Spoken Word Messages - Page 92

There is something about the clamor of the day in which we live which reminds us that a quietly spoken truth is much more convincing than the shouted declaration of half truth or untruth.  There is a technique peculiar to a well-known type of individual who believes that if he shouts loud enough and long enough, no matter what he says, some of it will be believed.  But he who is the bearer of truth has no need to shout. 

During past weeks we have spoken somewhat at this hour concerning leadership, a subject always vital to the conduct of men, because everyone must follow someone.  And since everyone must follow someone, we had just as well follow someone who is going where we would like to go.  But now comes the question: What about the man who doesn’t know enough to choose good leaders—who doesn’t know right from wrong—who has no foundation on which to base either his choice or his consent? 

In considering the accountability of men in choosing their leaders, we are reminded that there are many who follow after false leadership because they seemingly have no choice.  They follow where they are told to follow—or else.  In a physical sense this may be true.  There have always been times and places in which men were bowed to obedience against their will by superior physical force and brutal systems. 

Much wisdom was anciently reduced to the space of two short phrases—“as with the servant—so with the master.”  (Isaiah 24:2)  This statement of a fundamental truth has been so often demonstrated that it has become a historical axiom.  It is to say in other words that ultimately both the people and their leaders share a common lot, and therefore, to have a good way of life we must have a good leadership. 

If we were called upon to make a list of the evils of our day, the evil of indifference would be well up toward the top.  Collectively, men appear to be grossly indifferent toward most things which do not immediately and definitely affect their own lives and comfort. 

During the week that has just now closed, that part of America which lies between the Rockies and the Sierras, has commemorated again the achievements of those Pioneers who, ninety-four years ago, began the task of taking back from the desert part of the vastness which it had claimed as its own. 

The story is told of a young lad who had gone with an older companion to the prominence of a high hill that overlooked the valley of his home.  The long effort upward had tired the boy and he thought longingly of the comfort and security of that abode which now seemed so far away.  He turned to his companion and said:  “How do we get home?” and was answered with sweeping words and gestures:  “Just down this trail, and over that hill, and along that road and up that street, and there we are home.”  Somewhat assured but still with the grim reality of distance facing him, the boy replied:  “You can talk your way home fast, can’t you?  But I’m tired, and it takes a long time to walk there.” 

During the course of every day, each of us is called upon to make many decisions.  Some of them are inconsequential, involving nothing more significant than a choice between the wearing of a red necktie or a blue one.  But some of them may be very fundamental decisions, involving the first step toward a bad habit, involving a choice between honesty and dishonesty, involving a choice between the acceptance or the rejection of truth. 

“And when thou prayest, thou shall not be as the hypocrites are, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen of men. * * * And when ye pray, use not vain repetitions as the heathen do; for they think that they shall be heard for their much speaking.”  (Matthew 6:5 and 7)  That these telling words of Jesus the Christ on prayer could well be paraphrased to apply to patriotism is a conclusion that emphasizes itself on many occasions of public observance. 

We have heard much within recent times concerning the question of appeasement.  We have no wish to comment on appeasement so far as world events are concerned, but we should like to say something concerning the appeasement of appetites in our own personal lives. 

Sometimes in the confusion with which we live our lives, we find ourselves longing for quiet places.  The intensity of everything we do leaves us breathless from day to day, and before we have emerged from one whirlwind we find ourselves in the midst of another.  The acceleration of all things leaves us little time to pause, to linger, to think.  For some these things are so because they would have them so.  Some there are who remind us of Hamlet in his dread of death, because to die was to sleep, to sleep was perhaps to dream, and he was afraid of his dreams. 

Perhaps the fathers of men have not been as much talked of as the mothers of men, because in the manner of our living they do not appear to be so constant a factor in the molding of lives and the shaping of destinies.  But to say which is greater, the influence of a good father or a good mother, would be to set out upon an argument that has no conclusion except to admit that both are inestimable. 

If you want to know how far you can trust a man, you must know at least two things about him.  First, you must know what he believes—what his standards are, and then you must know how devoted he is to those standards and under what circumstances he would deviate from them. 

By many unmistakable signs, we are reminded that we have come upon another day in June.  Added to the cold confirmation of the calendar we have that more convincing evidence which has to do with the feel of the air, the blueness of the sky, and the vigorous unfoldment of all living things. 

It is quite characteristic of humankind that whenever we pass up an opportunity or make a bad decision, there is always something of a secret hope and feeling in our hearts that our mistakes are not conclusive—that there will come again to us the possibility of making other choices to offset the ones on which we have defaulted.  In a limited sense this is true.  It is true that a man never ceases to live. 

One consideration that presses itself upon much of our thinking, is the question as to what kind of world we shall live in tomorrow.  On broad lines, there are many who feel that they know what kind of world we shall live in ultimately, but ultimately is not tomorrow. 

We have come once again to that now traditional second Sunday in May on which the nation pauses to remember with something more than the passing daily deference, those mothers who have brought us to life, who have watched over us until we could stand alone, who have prayed for us and sent their love with us, no matter how far we have traveled.  The mission of motherhood has always been fraught with poignant paradoxes, in which are mingled indescribable joy and unavoidable anxiety. 

One of the most startling things about humanity is that quality which permits us to be so sure about things we don’t know—which permits us to be so utterly positive in our opinions, and yet be so wrong.  History has given us many examples of uncompromising declarations which the verdict of succeeding generations has found to be in error.  Things which only yesterday we were dogmatically taught in school, are being replaced by other theories which today in some quarters are taught with equal dogmatism, some of which will also later be discarded. 

In the strategy of modern warfare, one of the first objectives is to destroy the enemy lines of communication.  An army may be well-equipped and even superior in numbers, and yet fall into confusion and defeat if its facilities for communicating with a directing head are rendered useless. 

An appeal from the other of a young and impressionable son suggests comment on an old and well-worn subject.  Briefly and tritely stated, we have reference to what is commonly known as “following the crowd.”  The old and unimpressive excuse that we must do certain things because “everybody is doing them” is quite threadbare. 

The coming of another Easter stirs our thoughts anew to the issues of life, death and immortality.  We think much at this season of those whom we cherish who have already departed from us—where are they and when shall we again behold them?  These, and many other questions, rise to call for answer. 

Ofttimes, in the face of some eventuality that has overtaken us, we find ourselves saying regretfully:  “If I had only known, I would have done differently.”  Sometimes this is true, but more often it isn’t the fact that we don’t know that gets us into difficulties, but rather that we choose to ignore what we do know. 

The fact that we aspire to things which for the moment are out of reach, is one of the factors which makes possible the everlasting progress of man.  But those who merely aspire and let the matter rest there, are in need of sympathy and counsel, and a vigorous push, if necessary.  Ofttimes our young people see someone playing a great role in life, and they think they would like to play a great part also, without having any awareness of what has gone into the making of an able man.  We see his performance and are thrilled with his mastery of himself and of the things with which he works, but we often forget the years of self-denial, of creative effort and determination that have preceded achievement – years in which mediocre complacency has been given up to engage in an upward struggle. 

The young people of our day receive much attention.  Their opinions and their activities occupy a goodly share of front-page space.  Their needs and their problems are much talked of.  Their training, their education and their care account for a large part of our income. 

Sometimes in our use of word we allow them to acquire means which once they did not have.  For example, we have come to look upon the word “belief” wholly as a positive thing.  We often speak of a “believing man” as though that were descriptive of one who believes all things right. 

We have lived to see the day when the best-laid plans of men have fallen short of fulfillment.  Hopes and dreams and cherished ambitions have been postponed or abandoned.  Many have been diverted from their intended pursuits, and many, old and young, have faced a breaking up of the pattern of their lives. 

Under the tension of such times as ours, men react in many different ways to the disturbing events that beset their lives.  What some do is that which one of the advisers of Job urged him to do—to “curse God” (Job 2:0) and lay at the door of the Almighty the blame for every calamity. 

One of the well-known characters of Greek mythology was the giant, Antaeus, whose strength was unconquerable so long as he remained in contact with his mother, Earth.  Those who came to his country were compelled to wrestle with him, and many such, not knowing the source of his strength, would throw him to earth, from which he would gain greater power, and rise stronger that he fell. 

Much attention is given these days to the subject of doubt.  In a generation of skepticism and unbelief, when so much that is false finds itself intermingled with so much that is truth, men are inclined to doubt many things. 

One of the most loosely discussed topics of the days is the question of freedom.  We hear a good deal about freedom – freedom of conscience, freedom of the press, freedom of speech, intellectual freedom, and a great many other kinds and varieties.  It isn’t difficult to get men to agree that freedom, in the abstract, is a great and desirable thing.  But it is difficult to get men to agree what constitutes freedom.