If it had not a' been for Cotton-Eyed Joe,
I'd have been married a long time ago.
Some songs tell stories.
Often sad stories.
Stories of disappointment in love.
That folk song Cotton-Eyed Joe which has been kicking around for generations expresses this disappointment. The song has been around for at least a hundred fifty years. About a man called Cotton-Eyed Joe.
Interesting thing about folk songs. A song starts in part of the country with one set of words. Then it gets picked up and carried to another location and winds up with some different words. Then the song moves somewhere else and gets the words changed some more. And so it goes. Sometimes they wind up with thirty or forty stanzas.
The words I remember to Cotton-Eyed Joe went something like this:
Don't you remember, don't you know?
Daddy worked a man they called Cotton-Eyed Joe.
Daddy worked a man they called Cotton-Eyed Joe.
If it had not a' been for Cotton-Eyed Joe,
I'd have been married a long time ago.
I'd have been married a long time ago.
If it had not a' been for Cotton-Eyed Joe,
I'd have been married a long time ago.
As I remember it sung by groups such as Bob Wills and the Texas Playboys or Bill Monroe and his Blue Grass Boys, we didn't get many details about what happened. There's just enough to let us know the singer lost his lady love, and he blames old Cotton-Eyed Joe for it.
Had not a' been for Cotton-Eyed Joe,
I'd have been married a long time ago.
Yes, Cotton-Eyed Joe ruined the life of the man who sings the song.
The man's life would have been different if it had not been for Cotton-Eyed Joe. That scalawag is to blame for this man's unhappiness.
Cotton-Eyed Joe drifted into the community:
Blew into town on a travelin' show
Nobody danced like the Cotton eyed Joe.
Daddy put Cotton-Eyed Joe to work.
If only Daddy hadn't hired Cotton-Eyed Joe.
If only Cotton-Eyed Joe hadn't met the singer's girl friend.
If only she hadn't been swept off her feet by Cotton-Eyed Joe.
If only the singer could have done something about the situation.
If only. . . .
If only. . .
If only. . . .
This didn't happen last week or last month or even last year. One stanza says . . .
Often sad stories.
Stories of disappointment in love.
That folk song Cotton-Eyed Joe which has been kicking around for generations expresses this disappointment. The song has been around for at least a hundred fifty years. About a man called Cotton-Eyed Joe.
Interesting thing about folk songs. A song starts in part of the country with one set of words. Then it gets picked up and carried to another location and winds up with some different words. Then the song moves somewhere else and gets the words changed some more. And so it goes. Sometimes they wind up with thirty or forty stanzas.
The words I remember to Cotton-Eyed Joe went something like this:
Don't you remember, don't you know?
Daddy worked a man they called Cotton-Eyed Joe.
Daddy worked a man they called Cotton-Eyed Joe.
If it had not a' been for Cotton-Eyed Joe,
I'd have been married a long time ago.
I'd have been married a long time ago.
If it had not a' been for Cotton-Eyed Joe,
I'd have been married a long time ago.
As I remember it sung by groups such as Bob Wills and the Texas Playboys or Bill Monroe and his Blue Grass Boys, we didn't get many details about what happened. There's just enough to let us know the singer lost his lady love, and he blames old Cotton-Eyed Joe for it.
Had not a' been for Cotton-Eyed Joe,
I'd have been married a long time ago.
Yes, Cotton-Eyed Joe ruined the life of the man who sings the song.
The man's life would have been different if it had not been for Cotton-Eyed Joe. That scalawag is to blame for this man's unhappiness.
Cotton-Eyed Joe drifted into the community:
Blew into town on a travelin' show
Nobody danced like the Cotton eyed Joe.
Daddy put Cotton-Eyed Joe to work.
If only Daddy hadn't hired Cotton-Eyed Joe.
If only Cotton-Eyed Joe hadn't met the singer's girl friend.
If only she hadn't been swept off her feet by Cotton-Eyed Joe.
If only the singer could have done something about the situation.
If only. . . .
If only. . .
If only. . . .
This didn't happen last week or last month or even last year. One stanza says . . .
Eighteen nineteen, twenty years ago,
There was a man called Cotton-eye Joe.
Somebody else added more stanzas, about how long it's been since Cotton-eyed Joe did him in:
O Lord, o Lord, come pity my case,
For I'm gettin' old and wrinkled in the face.
If it hadn't not a' been for Cotton-Eyed Joe,
I'd 'a been married forty years ago. (http://www.everything2.com/index.pl?node_id=1478981)
This guy has carried his burden forty years because of Cotton-Eyed Joe.
Don't you feel sorry for the guy who sings the song?
I don't.
He comes across as a wimp who has gone through life blaming other people for his misfortunes. There's no indication the singer made any effort to save the relationship with his fair lady.
Daddy put Cotton-Eyed Joe to work.
Cotton-Eyed Joe went to work in wooing the fair young lady.
And the singer found himself out in the cold.
There was a man called Cotton-eye Joe.
Somebody else added more stanzas, about how long it's been since Cotton-eyed Joe did him in:
O Lord, o Lord, come pity my case,
For I'm gettin' old and wrinkled in the face.
If it hadn't not a' been for Cotton-Eyed Joe,
I'd 'a been married forty years ago. (http://www.everything2.com/index.pl?node_id=1478981)
This guy has carried his burden forty years because of Cotton-Eyed Joe.
Don't you feel sorry for the guy who sings the song?
I don't.
He comes across as a wimp who has gone through life blaming other people for his misfortunes. There's no indication the singer made any effort to save the relationship with his fair lady.
Daddy put Cotton-Eyed Joe to work.
Cotton-Eyed Joe went to work in wooing the fair young lady.
And the singer found himself out in the cold.
I could have been successful if it had not been for that guy who got that good job I applied for. I could have been much better off in life if it had not been for Daddy favoring my brother.I could have been much happier in life if it had not been for my husband taking that job in another town.
I could have made better grades in college if it had not been for professors who had it in for me.
I could have gotten a promotion if it had not been for that other worker who buttered up the boss.
I could have been . . .
I could have been . . .
I could have been . . .
I could have made better grades in college if it had not been for professors who had it in for me.
I could have gotten a promotion if it had not been for that other worker who buttered up the boss.
I could have been . . .
I could have been . . .
I could have been . . .
Now, listen:
Sometimes things get in our way which we can't help, despite our best efforts.
Sometimes other people do get the breaks and leave us wishing.
Sometimes things just don't work out.
But sometimes we just make excuses for ourselves.
Sometimes we just point our fingers at someone else.
You know about the man who was praying about a situation in his life, and he prayed, "Lord, show me the solution to my problem." When he opened his eyes, first thing he saw was a mirror. The man in the song had responsibility for himself. He shouldn't go through life blaming Cotton-Eyed Joe.
JOHN 5:1-18
Our Bible story today is about a man who has gone through life blaming other people, the way the man in the song blamed Cotton-Eyed Joe.
Thirty-eight years of blaming other people for his physical condition.
Like the singer who spends forty years blaming Cotton-Eyed Joe.
We will see the man shift responsibility away from himself three times in the Bible passage
(Influenced by William E. Hull, "John," Broadman Bible Commentary, Volume 9. Nashville, Tenn.: Broadman Press, 1970, p.260ff).
This poor man is crippled, and the first example of shifting his responsibility has to do with his condition.
He has been crippled thirty-eight years.
Jesus sees the man lying alongside a pool in Jerusalem.
The pool is known for its healing properties.
A legend says an angel comes to the pool from time to time to stir up the waters. And when the angel stirs the waters, the first sick person to scramble into the pool will be healed.
The pool is called Bethesda or Bethzatha.
Bethzatha means "olive place" or "the place of the olives," probably because there had been an olive grove before they built the pool.
On the other hand, Bethesda means "House of Mercy," a most fitting name, if people flock there with the expectation of finding healing for their bodies.
(E. G. Kraeling, "Bethesda," Dictionary of the Bible. Edited by James Hastings. Revised Edition by Frederick C. Grant and H. H. Rowley. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1963, p. 99.)
Sometimes things get in our way which we can't help, despite our best efforts.
Sometimes other people do get the breaks and leave us wishing.
Sometimes things just don't work out.
But sometimes we just make excuses for ourselves.
Sometimes we just point our fingers at someone else.
You know about the man who was praying about a situation in his life, and he prayed, "Lord, show me the solution to my problem." When he opened his eyes, first thing he saw was a mirror. The man in the song had responsibility for himself. He shouldn't go through life blaming Cotton-Eyed Joe.
JOHN 5:1-18
Our Bible story today is about a man who has gone through life blaming other people, the way the man in the song blamed Cotton-Eyed Joe.
Thirty-eight years of blaming other people for his physical condition.
Like the singer who spends forty years blaming Cotton-Eyed Joe.
We will see the man shift responsibility away from himself three times in the Bible passage
(Influenced by William E. Hull, "John," Broadman Bible Commentary, Volume 9. Nashville, Tenn.: Broadman Press, 1970, p.260ff).
This poor man is crippled, and the first example of shifting his responsibility has to do with his condition.
He has been crippled thirty-eight years.
Jesus sees the man lying alongside a pool in Jerusalem.
The pool is known for its healing properties.
A legend says an angel comes to the pool from time to time to stir up the waters. And when the angel stirs the waters, the first sick person to scramble into the pool will be healed.
The pool is called Bethesda or Bethzatha.
Bethzatha means "olive place" or "the place of the olives," probably because there had been an olive grove before they built the pool.
On the other hand, Bethesda means "House of Mercy," a most fitting name, if people flock there with the expectation of finding healing for their bodies.
(E. G. Kraeling, "Bethesda," Dictionary of the Bible. Edited by James Hastings. Revised Edition by Frederick C. Grant and H. H. Rowley. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1963, p. 99.)
So the crowds swarm in hopes of being first to get in the pool. The man, who is the central figure in story,
cannot walk. Someone brings him to the pool day by day, but this has gone on for thirty-eight years, and he is no
closer to healing than he was thirty-eight years ago.
Jesus sees this man and comes over to show his concern. Jesus asks the man, "Do you want to be healed?"
That may sound like a strange question. But when Jesus asks it, we hear the man's first excuse.
Actually, two excuses rolled into one:
First, the man says, "I don't have anyone to help me."
Then, he says, "When I try to get to water, someone always beats me there."
If only somebody would help me onto my feet when the angel troubles the waters.
If only I weren't this poor crippled man when the angel troubles the waters.
If only so many other people didn't get ahead of me when the angel troubles the waters.
If only. . . .
If only. . . .
If only. . . .
Jesus doesn't ask him about his circumstances. Jesus doesn't even acknowledge the crippled man's excuses. Jesus simply asks the man if he wants to get well. That sets off the excuses.
Now, the man may feel the question is too obvious to deserve an answer. Anyway, we have no answer to the question, "Do you want to get well?" Instead of answering the question, the man puts up his defenses.
We may feel the question is inappropriate. Who wouldn't want to get well if we had been crippled all these years? But Jesus bluntly asks: "Do you want to get well?"
Jesus follows that question with a command: "Get up. Pick up that pallet you've been hanging on to all these years. Get up and walk."
And the man gets up! . . . and walks!
He's probably as amazed as everybody there. Everybody except Jesus. When Jesus sees the man get up and take his bed with him, Jesus steps back into the crowd. Attention has been diverted to the healed man, so Jesus slips away unnoticed.
The Gospel writer tells that this healing takes place on the Sabbath. This causes a stir because the strict observers of the traditional Sabbath would not permit healing on the day of rest. If you were able to heal someone, and if you did in fact heal on the Sabbath, that would be a form of work, and that would violate the commandments.
So the Jews said to the man who was cured, "It is the sabbath, it is not lawful for you to carry your pallet."
The staunch religious leaders are so hung up on rules, rules, rules, that they overlook the miracle which has occurred almost before their eyes.
When they tell the man he mustn't carry his pallet on Saturday, he tries for the second time to pass responsibility to someone else.
"Oh, but the man who healed me told me to pick up my bed and walk."
"Don't blame me. I'm just doing what the man told me."
Perhaps the religious leaders press the man to tell them who broke the law of the Sabbath by healing him. But he doesn't know. He must have convinced the religious leaders that he really doesn't know who healed him because they let him go.
Then, after a time, Jesus finds the man in the Temple. For the second time, Jesus speaks rather plainly. We might even say, bluntly, to the man.
This time, Jesus warns: "See, you are well! Sin no more, that nothing worse befall you."
In other words, You are healed. You're also forgiven. I have set you on a new path in more ways than one.
So, this is the second time Jesus tries to get the man to accept personal responsibility: first to stand on his feet physically, now to stand on his feet spiritually before God. Acknowledge God as the source of his healing.
But what does the healed man do?
He evades responsibility for the third time.
The cured man finds the Jewish leaders who got on to him about carrying his bed. When they asked him earlier about who healed him, the man didn't know. But, now that he knows, to keep on the good side of these men, he says, "I didn't heal myself, and it wasn't my idea to break the Sabbath by carrying my bed. That teacher Jesus healed me. It wasn't my fault."
Jesus sees this man and comes over to show his concern. Jesus asks the man, "Do you want to be healed?"
That may sound like a strange question. But when Jesus asks it, we hear the man's first excuse.
Actually, two excuses rolled into one:
First, the man says, "I don't have anyone to help me."
Then, he says, "When I try to get to water, someone always beats me there."
If only somebody would help me onto my feet when the angel troubles the waters.
If only I weren't this poor crippled man when the angel troubles the waters.
If only so many other people didn't get ahead of me when the angel troubles the waters.
If only. . . .
If only. . . .
If only. . . .
Jesus doesn't ask him about his circumstances. Jesus doesn't even acknowledge the crippled man's excuses. Jesus simply asks the man if he wants to get well. That sets off the excuses.
Now, the man may feel the question is too obvious to deserve an answer. Anyway, we have no answer to the question, "Do you want to get well?" Instead of answering the question, the man puts up his defenses.
We may feel the question is inappropriate. Who wouldn't want to get well if we had been crippled all these years? But Jesus bluntly asks: "Do you want to get well?"
Jesus follows that question with a command: "Get up. Pick up that pallet you've been hanging on to all these years. Get up and walk."
And the man gets up! . . . and walks!
He's probably as amazed as everybody there. Everybody except Jesus. When Jesus sees the man get up and take his bed with him, Jesus steps back into the crowd. Attention has been diverted to the healed man, so Jesus slips away unnoticed.
The Gospel writer tells that this healing takes place on the Sabbath. This causes a stir because the strict observers of the traditional Sabbath would not permit healing on the day of rest. If you were able to heal someone, and if you did in fact heal on the Sabbath, that would be a form of work, and that would violate the commandments.
So the Jews said to the man who was cured, "It is the sabbath, it is not lawful for you to carry your pallet."
The staunch religious leaders are so hung up on rules, rules, rules, that they overlook the miracle which has occurred almost before their eyes.
When they tell the man he mustn't carry his pallet on Saturday, he tries for the second time to pass responsibility to someone else.
"Oh, but the man who healed me told me to pick up my bed and walk."
"Don't blame me. I'm just doing what the man told me."
Perhaps the religious leaders press the man to tell them who broke the law of the Sabbath by healing him. But he doesn't know. He must have convinced the religious leaders that he really doesn't know who healed him because they let him go.
Then, after a time, Jesus finds the man in the Temple. For the second time, Jesus speaks rather plainly. We might even say, bluntly, to the man.
This time, Jesus warns: "See, you are well! Sin no more, that nothing worse befall you."
In other words, You are healed. You're also forgiven. I have set you on a new path in more ways than one.
So, this is the second time Jesus tries to get the man to accept personal responsibility: first to stand on his feet physically, now to stand on his feet spiritually before God. Acknowledge God as the source of his healing.
But what does the healed man do?
He evades responsibility for the third time.
The cured man finds the Jewish leaders who got on to him about carrying his bed. When they asked him earlier about who healed him, the man didn't know. But, now that he knows, to keep on the good side of these men, he says, "I didn't heal myself, and it wasn't my idea to break the Sabbath by carrying my bed. That teacher Jesus healed me. It wasn't my fault."
Still fearful to stand on his own, spiritually and legally. He has been dependent on others so long. He has
far to grow in his faith. . He still evades his responsibility.
At this point in the story, the crippled man, now the healed man, fades to the background. No indication that he ever takes responsibility. First, second, and always, when we see him, he is making excuses, refusing to be responsible for himself. Because he is so preoccupied with his own problems, he is probably unaware of the larger dynamic between Jesus and the religious leaders and the fact that his healing is a factor in the escalating trouble Jesus faces with the religious authorities.
Now, let's move forward with this concern about taking responsibility for our actions.
There was a play in New York some years ago about a group of men who had been high school basketball stars. Their team won the state championship, and team members and the coach meet each year to celebrate That Championship Season. In fact, that's the name of the play, That Championship Season. As the play unfolds, you realize these men all are frozen back in that time twenty years earlier when they were basketball stars. They are unable to face life in the present. They cannot accept their responsibilities for living constructive lives.
You say, That's just a play. Well, yes and no. It IS a play, but it isn't just a play. I saw the play in lower Manhattan, and I took a subway back uptown toward my hotel and wound up on the same train with one of the actors. He told me that, as they were working on the show, the playwright took the whole cast to his home area in Pennsylvania, which is a basketball capital. The cast went around to some taverns there in Pennsylvania. They heard middle-aged men, much like the men in the play, fussing and cussing each other out for dumb plays they had made on high school basketball teams. Men in real life blaming other people for things which haven't gone the way they think things should.
I've been giving mostly negative examples. But let's take a positive turn.
A man who attended a small school wrote about the daily chapel experience. This was a school for boys in the first six grades. The chapel was small and crowded. First graders sat on the very front rows, the second grade came next, and so on through grade five. But the chapel was too small for all the boys to sit down for the service. So the sixth graders had to stand up during chapel.
As he wrote about this experience years later, this alumnus saw a parable in the standing. For him, sixth grade was the time he first saw the necessity for standing on his own two feet before God.
This man refused to be like the crippled man in the Bible who passed his responsibilities over to other people. Forget about old Cotton-Eyed Joe.
Think how you can stand on your feet before God:
This may be physical, it may be intellectual, it may be emotional, it may be spiritual.
I remember a young man who enrolled in a night class I taught at what is now Anderson University. He had been out of high school a while and had an explanation or an excuse for why he wasn't in college. He was from a middle class family in which it was just expected that a son or daughter would go to college somewhere. . But this young man had a great fear of crowds. He didn't think he could sit in a room with thirty or forty other students and take notes or do things a professor might assign.
After a couple of years, though, he decided to give it a try. But he was like that crippled man by the pool who met Jesus. This young man had his defenses up, but he agreed to enroll in a night class because there wouldn't be a room full of people. There were only twelve to fifteen people in that class. Even so, this young man sat over near the door.
During a break in the first class, he came up to my desk and discussed this with me, explaining that he was more comfortable near the door, a row or two away from the rest of the class. That way, if things started closing in on him, he could slip out and go home. I told him that would be okay.
Just as the man in the Bible was probably timid the first step or two after Jesus told him to pick up his pallet and walk, this student was nervous the first class session or two. But he stuck with it and took additional night classes. Then I started seeing him on campus in the daytime. One day, he told me that he had overcome his fear of crowds and his dependence on his parents and others who had sheltered him.
In a few years, this young man got a degree from what was then Anderson College, and he is out in a career. Once he laid aside his worries and his excuses, he found he could walk into a room full of people and not feel threatened. He parted company with old Cotton-Eyed Joe.
More examples:
Our local YMCA attracts all sorts of people, young and old, fat and thin, healthy and otherwise---all of us trying to lay aside our excuses for the way we look, how much we weigh, and so on. I go to the Y early in the morning.
Some people at the Y get my attention every time I see them. One is a friend who has one natural leg. I usually walk in the heated pool. Sometimes, I walk the indoor track and this friend is up there. With his metal prosthetic leg, you can hear him coming way back behind you. I walk, he runs. So he passes me several times during my walk.
There's another man who was severely injured in a wreck. He's almost having to learn to walk all over again. And he has difficulty trying to talk. But he's at it regularly.
Both these men could make excuses and just stay away from the Y. But, neither one is willing to let his loss be a limitation. Unlike the man in our Bible passage, these men don't wait for someone to help them into the pool or wait for the angel to come down and trouble the water. They don't blame Cotton-Eyed Joe.
At this point in the story, the crippled man, now the healed man, fades to the background. No indication that he ever takes responsibility. First, second, and always, when we see him, he is making excuses, refusing to be responsible for himself. Because he is so preoccupied with his own problems, he is probably unaware of the larger dynamic between Jesus and the religious leaders and the fact that his healing is a factor in the escalating trouble Jesus faces with the religious authorities.
Now, let's move forward with this concern about taking responsibility for our actions.
There was a play in New York some years ago about a group of men who had been high school basketball stars. Their team won the state championship, and team members and the coach meet each year to celebrate That Championship Season. In fact, that's the name of the play, That Championship Season. As the play unfolds, you realize these men all are frozen back in that time twenty years earlier when they were basketball stars. They are unable to face life in the present. They cannot accept their responsibilities for living constructive lives.
You say, That's just a play. Well, yes and no. It IS a play, but it isn't just a play. I saw the play in lower Manhattan, and I took a subway back uptown toward my hotel and wound up on the same train with one of the actors. He told me that, as they were working on the show, the playwright took the whole cast to his home area in Pennsylvania, which is a basketball capital. The cast went around to some taverns there in Pennsylvania. They heard middle-aged men, much like the men in the play, fussing and cussing each other out for dumb plays they had made on high school basketball teams. Men in real life blaming other people for things which haven't gone the way they think things should.
I've been giving mostly negative examples. But let's take a positive turn.
A man who attended a small school wrote about the daily chapel experience. This was a school for boys in the first six grades. The chapel was small and crowded. First graders sat on the very front rows, the second grade came next, and so on through grade five. But the chapel was too small for all the boys to sit down for the service. So the sixth graders had to stand up during chapel.
As he wrote about this experience years later, this alumnus saw a parable in the standing. For him, sixth grade was the time he first saw the necessity for standing on his own two feet before God.
This man refused to be like the crippled man in the Bible who passed his responsibilities over to other people. Forget about old Cotton-Eyed Joe.
Think how you can stand on your feet before God:
This may be physical, it may be intellectual, it may be emotional, it may be spiritual.
I remember a young man who enrolled in a night class I taught at what is now Anderson University. He had been out of high school a while and had an explanation or an excuse for why he wasn't in college. He was from a middle class family in which it was just expected that a son or daughter would go to college somewhere. . But this young man had a great fear of crowds. He didn't think he could sit in a room with thirty or forty other students and take notes or do things a professor might assign.
After a couple of years, though, he decided to give it a try. But he was like that crippled man by the pool who met Jesus. This young man had his defenses up, but he agreed to enroll in a night class because there wouldn't be a room full of people. There were only twelve to fifteen people in that class. Even so, this young man sat over near the door.
During a break in the first class, he came up to my desk and discussed this with me, explaining that he was more comfortable near the door, a row or two away from the rest of the class. That way, if things started closing in on him, he could slip out and go home. I told him that would be okay.
Just as the man in the Bible was probably timid the first step or two after Jesus told him to pick up his pallet and walk, this student was nervous the first class session or two. But he stuck with it and took additional night classes. Then I started seeing him on campus in the daytime. One day, he told me that he had overcome his fear of crowds and his dependence on his parents and others who had sheltered him.
In a few years, this young man got a degree from what was then Anderson College, and he is out in a career. Once he laid aside his worries and his excuses, he found he could walk into a room full of people and not feel threatened. He parted company with old Cotton-Eyed Joe.
More examples:
Our local YMCA attracts all sorts of people, young and old, fat and thin, healthy and otherwise---all of us trying to lay aside our excuses for the way we look, how much we weigh, and so on. I go to the Y early in the morning.
Some people at the Y get my attention every time I see them. One is a friend who has one natural leg. I usually walk in the heated pool. Sometimes, I walk the indoor track and this friend is up there. With his metal prosthetic leg, you can hear him coming way back behind you. I walk, he runs. So he passes me several times during my walk.
There's another man who was severely injured in a wreck. He's almost having to learn to walk all over again. And he has difficulty trying to talk. But he's at it regularly.
Both these men could make excuses and just stay away from the Y. But, neither one is willing to let his loss be a limitation. Unlike the man in our Bible passage, these men don't wait for someone to help them into the pool or wait for the angel to come down and trouble the water. They don't blame Cotton-Eyed Joe.
We may make excuses for the crippled or crippling aspects of our spiritual life. It is possible to be physically or intellectually robust and be spiritually crippled. Yet, I almost hesitate to talk about the spiritual apart
from other dimensions because all aspects of life are intertwined. You are accountable to God. Every part of your
life has spiritual implications.
The Serenity Prayer, written by Reinhold Niebuhr, is widely used by Alcoholics Anonymous and others who want to quit making excuses. Here's what it says:
God, give us grace to accept with serenity the things that cannot be changed, Courage to change the things which should be changed,
And the wisdom to distinguish the one from the other.
Living one day at a time,
Enjoying one moment at a time,
Accepting hardship as a pathway to peace.
Taking, as Jesus did,
This sinful world as it is,
Not as I would have it.
Trusting that You will make all things right,
If I surrender to Your will,
So that I may be reasonably happy in this life
And supremely happy with You forever in the next. Amen.
(Reinhold Niebuhr, "Serenity Prayer," http://www.geocities.com/~spiritwalk/serenityprayer .htm)
One other story:
Back when Anderson was a textile town, I visited in the home of one of our church families. They hadn't been faithful. They'd quit coming to church. As we talked, the wife said, "Well, you know, it's hard for us to get to church with my husband working the third shift at the mill." That seemed logical to me. If he worked from eleven to seven, it would be rough coming to Sunday school at 9:30 and preaching at eleven. But without any prompting on my part, the woman looked kind of embarrassed. And she grinned and said, "Actually, my husband doesn't work the third shift any more. I was just making excuses." She quit acting like old Cotton-Eyed Joe.
The Serenity Prayer, written by Reinhold Niebuhr, is widely used by Alcoholics Anonymous and others who want to quit making excuses. Here's what it says:
God, give us grace to accept with serenity the things that cannot be changed, Courage to change the things which should be changed,
And the wisdom to distinguish the one from the other.
Living one day at a time,
Enjoying one moment at a time,
Accepting hardship as a pathway to peace.
Taking, as Jesus did,
This sinful world as it is,
Not as I would have it.
Trusting that You will make all things right,
If I surrender to Your will,
So that I may be reasonably happy in this life
And supremely happy with You forever in the next. Amen.
(Reinhold Niebuhr, "Serenity Prayer," http://www.geocities.com/~spiritwalk/serenityprayer .htm)
One other story:
Back when Anderson was a textile town, I visited in the home of one of our church families. They hadn't been faithful. They'd quit coming to church. As we talked, the wife said, "Well, you know, it's hard for us to get to church with my husband working the third shift at the mill." That seemed logical to me. If he worked from eleven to seven, it would be rough coming to Sunday school at 9:30 and preaching at eleven. But without any prompting on my part, the woman looked kind of embarrassed. And she grinned and said, "Actually, my husband doesn't work the third shift any more. I was just making excuses." She quit acting like old Cotton-Eyed Joe.
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