9/23/51

Scripture: Psalm 115

Text: Psalm 115: 18; "From this time forth we will bless the Lord for evermore."

Recently I read of a man who had had a careful consultation with his doctor during which he learned that he had only three more years to live. He was assured that he would not suffer much pain, but that his days were definitely numbered by a known malady. He determined to spend no time lying down to cry over his misfortune, but to spend those 3 years in the pursuit of happiness.

He went to Colorado, lived in a trailer, fished in swift streams, made watercolor sketches of mountain crags and waterfalls. Then he went to California, spent some time in the sequoia forests, and bathed in the waters of the Pacific ocean. He had no children of his own, but, loving children, he visited them in hospitals and orphanages, bringing cheer and comfort to those he saw. He spent his evenings reading great books and listening to great music. Just before he died, he remarked to a friend: "I wanted to make the most of the rest of my life."

I knew another man who, after an exploratory operation, was informed that he had only a matter of a few months to live, and he would experience some pain. Being a man of Christian sincerity, and serving in a church vocation, he had been, and was at the time he made this discovery, very active in public life. He did not halt or hesitate. He wrote his friends the truth about his condition, continued to make inspiring public addresses, carried on his usual, and unusual, responsibilities as much as his strength would permit, and died traveling on the train. He professed an interest in what he would like to do not only with his remaining few months, but with his life in the new eternal estate. His life radiated a faith that was joyous and contagious. He not only made the most of life; he made the best of his life.

I suppose that none of us here this morning has had his or her life limited as to number of days in any such fashion. Yet we are all, old and young, bound by the compulsion of time. If we were to assume that the average age represented here today is thirty years, statistics might indicate that we have an average of about thirty years to live --- let us say about 10,000 days to live. What shall each of us do with those 10,000 days, more or less?

Obviously, what we do with our share will depend on our circumstances and interests and abilities. And no two of us will live exactly alike. Indeed, we should not. But we could scarcely live under a better challenge than under the question, "What is the best you can make of it? What can I accomplish? How much cheer can I inspire?"

Some years ago, a great English preacher and writer, Studdert-Kennedy, described his conception of the Last Judgment. He said he felt that God would ask him only one question concerning his life, and that the question would be: "What did you make of it?"

Given prosperity or adversity, good health or ill health, strength or weakness, a free hand or a limited and burdened one, what did you make of it? If we all want to "make the most of the rest for the sake of the best," how shall we go about it? Well, let us consider four points of thought to be considered.

1) We have all known disappointments. I doubt that there are any persons on earth who have never known heartache. A poet was writing for everyone in these lines:

Be still, sad heart, and cease repining,

Behind the cloud the sun’s still shining.

Thy fate is the common fate of all;

Into each life some rain must fall,

Some days must be dark and dreary.

My mother used to teach us this truth, and at the same time suggest an antidote, by singing these lines for us in mock solemnity with a twinkle in her eye.

It is easy for us, in moments or hours of heaviness, to assume that our tragedies, failures and disappointment are ours alone. We may feel that, for a time, we have been singled out for an undue portion of life’s bitterness and gall. There are those who have more than a fair share of the cup of sorrow. But it is not likely that you or I have had it nearly so bad as someone else of whom we have heard. And one element in our constructive philosophy of life is to recognize that difficulty forms a part of life, is a principle of life. The very advent of our mortal life is channeled through the pains of motherhood. Our translation to eternal life is channeled through the rigors of mortal death. And the intervening days have their share of suffering, disappointments and grief.

Much of this lies hidden from the gaze of others, covered by a song or a gay smile so that we seldom suspect it in others. A man, unusually successful in business, never got over his disappointment that he could not be a doctor because his father’s death forced him to get a job while he was still only sixteen. A teacher, radiant and charming, may hide the hurt in her heart caused by the bitterness of betrayed love.

One never knows for certain where the real tragedies lie. The Swedish nightingale, Jenny Lind, has beneath the loveliness of her singing a heart wounded by thwarted love. The great Boston preacher, Phillip Brooks made an utter failure as a teacher before he began preaching as a sort of last resort. The painter, Whistler, had flunked his studies at West Point and had to give up his ambition to be a soldier. Sir Walter Scott had a burning ambition to be a poet. He had the misfortune to reach poetic maturity at the time Robert Burns had captured the attention of the literary world. So, with heavy heart, Scott turned to writing novels.

It is needless to labor this point further. Some clouds are the common fate of all. So let us move on to a second consideration.

2) As we turn the pages, there are some days in last year’s calendar that we would like to tear out. Haunting yesterdays arise to plague the peace of the present. There are deeds accomplished in secrecy, attitudes we are not proud to have known, words uttered in anger which can not be recalled, impulses to help a neighbor that were never carried out. We were so preoccupied with our own plans that the cup of cold water was never given, the kind word of encouragement was not spoken, the handclasp of friendship was neglected. If only the lost opportunity could be retrieved! But those moments are gone on forever. The drop of water does not return again to the waterfall, but goes on to the sea. Pilate told the truth when, concerning the inscription which he had caused to be placed over the cross of Jesus, he said, "What I have written, I have written."

But one thing we can do if we would make the best of our lives. We can turn the page. We can leave yesterday’s failures within the framework of yesterday. It is necessary to discard the neglects and failures of yesterday, having recognized fairly what they are; to leave behind the insults and grudges; to go beyond the sorrows and disappointments, and to meet the new day with a clean sheet of paper.

We usually compliment the man with a good memory. But a good "forgettery" is just as important, provided we forget the right things. The sins of Paul must have been more than he could bear as he remembered his past arrogance and the blood of Christian martyrs upon his hands. He used frankly to avow himself the chief of sinners. But he resolved his difficulties by a wonderful program. "Forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus." [Philippians 3: 13-14].

Suppose you and I have an average of 10,000 days behind us, some days bitter and some sweet. Let the bitterness of those days be forgotten and buried, nor let their memory mar the beauty of those 10,000 possible days ahead -- or even of this or the next day! In this way, you can make the most and the best of life.

3) Consider now a third point. We can use our advantages. A popular song of a few years ago urged that we "accentuate the positive." We can live in the affirmative, count our blessings, "overcome evil with good."

Matthew tells of a man who decided to live the good life by sweeping his house clean of all the evil spirits in it. But upon return he found there were 7 devils living there instead of one. [Matthew 12: 43-45]. He made the mistake of trying to live negatively. No amount of "don’ts" will ever make a Christian. All the ciphers in the world, added together, still total zero. Emptiness of evil, even if it can be achieved, is never an equivalent for goodness.

Maybe you have had enough misfortune to make you a cynic. Perhaps you have known enough disappointment to make you bitter. Possibly you have suffered the betrayal of friends and the slander of enemies. But whether these be real, or whether they be alibis for our failures, we must not give our lives to making excuses; we must make good!

An old Chinese problem runs like this: "God never closes a door in life without opening a window." While I was a college student, I once met a student in another college who was blind, and had been so from childhood. But he asked no favors and feared no odds. He was taking the full college course and later went to theological school. His fellows had elected him president of the campus YMCA. He shaved himself in the morning, took his class notes in Braille, wrote to his girl on his typewriter, made his way to classes without a cane merely by touching the arm of someone going the same way. He later married, became a minister in the Methodist church, and was a popular leader at young people’s conferences. I never heard him utter any except positive ideas. He was a pointed lesson to me on doing one’s best with what one has.

No matter how impoverished you may be at some point, you have advantages which you can and must use. Your mind is clear -- use it; your hands can serve -- use them; you have an influence for good -- use it. Anyone can find trouble who looks for it. If you are looking for the good and the worthy, you can find that, too.

Two men were newly moved to a certain city. Each asked a neighbor what kind of city it was. The neighbor, in turn, asked each from what kind of town he had come. The first replied that his home town was a terrible place to live in. The people there were surly, mean and treacherous. The neighbor replied, "That is the kind of place this city is too -- there are people here like that." The second man said he came from a town there folks were cheerful and friendly, kind and trustworthy. The neighbor answered him, "That’s the kind of city this is -- we have those people here also." It was a proper description of the city in both instances. Each could find what he was looking for.

Count on your advantages. Thank God for them! Build good upon them. Alibis are for the weak. The strong do not need them. Much of the noblest living is achieved "in spite of," rather than "because of."

The poet, Homer, though his eyes were blind, could see with the mind better than any other men of his day. The musician Beethoven, though his ears were deaf, could hear within his experience, and give out, more splendid music than his contemporaries. The patriot statesman, Lincoln, suffered more handicaps, disappointments, humiliations, and defeats than are known to have befallen any other public servant of his day. But he managed to bury his sorrows at sunset and to press a new day’s advantages to ultimate victory.

4) Now consider a fourth point. We can all be better than we are. (There was a popular song on that theme, too, not so long ago). There could be two thoughts running through the mind at this point. One is a bit of being sorry for ourselves, our meager talents, our misfortunes, and failures. This leads to self pity and defeat -- and is not the line to follow. The other is to be ashamed of our real errors. That is better; for it leads to penitence and victory.

We can not always change the circumstances in which we live, though frequently it is possible to do something about it. And a lot of our proper human endeavor is to improve the circumstances in which all people live. But we can always change ourselves. Cynics ask, as they did in Jesus’ time, "Can the leopard change its spots?" The answer is "no." But we are not leopards. We are human beings with choices before us. And the choices lead to the height of heaven or the depth of hell. (These are spiritual realities, by the way.) If we have fumbled the ball on the gridiron of life, we don’t have to continue to do so! When our next play is called, it is a new opportunity.

It is said that opportunity knocks but once; but this is only part of the truth. There are doors before you now, and you can choose to enter. There is One who has been the transforming power of life in all generations, who says, "Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If any man will open the door -- I will come in." Weigh this truth well. No man need stay the way he is. He can be better.

Look well at the lessons of history. Was the Prodigal Son a disgraced and destitute young fellow in a hog pen in a foreign country? Or was he an obedient son under his father’s roof? He was both -- in each condition partly by the power of his own choice.

Was Paul a persecutor of Christians, or a preacher of Christ? Was Augustine a spoiled and willful young libertine, breaking his mother’s heart; or was he a saint of the church?

In each of these instances it is the same person, but made different by the transforming power of God, when they chose to let that power work in their lives. Can you believe in such power? The only way it to try it. You need stay in no tragedy of yesterday. You can move on the something good, or better, that God has for you today and tomorrow.

It is a weak tone that sometimes advises one in stoic manner to "make the best" of a bad situation -- as if merely to endure it. Make the best of life by building life; by letting Almighty God have the most of it -- all your powers dedicated to good.

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Dates and places delivered:

Wisconsin Rapids, September 23, 1951