When all the nation had finished passing over the Jordan, the LORD said to Joshua,
2 "Take twelve men from the people, from each tribe a man,
3 and command them, 'Take twelve stones from here out of the midst of the Jordan, from the very place where the priests' feet stood, and carry them over with you, and lay them down in the place where you lodge tonight.'"
4 Then Joshua called the twelve men from the people of Israel, whom he had appointed, a man from each tribe;
5 and Joshua said to them, "Pass on before the ark of the LORD your God into the midst of the Jordan, and take up each of you a stone upon his shoulder, according to the number of the tribes of the people of Israel,
6 that this may be a sign among you, when your children ask in time to come, 'What do those stones mean to you?'
7 Then you shall tell them that the waters of the Jordan were cut off before the ark of the covenant of the LORD; when it passed over the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan were cut off. So these stones shall be to the people of Israel a memorial for ever."
8 And the men of Israel did as Joshua commanded, and took up twelve stones out of the midst of the Jordan, according to the number of the tribes of the people of Israel, as the LORD told Joshua; and they carried them over with them to the place where they lodged, and laid them down there.
9 And Joshua set up twelve stones in the midst of the Jordan, in the place where the feet of the priests bearing the ark of the covenant had stood; and they are there to this day.
MAKING A DIFFERENCE
It was a cold winter's day that Sunday. the parking lot of the church was filling up quickly. I noticed as I got out of my car that fellow church members were whispering among themselves as they walked to the church. As I got closer I saw a man leaned up against the wall outside the church. He was almost lying down, as if he was asleep. He had on a long trench coat that was almost in shreds and a hat topped his head, pulled down so you could not see his face. He wore shoes that looked 30 years old, too small for his feet; with holes all over them and his toes stuck out.
I assumed the man was homeless ...and asleep, so I walked on by and through the doors of the church. We all gathered for fellowship for a few minutes and someone brought up the man lying outside. People snickered and gossiped but no one bothered to ask him to come in, including me. A few moments later church began. We all waited for the preacher to take his place and to give us the word, when the doors to the church opened. In came the homeless man walking down the aisle with his head down. People gasped and whispered and made faces. He made his way down the aisle and up onto the pulpit and took off his hat and coat. My heart sank. There stood our preacher.... he was the homeless man. No one said a word. The preacher took his bible and laid it on the pulpit.
"Folks, I don"t think I have to tell you what I am preaching about today". Then he started singing the words to this song: "if i can help somebody as I pass along, if I can cheer somebody with word or song, if I can show somebody that he's traveling wrong, then my living shall not be in vain."
What would you have done if you had been going into that church that day? What would I have done?? It could have been a "tap on the shoulder" and a quick question, "are you okay". It could have been an invitation to join everyone inside.... it could have been many, many things .... but as it happens so often, there was nothing ...just a walk on by. What would Jesus have done? We all know the answer to that .... we may not know "exactly" what Jesus would have done but we do know he "would" have done something.
In just days, we will celebrate the fourth of July. A special day our nation celebrates each year. When we turn our thoughts in this direction, many of us think about the Statue of Liberty in the New York harbor .. the golden door for many, many refugees who came to America with high hopes as they enter the "land of promise.
The statue of liberty will reopen this summer for the first time since Sept. 11, 2001. Visitors will again read the bronze tablet at the base with its ringing, poetic lines; "give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free..." the poet was Emma Lazarus. Much has been said about the building of the statue itself, a project conceived by a Catholic statesman and created by a protestant sculptor. but little is known of the shy, young jewish poet who gave Lady Liberty her very "soul".
Emma Lazarus was born in 1849 to a prosperous New York city merchant and his wife. Her father doted on her. He thought her too frail and sickly to attend school so he hired private tutors. Emma had a knack for languages. She penned romantic poems inspired by the swashbuckling novels of Sir Walter Scott.
Beyond the customary observance of the Sabbath and the Jewish holy days, Emma had little connection to or interest, in her faith. What held her fascination were the writings of Ralph Waldo Emerson,who became her "mentor". He praised her and he encouraged her to write with passion. In 1881, there were a series of bloody progroms unleashed against the Jews of Russia. Refugees flooded New York. One August morning Emma went to visit these immigrants on Ward Island a desolate
bit of land on the East River, as a part of a welfare committee. There she saw the awful conditions; human beings crowded like livestock in the overburdened facilities. She heard stories of persecution and hardships they endured because of their religious beliefs. She was transformed.
The shy, frail poet vowed to speak out, to tell the world of suffering and courage of Jews. Their cause became hers. She became a crusader. She wanted to make a difference ...and indeed she did.
In 1883, after a trip to Europe where she saw rigid social barriers, she heard about the statue that was coming to America. It would be a symbol for the freedoms found only in America: freedom of speech. freedom of worship. not a fierce warrior, but a woman with a torch in her hand... Lady Liberty.
The organizer of the event asked Emma to participate by contributing a poem. Emma poured out her beliefs on paper. For years, her poem lay forgotten but in 1903, Georgina Schuyler, a sculptor, found a copy in a portfolio in a New York City bookstore and was so moved, she had them inscribed on a tablet mounted on the statue's pedestal, where millions have read it since. Can anyone look at lady liberty today without thinking of the words Emma gave her? "give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free .. for all who make the journey to the new land, the statue is a symbol of America's promise.. a promise Emma Lazarus understood because of her own journey of faith.
In Corinthians 12:5, we read these words: there are varieties of service., but the same lord".
You see, Emma used her talent with words to make a difference. We don't all have the same talents ...but we can make a difference by using the talents we have. Emma Lazarus made a difference for generations that came after her.
On August 27, 2005, hurricane Katrina struck the United States. There were many volunteers who went to New Orleans to help. There was one man who wished he had money to buy chain saws, which were so badly needed. He didn't have that kind of money but he was able to repair chain saws. It was such a simple task ...repair a chain saw... so he went to the stricken area to offer the talent he had.... to make a difference. We can be proud that Hodges Presbyterian church had one such volunteer, Tommy O'Dell. Tommy shared the talent he had because he wanted to make a difference.
Making a difference may take various forms.
Some years ago an individual penned these words about ten thousand who made a difference."Ten thousand. Only a statistic-until I came here to the St. Laurent American Military Cemetery in Normandy. The warm breeze carried the voices of vacationing French families from the beach below-the beach where American troops waded ashore into German artillery fire on June 6,1944.
Now, on the bluff above the beach, it was silent. And there they were ... ten thousand white marble crosses, punctuated by an occasional Star of David. All alike, I thought, as I walked down those endless files of headstones. William ...Henry ...Samuel.... Name, rank, home state were all that remained of the human variety, the personal histories that ended here in Normandy. Individuals reduced to identical markers in this vast grid of graves. Staggered by numbers, I walked on. I stopped in front of a cross that lacked even the distinction of a name. "Here Rests in Honored Glory;" read the inscription, "a Comrade in Arms, Known but to God."
Known to God ...I lifted my eyes to take in the whole sweep of that silent marble throng. Then... God knew each one of them! Knew them as individuals-knew them now. We don't cease to exist in His sight when our earthly history ends. What lives these thousands were leading now in the light of His Presence, we cannot know. But where I'd seen numbers, God saw William, Henry, Samuel. How He shepherds our individual journeys beyond the inferno of our wars, again we cannot know. But, the inscription reminded me, He does. Known to God-what a benediction on all our memories this Memorial Day."
In a novel which appeared in Germany after the first World War the hero is an average citizen living a rather aim-less life in a hopeless, defeated country. He is sick and tired of living but afraid to die. Only one thing keeps him going and that is the thought, the desire, that some way, somehow, somewhere, he will have an opportunity to do at least one thing that would be truly worthwhile. The opportunity came rather suddenly in a rather unexpected way. One day while strolling across a bridge he noticed a group of excited people leaning across the rail pointing, shouting, and screaming. He soon discovered that a child was drowning in midstream. Without another thought, our hero dived in to save the little girl. He forgot only one thing: He did not know how to swim; however, the child managed to reach the shore while he died happy in the knowledge that at long last his miserable, wretched life had found its fulfillment in one unselfish deed, in the thought that he gave himself trying to save someone else. He had made a difference.
If you please, that is the exact statement that Paul re-peatedly makes about Jesus. He gave himself. There are many things that one could point out about the fine art of self-giving. Suffice it to say, in passing, unless we use this God-given gift, we lose it. The same is true of' our talents and abilities. Unless we use them, they disappear. Animals that live in caves become blind. In a few generations there are only sockets where once were eyes. Henry Ward Beecher's younger brother was also a preacher and well on his way to becoming a distinguished Divine. Unfortunately, he became obsessed with the idea that he was losing his sight. He decided to save the vision of one eye by closing it when he read. Eventually he lost the sight of one eye, not the one he used, but the one he closed. A man may train his ear until the treasure of beauti-ful music is his or he may neglect it until it says nothing to him. He may neglect his eyes until he cannot see a beautiful sunset or a majestic mountain, or an angel child, but the sad-dest mistake he can make is to neglect his heart and not make a difference.
During World War II, I watched someone making a difference. I was dug in a hillside overlooking Kadina Airstrip in the Pacific as the air above was full of an fighters in a dog fight.I watched one just overhead. The Japanese Zero had locked in on the tail of an American Marine Corsair and I waited on the burst of machine gun fire that would surely happen next, but suddenly the Corsair turned into the sun with the Zero following. The Corsair stalled and the pilot of the Zero could not see him and overshot the Marine pilot who then rose up behind him and with a burst of gunfire blew the Zero and it's pilot to oblivion as hundred of burning pieces floated toward the valley below.
The Corsair peeled off and started a descent to the air strip below and the flight path would take the Marine Pilot below my position about 75 yards away. I could see the pilot through the canopy when he turned hard to his right away from the airstrip where he crashed. I tried to get to him but the 50 caliber and 20mm ammunition was exploding. When I reached the crash site the flames had consumed the pilot. The fuselage of the plane was riddled with bullet holes, indicating the pilot was dying on his way down. In avoiding the airstrip the Marine Pilot, made a difference.
The preservation of the United States of America firmly set in place on July 4th, 1776, when the Continental Congress adopted the Declaration of Independence, which we will honor Wednesday with parades, American Flags, picnics, fireworks and speeches, has been made possible because all of the above who have made a difference.
ON THURSDAY, JULY 3, 1947, PETER MARSHALL WHO WAS THE CHAPLAIN OF THE US Senate DELIVERED A CLOSING PRAYER, " GOD of our fathers, whose Almighty hand hath made and preserved our Nation, grant that our people may understand what it is they celebrate tomorrow.
May they remember how bitterly our freedom was won, the down payment that was made for it, the installments that have been made since this Republic was born, and the price that must yet be paid for our liberty.
May freedom be seen not as the right to do as we please but as the opportunity to please to do what is right.
May it ever be understood that our liberty is under God and can be found nowhere else.
May our faith be something that is not merely stamped upon our coins, but expressed in our lives.
Let us, as a nation, not be afraid of standing alone for the rights of men, since we were born that way, as the only nation on earth that came into being "for the glory of God and the advancement of the Christian faith."
We know that we shall be true to the Pilgrim dream when we are true to the God they worshiped.
To the extent that America honors Thee, wilt Thou bless America, and keep her true as Thou hast kept her free, and make her good as Thou hast made her rich. Amen."
H.Otto McDonald a member of Hodges Presbyterian Church, began broadcasting in 1952 his "Little Country Church," on the radio and whose devotions are on this web page. Otto has served as a Presbyterian Elder on three congregations and has been a Lay Minister for 52 years, and resides with his wife Betty Rose in Greenwood, SC.
The third Sunday of each month is "Can Sunday." Bring non-perishable goods which will be given to the Food Bank to help those families which are going through difficult times.
Soup labels are also collected to be given to Thornwell Home. If you wish,please mail soup labels to P.O. Box 99, Hodges, SC 29653.Thornwell School receives educational needs for donated soup labels and all are appreciated.