“Finding Father Benjamin” Matthew 5:13-16 February 23, 2014 First UMC of Paragould Rev. John Fleming ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Most of you know that Max Lucado is one of my favorite, if not my favorite authors. In his book, Outlive Your Life, he tells a story, a fable, if you will, that he entitles Finding Father Benjamin. I would like to share most of it with you this morning. In the fable Max tells that an unfavorable wind blew a ship off course and the sailors on it spotted unchartered islands. The Captain ordered the anchor to be dropped so that they could explore the islands. On the first island, the captain only saw sadness. The children were underfed. Those who lived on the island were in conflict. There was no farming and no food development, no treatment for the sick and no schools. The captain came to the quick conclusion that the people on the island are very needy. Visits to the other islands revealed the same thing. The captain sighed when he saw it and said, “This is no life for these people!” Then he stepped onto the largest of the islands. It was a different picture; the people there were well fed. Irrigation systems nourished the fields where crops were growing. Strong road connected the villages on this island. The children had bright eyes and strong bodies. The captain asked for an explanation. He wanted to know how and why this island moved so far ahead of the others. The chief of the island had the answer. He said, “Father Benjamin. He educated us in everything from agriculture to health. He built schools, clinics, and wells.” The captain asked, “Can you take me to see him?” The chief nodded and signaled two tribesmen to join him. They took the captain over a jungle ridge to a medical clinic. Inside were clean beds and trained caretakers. They showed the captain the shelves of medicine and they introduced him to the staff. But he didn’t see Father Benjamin and so he repeated his request, “I would like to see Father Benjamin. Can you take me to where he lives?” The chief and the tribesmen talked for a moment and then motioned for the captain to follow them. They walked along the shoreline until the reached a series of fish ponds and canals that connected the ocean to these ponds. As the tide rises, fish pass from the ocean into the ponds. Again the captain is amazed. He sees fishermen and workers, gatekeepers and net casters, but he doesn’t see Father Benjamin. He wonders if he is making himself clear and so he asks again, “I don’t see Father Benjamin. Please take me to where he lives.” The islander conferred again and asked the captain to follow them. They climbed up a winding path, at the end of it was a small chapel made out of wood and straw. The voice of the chief said, “He has taught us about God.” They walk inside, where ther is an altar, a large wooden cross, a Bible, and several hand carved pews. The captain asked, “Is this where Father Benjamin lives?” The men nodded and smiled. The captain asked, “Can I talk with him?” The chief’s face suddenly was very serious. He said, “Oh, that would be impossible.” The captain asked why and the chief said that Father Benjamin had died several years before. The captain just stared at the three men from the island. He said, “I asked to see him and you showed me a clinic, some fish farms, and a chapel. You said nothing about his death!” The chief said, “You didn’t ask about his death. You asked to see where he lives. We showed you.” And so begins Max’s book. I’ve just started reading it, but I already know that is theme is making a difference and making your life count. Along with the book is a four week Bible study that I hope we will offer sometime this spring. Making a difference and making your life count for something is an important sermon to preach from time to time. The scripture lesson I read for us this morning comes early in what we have come to call Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. Jesus leaves no unturned stones in the sermon covering everything from anger and divorce to forgiveness and prayer. He begins the sermon with what we have come to call The Beatitudes, a glimpse of what the world should look like. Jesus follows that with how the church should behave. He says, “You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world.” Those are two strong images. I will admit this to you, I know less about salt than I do light. Ever since a doctor told me to stay away from salt, I have but this I do know, in Jesus’ day, salt served the same purpose that refrigerators and canning do for us today. Salt preserves things. Salt does more than flavor things. I can’t remember the first time I heard it, but I can remember hearing someone say, “He is the salt of the earth!” When I first heard it, I didn’t understand it. For sure I didn’t tie it to the Bible, to this passage. Someone who is the salt of the earth is someone who has made a difference in a community and in a life. Jesus also says this, “You are the light of the world.” I know more about light. Light is better for me. It is better for all of us. We have a great love for light. When all the snow and ice was around and it was gloomy everyday, I was hoping for sunshine! In my opinion, the most powerful worship service we have every year is the eleven o’clock Christmas Eve service. After the sermon and after communion, I go to the Christ candle and light a candle. I give that light to the ushers who pass it along to those worshipping and we sing, Silent Night. Just moments before, the room was dark, but the light shines and the darkness can’t overcome it. Jesus says that we are the light of the world. He says that we are to let our light shine before men. He warns against hiding our lights under a bowl. Lights, you see, are meant to shine. A flame, in the day of Jesus, was hard to come by. Utility companies were not around. Lighters were not around. Matches had not been invented. No one casually blew out a light. It was too hard to ignite again. In Jesus’ day, when you left your house, for safety reasons, you placed a bowl over your lamp. That doesn’t sound very safe to me, but that is what they did. When you returned home you lifted the bowl off the light. Jesus also said this, “A city on a hill cannot be hidden.” I often think of that image when I cross the Arkansas River, coming south on I-430. If you do that at night, up and to the left, you can see houses that are filled with light. There is no hiding them. And yet darkness is all around. I think the question we ought to ask is not, “Why is there so much darkness?” I think we ought to ask, “Where is the light?” Sitting in our congregation today are doctors, nurses, school teachers and administrators, pharmacists, bankers, insurance agents, housewives, and house husbands. Here today are people who work in offices and with their hands. There are business people and youth and children and retired people. I want to ask all of you, “Is your light shining?” Your light makes a difference. Take this quiz. Answer six questions, here are the first three. Name the last five college football national champions. Name the last five Heisman trophy winners. Name the women who have won the last five Miss America Pageants. Now answer these three questions. Who fed and held you when you couldn’t do things for yourselves? What is the name of your first grade teacher? Who is the friend you would call if there was an emergency? Everyone knows the answer to the last three questions. My guess is that you had trouble with the first three. Today, our children sang This Little Light of Mine. At the close of our sermon, I want to show a two minute video I found that, I hope, will help us think about being light in our world. My question for us today is, Is your light shining? Here is something else I know. Candles burn down. The ones on our altar are replaced from time to time. Light bulbs burn out, and so do people. I heard the story of a man who was filling his gasoline tank at a convenience store. A mini-van full of kids pulled up and a woman got out of the driver’s seat. The man struck up a conversation. He asked, “Are all those your kids, or are you having a picnic?” The harried mother answered, “They are all my kids, and it’s no picnic!” People get tired and the buzz word for it these days is burnout. A New York Times article this past year says that pastors burn out at an alarming rate. To top it off, we are overweight, suffer from high blood pressure depression, and divorce and would change jobs if given the chance. Pastors aren’t the only ones who burn out. We get tired of routines, of doing the things that we have always done. We want to be a part of something bigger than ourselves. How do you get the most years out of your life and the most life out of your years? How do you let your light shine? I think you let your light shine by looking beyond yourself, to others. People in our church talk about volunteering at the Witt House. In the paper this past Tuesday, we read about a new ministry that Cody Gray is helping with, something called Hands and Feet, building wheel chair ramps for those for whom mobility is an issue. We sometimes think that we are alone. No one has ever felt the way you do. It seems pretty dark. Then the phone rings. Then the mail is delivered. Someone makes a visit or brings dinner over just because you are on their mind. To the giver, it is a simple thing, but to the one receiving it, it is no small thing. It made the difference. It’s not something you will soon forget. It was light coming into your darkness. You are the light of the world, friends. Let your light shine!
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