And now there came out those, led by the traitor, who were bent on taking him. And some were fully bent on betraying him. His disciples, weary and heavy eyed, had slept while he agonized in prayer. Now his colleagues cowered. And among the people in that hysterical mob were not only scoffers, but churchmen, and the servants of churchmen as well.

Jesus stood there with both courage and compassion. And his attitude is a scintillating study in greatness. He did not then lash out against his enemies - not once. When one drew his sword and cut off the ear of a servant, Jesus commanded him to put up the sword. He was interested in the healing of men. As the mob pressed about him, like hounds with a quarry at bay, his greatness was expressed in acceptance of the cruel misunderstanding that sometimes comes as a powerful consequence of men’s evil choices.

Let us look for a few minutes this morning at the lives of others -- men whose mortal kinship with our own lives we more easily recognize.

1) Here is a man in American history whose greatness can be most easily glimpsed in the set-backs of life. It is well to see some such life in adversity, for one sort of adversity or another besets the life of everyone at some time. Jonathan Edwards was born in the New England colonial period, October 5, 1703, in East Windsor, Connecticut. His father was minister of the Congregational Church in the village for 64 years. Jonathan was an early student at Yale College, entering at the age of 13 and graduating at 17 years of age.

After seminary training and ordination to the ministry, he returned to Yale for a time as a tutor. Later, he became a colleague in the pastorate, with his grandfather, Solomon Stoddard, who was preaching at Northampton, Massachusetts. When the senior minister died, Jonathan Edwards became the minister of the church. He was then only 26 years of age.

About 5 years later the young minister stepped into ecclesiastical fame. He was proving himself one of the most original theologians of America. His most widely read and discussed sermon was probably the one titled: “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God.” He became the pioneer evangelist-preacher of New England.

Then controversy developed in 1744. The revival enthusiasm of the church waned. Not a single person took membership with that church for 4 years. Personal bitterness grew, and some agitated for a change in the pastorate. In 1750, the church dismissed its pastor. Mr. Edwards was then 47 years of age, and had a wife and ten children dependent on him for livelihood.

The Northampton church found, to its dismay and chagrin, that its minister of 20-odd years was not easily replaced. At length the congregation officials asked Mr. Edwards to preach as supply! He returned, with poise and power, on that temporary basis, to the pulpit from which he had been released. Having accepted the invitation, he remained until a successor was called.

Then, the only church that offered him its post of leadership was a very small congregation at Stockbridge, Mass., where he also served as a missionary to the Housatonic Indians. This brought certain hardships upon him and his large family because of the meager living. But he maintained a splendid spirit. In this obscure parish, he wrote “Freedom of the Will” and other works celebrated in the knowledge of a wide range of students.

From this unsung pulpit, in 1757, Jonathan Edwards was called to the presidency of the College of New Jersey - now Princeton University. People think of stern stuff when they read of his theology. What impresses me more is the spirit that evidently governed the life of this man charged with God’s goodness. Here is a glimpse of greatness in a man who suffered severe setback!

2) Turn your eyes now on the life of another American of a much later date and of a far different field of accomplishment. He was a man of strength and popularity who was at length tested by ill-health. He was baseball’s hero, Lou Gehrig, whose accomplishments are depicted in that old movie, “Pride of the Yankees.” Lou Gehrig was a remarkable man. He grew up in New York, worked his way through Columbia University, and then went immediately into professional baseball with the Yankees. He had the strength of a giant, a strength measured out in coordinated physical grace. He was charming in manner, and had the tenderness of a true gentle person.

The last chapter of his life is of special interest to our study of this morning. It began in the winter of 1938-39. Lou was a fine ice skater, but his splendid, coordinated, physical grace suffered a setback that season. He fell on the ice repeatedly. The following spring, though he worked hard, it was apparent that something was wrong. The “perfect” player was no longer there. On April 30th, 1939, the Yankees played the Senators. Gehrig went to bat 4 times and struck out 4 times! His team lost. Monday was a day off. Tuesday the Yankees played the Tigers. Gehrig went to Joe McCarthy in the dugout and told him, “I always said that when I felt I couldn’t help the team any more, I’d take myself out of the lineup. I guess that time has come.”

That ended the Iron Man’s 2,130 consecutive-game record. Lou Gehrig went to the Mayo Clinic for examination. X-rays showed that he had had 17 assorted fractures that had healed by themselves -- and he had never missed a game! But the real pronouncement of the Mayo medical staff was that Lou was, by then, living on borrowed time. He had an incurable disease.

On July 4th, 1939, there occurred one of the most remarkable ceremonies ever held at Yankee Stadium. The park was crowded with celebrities from every walk of life. At length, this honored gentleman, recipient of unusual recognition and affection, stood before the microphone and said simply, “For the past two weeks, you have been reading about a ‘bad break’ -- yet, today, I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth.”

Many positions were offered Mr. Gehrig. A restaurant owner offered $30,000 a year for the use of his name. He finally accepted an appointment from Mayor La Guardia as a City Parole Officer, at $6,000 a year. With characteristic keenness and kindness, he listened to the stories of human misdirection. He stayed at the work when he could no longer move his arms. When he died on June 2nd, 1941, many who knew him well could remember having heard no word of complaint from him. A glimpse of greatness in physical adversity!

3) Focus your attention on one more life, this time a European. A year ago, a great festival was prepared in a little town in Colorado. One of the most phenomenal men of our present world was invited to speak there, and came from far around the globe to do so. He is a man of no pretense, though his accomplishments are significant. Albert Schweitzer is a doctor, four times over -- in philosophy, in theology, in music, and in medicine. He was born January 14, 1875, at Kayserburg in Upper Alsace. He was a son of the manse, one of 5 children. His biographer asserts that he showed no particular precocity as a child, in any direction except in music. He was assistant organist of the village church at the age of 9.

At the age of 21, Albert Schweitzer, after considerable deliberation, decided to give his life to science and music until he was 30. Thereafter, he would give himself to suffering humanity. So, in 1919, Dr. and Mrs. Schweitzer, under the Paris Missionary Society, though at their own expense, went to Equatorial Africa, as he expressed it, “to try and live the spirit of Jesus.” This he has done, in jungle heat and among people infected with the diseases of jungle and poverty.

Returning last summer from the conference of intellectuals in Colorado, he stepped off the train into a Chicago temperature of 99 degrees. As he stood visiting for a moment, a woman appeared carrying two heavy suitcases. Schweitzer left his friends, took the two heavy cases, and carried them into the other train. It is said that several other men, observing the courtesy of Schweitzer, intercepted other laden travelers and busied themselves imitating their guest.

The story of Schweitzer is a living expression of love and service. He left comfort and multiple fame to minister to needy natives of east Africa. In this serving musician, theologian, philosopher, physician, we comprehend more clearly the saying of Jesus: “Whoever would be great among you must be your servant.” [Matthew 20: 26, 27]. Greatness is intimately associated with Christian service. It emerges as fruit of the life of one who decides to go God’s good way, allowing himself to be used for the enacting of Christ’s gospel.

When is a man a great man? It was William Shakespeare who suggested that, “He is not great, who is not greatly good.” I would make one more observation. The great good, of which Shakespeare speaks, is rooted in God. It is not enough to give intellectual approval to some position or cause or need, the fulfillment of which would seem to be good. One needs a motive to activate that goodness. And the motive comes from God in a devotion to His will made known, or to be made known, to us. After all, greatness is man’s concept. Goodness is God’s.

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Delivered in Wisconsin Rapids, July 16, 1950