Abraham Lincoln’s second inaugural address was perhaps his most memorable. The long and bitter civil war had ended with a catastrophic loss of life for both sides. During the war Lincoln had agonized over the irony that both the North and South had gone to war thinking that each of their positions was a matter of God will, and each side was simply acting upon it. He in fact had attempted to resolve his dilemma by settling upon the thought that God had permitted the conflict in order to end human slavery, a proposition that was deeply disputed by most Southerners.
The war had ended at a terrible cost of lives, and Lincoln second inaugural address was conciliatory in tone urging “malice toward none”. He was also keenly aware that he had become the focal point for everyone’s disappointment in for the crippled economy, the tremendous loss of life, and the fact that many parts of the country in ruin. He was immensely unpopular and in some respects hated by families all over the nation whose sons were the victims of the war. Lincoln was assassinated six weeks after that.
When Lincoln died there was only two items in his wallet. One was a photograph of his 12 year old son Willy who died years earlier from smallpox, and a very old editorial clipping from a British newspaper. The editorial expressed the opinion that Lincoln would in time , many years after his death be remembered and memorialized by the American public as one of their greatest Presidents.What is remarkable to me is not that the prediction came to pass, but that Lincoln’s personal legacy mattered so much to him. Arguably, more than anything else.
What’s in your wallet? Maybe it’s another way of asking what’s in your heart. Parenthetically, deleting just the apostrophe after the word “what” “may pose a more disturbing question. Many have observed that a cursory review of our pocket books and appointment calendars would reveal a candid “snap shot” of who we really are and what we actually value. We all want normal lives which we define as “what works for me” at a particular times in our lives. All our activities are selected and prioritized by what we value. I am not articulating the smaller issue that children’s sports, yard work, golfing, fishing, several extra hours at the church of the inner spring verses church attendance at Sunnybrook. All the above is true, but I am more concerned with the bigger picture, a bigger priority, and a bigger commitment.
One of my favorite licensed clinical theologians Sharon Daugherty expressed it best when she said “We are worldly people trying squeeze in a spiritual component, when we should be spiritual people trying to influence worldly culture”. We must ask continually ourselves “do our worldly (personal) plans intersect the will of God for our lives?”
For many, doing God’s will means asking God to come alongside or validate the decisions we have already made.. But when do we ever legitimately ask about God’s will for our lives? I love Francis Chan’s story in his series “The Forgotten God”. Francis talks about sitting on the beach at sunrise with starbucks and a blueberry muffin asking “What do you want from me God?”. When God responded Francis revealed his embarrassment of not be able to the people all around him that he had somehow overlooked –or forgotten. God wasn’t asking Francis to minister to people on a beach at dawn with starbucks and a muffin, but to people who have never seen a beach but who exist without water and food on a daily basis.
I remember a story years ago by humorist Erma Bombeck entitled. “I’ll Bet it’s Snowing in Chicago”. I tried to find the story on the internet but could not. So with apologies to the late Erma Bombek , I will paraphrase her story.
Erma was traveling to her home in Chicago for Christmas, and was in a crowded New York airport on Christmas Eve waiting to board a flight. She was uncomfortable in having to take a seat in the crowded boarding area next to an older woman who was poorly dressed and struggling with a knitting project. Erma says she was heavily engaged on her cell phone and lap top when the woman said,”I’ll bet it’s snowing in Chicago”. Erma immediately expressed her hopefulness that it was not snowing in Chicago and went on to blurt out all the last minute details that had yet to be accomplished before Christmas. After she had complained about all her distractions and difficulties with arranging family gatherings during the Christmas holidays,, she paused to ask if the woman was going home to be with her family.
The woman said she no longer had a family, that her husband had died a few days earlier, and she was accompanying his casket on a plane to Chicago much later that evening. Only Erma could accurately express her feelings of self absorption and shallowness. She spent what little time she had in what Erma described as one of the most real conversations she experienced in a long time. As Erma stood to board the aircraft, another traveler took her seat in the boarding area. And as Erma walked away she could hear the old woman say, “I’ll bet it’s snowing in Chicago”.
Earlier this week, I received a phone call from a woman in Minco, Oklahoma who told me her daughter, an OSU student, had obtained a bible given to her by young man from Sunnybrook. Over the years, many people have given to me Bibles as presents because I suspect they figured I needed to read it more than most. Many of them had my name imprinted on the cover. Recently, I gave a rather large collection of my “gift Bibles” to one of our actively engaged college students to distribute to anyone whenever he thought it would be helpful or appropriate. The girl had given a Bible with my name imprinted on the cover to a family friend who is in prison. The young man in prison beganto read the New Testament. He also became curious about the name imprinted on the cover of his newly acquired Bible. His family did a little research, and they found me and my story. They are heartbroken about their son. They asked if I would come and talk to them in Minco, and if I would be willing to visit their son in prison.
I’ll bet it’s snowing in Chicago…..
