Wednesday, August 21, 2024
One of the things I enjoy most about ministry is the powerful testimony of people in the church. It comes in a variety of different ways. It may be a story told, a poem shared, words to an old hymn re-written. It may be a project they are working on and want to tell me about it and why it is so important. All of these ‘testimonies’ have something in common – they are all offered by people trying to find their way when life can be difficult, confusing, complex and challenging. They all find hope, direction and some peace in what they are doing. Indeed what they offer betrays a deep faith. I don’t get something every week but there are some weeks I get a number of things. Today I want to share them with you so that they can touch your hearts and lives the way they touch mine.
The first is from Helen Neff. She handed me an old piece of paper folded into a small square and on it were the words to the following poem. She said, ‘I don’t know whether you will like it or not, but I do and wanted to share it with you’. Helen, I love it and here it is:
The Touch of the Masters Hand by Myra Brooks Welch
T’was battered and scarred, and the auctioneer thought it scarcely worth his while to waste much time on the old violin, but held it up with a smile; "What am I bidden, good folks," he cried, "Who'll start the bidding for me?" "A dollar, a dollar"; then two!" "Only two? Two dollars, and who'll make it three? Three dollars, once; three dollars twice; going for three.." But no, from the room, far back, a gray-haired man came forward and picked up the bow; Then, wiping the dust from the old violin, and tightening the loose strings, he played a melody pure and sweet as caroling angel sings.
The music ceased, and the auctioneer, with a voice that was quiet and low, said; "What am I bid for the old violin?" And he held it up with the bow. A thousand dollars, and who'll make it two? Two thousand! And who'll make it three? Three thousand, once, three thousand, twice, and going and gone," said he. The people cheered, but some of them cried, "We do not quite understand what changed its worth." Swift came the reply: "The touch of a master's hand."
And many a man with life out of tune, and battered and scarred with sin, Is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd, much like the old violin, A "mess of pottage," a glass of wine; a game - and he travels on."He is going" once, and "going twice, He's going and almost gone." But the Master comes, and the foolish crowd never can quite understand the worth of a soul and the change that's wrought by the touch of the Master's hand.
The second thing I received this week was on Monday. It was from Jim McDowell. He and Lois have been attending St. Andrew’s very regularly. It was in response to the sermon about Eternal Life on Sunday and I had asked the congregation to sing the following two hymns as if they had to do with the challenges of everyday life as opposed to just the struggles we face in times of death. Jim took it upon himself to rewrite the hymns. This is the result, and again I love it. Thank you Jim.
SHALL WE GATHER AT THE RIVER?
Shall we gather at the river
Where so many feet have trod;
With its crystal current ever
Flowing by the throne of God?
(Refrain for 1-3)
Yes, we’ll gather at the river,
The beautiful refreshing river;
Renewed by this life giving water
That flows from the Source who is God
Long the shore bank of the river,
Strengthened in its silver spray,
Grace to serve the Lord its giver
Comes to us for each task of the day.
As we journey up the river,
Joy in serving will be found.
Grace our spirits will deliver,
As we press on to higher ground.
When life’s journey is completed,
And our pilgrimage will cease;
By heaven’s throngs we will be greeted
Then find rest and perfect peace.
(Final refrain)
Yes, we shall gather at this river,
This beautiful life giving river,
Gather with the saints in glory
At the river and throne of God.
PRECIOUS LORD, TAKE MY HAND
Precious Lord, take my hand,
Lead me on, help me stand;
My tasks seem hard, I feel weak, sometimes worn.
Through the storm, in the night,
Lead me on to Your light:
Take my hand, precious Lord,lead me on.
If the way grows too drear,
we know that You’ll linger near,
When our strength is almost gone,
Hear our cry, hear our call,
Hold these hands, lest we fall:
Take our hands, precious Lord, help us on.
When the darkness appears
And the night draws near,
And life’s day is almost gone,
At the river I stand, Guide my feet, hold my hand:
Take my hand, precious Lord, lead me home.
Blessings this day to all of you who day by day try to live out your faith, gaining strength as you lean into God and trying to share God’s love to all you meet as best you can.
Marty
Rev. Marty Molengraaf (he, him)
Minister, St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church