Persistence

From the Diary of John Wesley:

Sunday Morning, May 5. Preached in St. Ann's. Was asked not to come back anymore.

Sunday p.m., May 5. Preached at St. John's. Deacons said "Get out and stay out."

Sunday a.m., May 12. Preached at St. Jude's. Can't go back there either.

Sunday p.m., May 12. Preached at St. George's. Kicked out again.

Sunday a.m., May 19. Preached at St. somebody else's. Deacons called special meeting and said I couldn't return.

Sunday p.m., May 19. Preached on the street. Kicked off the street.

Sunday a.m., May 26. Preached in meadow, chased out of meadow as bull was turned loose during the service.

Sunday a.m., June 2. Preached out at the edge of town, kicked off the highway.

Sunday p.m., June 2, afternoon service. Preached in a pasture, 10,000 people came to hear me.

Persistence

From the Diary of John Wesley:

Sunday Morning, May 5. Preached in St. Ann's. Was asked not to come back anymore.

Sunday p.m., May 5. Preached at St. John's. Deacons said "Get out and stay out."

Sunday a.m., May 12. Preached at St. Jude's. Can't go back there either.

Sunday p.m., May 12. Preached at St. George's. Kicked out again.

Sunday a.m., May 19. Preached at St. somebody else's. Deacons called special meeting and said I couldn't return.

Sunday p.m., May 19. Preached on the street. Kicked off the street.

Sunday a.m., May 26. Preached in meadow, chased out of meadow as bull was turned loose during the service.

Sunday a.m., June 2. Preached out at the edge of town, kicked off the highway.

Sunday p.m., June 2, afternoon service. Preached in a pasture, 10,000 people came to hear me.

Stop and Hear the Music

A man sat at a metro station in Washington DC and started to play the violin; it was a cold January morning. He played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, since it was rush hour, it was calculated that thousands of people went through the station, most of them on their way to work.

Three minutes went by and a middle aged man noticed there was musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried up to meet his schedule.

A minute later, the violinist received his first dollar tip: a woman threw the money in the till and without stopping continued to walk.

A few minutes later, someone leaned against the wall to listen to him, but the man looked at his watch and started to walk again. Clearly he was late for work.

The one who paid the most attention was a 3 year old boy. His mother tagged him along, hurried but the kid stopped to look at the violinist. Finally the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk turning his head all the time This action was repeated by several other children. All the parents, without exception, forced them to move on.

In the 45 minutes the musician played, only 6 people stopped and stayed for a while. About 20 gave him money but continued to walk their normal pace. He collected $32. When he finished playing and silence took over, no one noticed it. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.

No one knew this but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the best musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written with a violin worth 3.5 million dollars.

Two days before his playing in the subway, Joshua Bell sold out at a theater in Boston and the seats averaged $100.

Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and priorities of people. The outlines were: in a commonplace environment at an inappropriate hour: Do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize the talent in an unexpected context?

One of the possible conclusions from this experience could be: If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world playing the best music ever written, how many other things are we missing?

[Received from Rev. Allyson Paxton]

A Good Gift

Bidding had been a bit disappointing at the Harvest Festival Live Auction the year after terrorists removed the World Trade Center from the New York City skyline forever. The economy was uncertain, unemployment was on the rise, and people were cautious with their spending, even if the money was going for missions. But the atmosphere in the church Fellowship Hall was lively and joyful, even though many “bargains” were handed over by the auctioneer.

But then two giggling teenagers paraded around the room with a beautiful hand-stitched wedding ring quilt. Pat Armstrong nudged her husband. “That’s the one,” she said. “Don’t you think it’ll look perfect in our guest room?” Bob, who had learned long ago that it was easier to agree with his wife’s decorating fancies than fight them, wisely nodded. “Get your number up!” Bob calmly obliged, and the bidding began. The numbers rose: $150...$250...$550...$750. A similar quilt had sold 15 minutes ago for $500. People began to pay attention. Nothing in the auction so far had created this much of a stir. “Keep going,” Pat said. “The church needs the money for missions and I need that quilt!” Bob nodded. $850.

Soon, there was only one other bidder, a small man seated quietly in the back corner of the room. Pat couldn’t see who it was. But it didn’t matter. She wanted that quilt! $1150...$1350...$1500 going once...going twice...SOLD! The crowd cheered, the auctioneer wiped his brow, Pat bounced in her seat. And if Bob was slightly startled by the amount of money he had just agreed to pay, his emotions were confined to one, long sigh.

The auction continued. A week-long catamaran voyage in the Caribbean drew $3,000. But nothing seemed as exciting as the duel for this wedding ring quilt.

After the auction, Sunday school class members congratulated Bob and Pat on their win. Pat asked, “Who was it we were bidding against? I couldn’t see them?” “It was Don Frogge,” someone said. Bob and Pat looked at each other. “Don Frogge?” Pat said. “Didn’t his wife stitch this quilt?” “She did. It was the last one she made before she died. She intended it for the Harvest Festival auction, and Don thought it was right to donate it. But it was her last quilt. He realized he wanted to buy it back and keep it.”

Don and Amy had been married for 52 years. Bob and Pat didn’t even have to discuss their intentions as they grabbed the quilt and headed out to the parking lot to catch Don. “Don!” Bob called. “Wait up!” They reached Don at his car and handed him the quilt. “We bought this for you,” Pat said. “We want you to have it.” Don was speechless, and full of emotion. “I intended to buy this quilt back. I know Amy wanted the church to have the money. But I wanted to have her quilt. I could tell you meant to have it, too, Pat. So I let it go. I tried to tell myself that she would have wanted me to do that, but...” He looked up. “Thank you.”

“We’ll see you Sunday,” said Bob and Pat. And they walked off to their car, very satisfied with their $1500 purchase. Bob put the quilt lovingly on the seat of his car, closed the door, and walked back into the church. At the Auction Check-Out table, Bob pulled out his checkbook and wrote a check for $1500. He knew he was blessed to have received the quilt from his friends. And he thought it only fitting that the church's missions budget should be twice blessed by this gift.

Amazing and Uncomfortable Grace

It was in the news recently that there is a luxury apartment building in a very fancy housing district in my town and it was discovered that some of the residents of this apartment building were actually on public assistance. They were what we used to call welfare folks. Well, when that news came out, the homeowners in that very fashionable section of town were outraged. They didn’t want their property values coming down so they demanded and got a public hearing. I watched a little of it on the news and the first person to go to the microphone was a young mother with a baby on her hip. Her story was that when she got pregnant, her boyfriend took the car and left her. Left her with nothing. After the baby was born she managed to get a job as a maid in one of the local motels and if she didn’t have the apartment she couldn’t have the job, and if she didn’t have the job she couldn’t feed the baby. And she begged for the assistance to continue. The next person to the microphone was a homeowner who said that he and his wife had poured their life savings into their home and they wanted their investment protected. He turned and looked at the young mother with the baby and he said, “I understand how you feel, but I earned mine and you’re going to have to earn yours.” Well, when you have experienced grace, you can never look another human being in the face again and say, “I earned mine, you’re going to have to earn yours,” because everything we have is a gift of God. Everything is grace. Everything.

[Tom Long, http://www.30goodminutes.org/csec/sermon/long_4902.htm]

Hard to Please

On the seventh day God rested....and on the 8th day, God started answering complaints.

A man dreamed of joining a monastery. His goal in life was to become a monk. So one day he went to a monastery and talked to the head monk and said, “I have longed to join a monastery. I know that I will need to renounce my worldly possessions and follow the order of living that this monastery requires. I am prepared to do these things. What else must I do to join?”

The head monk replied, "You might find our rules more difficult than you expect. Here in our monastery, we require a vow of silence. Our monks are only allowed to say two words every year.”

The man said, “That sounds a bit extreme; but I’ve wanted to be a monk for so long, I’m going to give it a try.” So he was shown to his room. And so for the next twelve months the man never said a word. At the end of his first year he was taken to the head monk, and was told he could now say his two words. With great feeling, the man said, “Food’s bad.” He went back to his room, and was silent for another twelve months.

At the end of his second year he again was taken to the head monk for his two words. This time his two words were, “Bed’s hard.” The head monk nodded. And the man went back to his room.

Another twelve months of silence passed, and the man was brought again to the head monk for his annual two words. This time the man said, “I quit.” The head monk nodded wisely and said, “Well, it doesn’t surprise me. All you’ve done is complain ever since you got here.”

The Tire

At Sydney University, there were four students taking Organic Chemistry. They did so well on all the quizzes, midterms and labs, etc., that each had an "A" so far for the semester. These four friends were so confident with the finals approaching that the weekend before, they decided to go down to Canberra and party with some friends there. They had a great time.

However, after all the hard partying, they slept all day Sunday and didn't make it back to Sydney until early Monday morning - the morning of their final exam! Rather than taking the final then, they decided to find their professor AFTER the exam and explain to him why they missed it. They explained that they had gone to Canberra to do some research in the ANU archives for the weekend with the plan to come back in time to study, but, unfortunately, they had a flat tire on the way back, didn't have a spare, and couldn't get help for a long time. As a result, they only just arrived now!

The professor thought it over and then agreed they could make up their final exam the following day. The guys were elated and relieved. They studied hard that night - all night - and went in the next day at the time the professor had told them. He placed them in separate rooms and handed each of them a test booklet, and told them to begin. The first problem was worth five points. It was something simple about free radical formation. "Cool," they all thought in their separate rooms, "this is going to be easy." Each finished the problem and then turned the page.

Question 2 (for 95 points): Which tire?

[This story was found at: http://www.allinspiration.com/Education/Lighthearted/the_tyre.html]