Pastockwell's Blog

March 16

Psalm 51 Verse 5: And so you are justified when you speak and upright in your judgment.

Are any of  us willing to own up to our offenses? I find so many people in the public eye seem to be oblivious to how their words are hurting others. Most of the offensive language comes from politically oriented pundits who exclaim the rightness of their point of view and just how wrong the opposite view is. We have lost our sense of fairness and we do not dialogue as much as we should. What has happened to civility? We have so much for which to be grateful and should have little about which to complain. But humans are ingrained with self-serving attitudes which limit our true abilities. We have talents we sublimate purposefully because we do not want to appear egocentric. Or we push our talents to the forefront and boast. All we need to be is grateful, and sharing our abilities for the betterment of all of humanity. What happens to us will be our reward, justified in the eyes of God, but not necessarily what we want for ourselves. I pray for myself that God will be kind and my judgment will be upright in my mind.

March 15

Psalm 51 Verse 4: Against you only have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight.

I take some comfort in knowing I have sinned only against God. At the same time I realize that my actions against other humans are, in reality, sins against God. I am asked to love my neighbor as I want to be loved. So why are there days when I fail the challenge? I do not profess to understand anything of what this world and universe are all about. It is a majestic mystery which has been created for reasons only fathomable with lengthy study of scripture and prayerful contemplation of God’s plan for each of us. So I fail humanity and sin against God. I take comfort in the fact that I am forgiven my sin through Jesus Christ and His death upon the cross, a redemption for all of humanity whether any of us choose to accept it or not.

March 14

Psalm 51 Verse 3: For I know my transgression, and my sin is ever before me.

I like to believe I do know my transgressions, many of which I keep silently within my mind and heart. I try not to offend people, but in reality someone is probably upset with me for something I did or did not do. As I get older experience has taught me lessons, some hard to take, some painful, some economically costly. The lessons point out to me the necessity of loving my Lord with all of my heart, mind, and soul. The lessons direct me to love my neighbor as I would love myself. So how do we keep our sinful thoughts and actions under check, when we are abraded by people and want to seriously harm them? How does one love the unlovable? How does a person who is abused or tortured or ignored love a fellow human being inflicting the pain? There is a Native American saying: Walk a mile in another man’s moccasins before you criticize him. We would all be much better off if we did.

By the way, because yesterday was Sunday, I did not write for Lent. Sunday is not part of the Lenten discipline. Each Sunday is a remembrance of Easter.

March 12

Psalm 51 Verse 2: Wash me through and through from my wickedness and cleanse me from my sin.

This verse is a plea for help. We are all sinners in that we can hurt ourselves and others with words and actions. We do not have to recognize what we have done, but it still leaves a mark. I believe most of the human population is not evil. So we implore our God or deity or high spirit to clean out the impurity of our essence, to create in us a clean heart. When I watch the news and hear about the inhuman actions of a few boosting egos, vying for power, or opting for greed, against the best qualities that life offers us, I know we are wicked and sinful. I pray for myself and others to act with kindness, love, and understanding. We should be able to realize that none of us needs to be an enemy of anyone. None of us needs to destroy another person in order to promote our own name. No one should accumulate wealth just for the sake of being rich. So I ask and pray for my Lord and God to cleanse me of my sins and to wash my wickedness away.  I’m sure my father probably had a sermon about this and I will find it.

During the Ash Wednesday service we recite Psalm 51. For the next 18 days one verse will be published and commented on. Today is verse 1: Have mercy on me, O God, according to your loving-kindness; in your great compassion blot out my offenses.

Boy, sometimes I want my offenses blotted out. But even more important, how many of us are willing to forget offenses of others. Do we have compassion for those actions of people we care about who hurt us unintentionally? Do we forgive ourselves for the offenses we casually create against our friends and family members? So I ask anyone who reads this missive, please ask for mercy for your offenses, but have mercy for anyone who offends you.

March 10, 2011

I like being invited to parties and interacting with my friends and family. In Lent we are invited to contemplate. But what should a person think about, even if that person is not a believer? Well, it makes sense to me to wonder about the state into which we, as humans, have gotten ourselves. We fight over who is the strongest, best looking, richest, most influential, smartest, best educated, etc. The list could go on for a long time.

What follows is the reason for observance of Lent. Please read and think seriously about the invitation, even if you do not believe.

Dear People of God:

The first Christians observed with great devotion the days of our Lord’s passion and resurrection, and it became the custom of the Church to prepare for them by a season of penitence and fasting. This season of Lent provided a time in which converts to the faith were prepared for Holy Baptism. It was also a time when those who, because of notorious sins, had been separated from the body of the faithful were reconciled by penitence and forgiveness, and restored to the fellowship of the Church. Thereby, the whole congregation was put in mind of the message of pardon and absolution set forth in the Gospel of our Savior, and of the need which all Christians continually have to renew their repentance and faith.

I invite you, therefore, in the name of the Church, to the observance of a holy Lent, by self-examination and repentance; by prayer, fasting, and self-denial; and by reading and
meditating on God’s holy Word. And, to make a right beginning of repentance, and as a mark of our mortal nature, let us now kneel before the Lord, our maker and redeemer. 

Ash Wednesday begins the Lenten season for most Christian faiths around the world. I attended our church today and had the imposition of ashes on my forehead as a mark that I belong to Jesus Christ and to God. What does this mean to me? Well, the opening prayer in the Book of Common Prayer which is used by the Episcopal Church has a compelling argument for believing that a man willingly bore an excruciating death at the hands of his fellow citizens with the complicity of the Roman Empire. Here is the prayer:

Almighty and everlasting God, you hate nothing you have
made and forgive the sins of all who are penitent: Create and
make in us new and contrite hearts, that we, worthily
lamenting our sins and acknowledging our wretchedness,
may obtain of you, the God of all mercy, perfect remission
and forgiveness; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives
and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever
and ever.

My father had much to say in sermons about Lent and I will be publishing one soon. Today I am introducing my Lenten discipline for the next forty days. I am a retired teacher, and as such, I have traded in my disciplined life of planning and teaching and correcting papers for a much more laid back relaxed unfocused life. Believe me when I say that I enjoy what I am living now. I do miss interacting with my students. I loved them as though they were my own children.

With all of this ‘free’ time of living a carefree existence, I have relinquished discipline as a major influence in my life. That does not mean I have nothing to do. It simply means I get to choose when to do what I have to do. I have written a book. It has been read by people who have given critical feedback. Supposedly, it has merit and I therefore want to publish it. I am now in the process of doing so. But this takes discipline. A person who wants to get something done needs to be creative and assertive. That takes discipline. I have enjoyed these months of leisure, but the time has arrived for focus and discipline.

Lent provides a perfect opportunity to reestablish discipline in my life. So I will post each day my thoughts and ideas. I want to use my Book of Common Prayer as a guide since it has been guiding me for most of my life. I am a cradle Episcopalian being the son of a priest. I will post part of the Ash Wednesday service and comment about the words and the influence in my life these words have had. I may even offer advice about how we as humans can learn to better serve each other and improve our existence. I am not evangelizing as much as offering thoughtful prayer for anyone interested in finding God and finding a more loving, settled life. And during Lent, pray for me as I will pray for you, regardless of belief or religious tenet. We all live on this blue marble together. There is no other place for us as yet. So, let’s contemplate our existence and learn to love one another as we want to be loved.

What’s happened to us as a nation?

The past few weeks have contained elation for me because the Seattle Seahawks upset the apple cart by beating the New Orleans Saints and my WSU Cougars won both games against the Oregon schools and they beat the Huskies on Sunday. My wife and I returned from Leavenworth, Washington where we spent three days with our daughter and grandson. We travelled to Virginia to see our other daughter and another grandson.  However, this elation is tempered by the events in Arizona on that fateful Saturday morning and what has happened in Congress as we ‘debate’ partisan issues. At some point in our recent history we lost our sense of nation again. I think we are segregating ourselves into regional and economic, as well as, political groups.

Our country is the greatest place on earth to live. We have more opportunity for success in work, love, recreation, and ease of living. We can apply our skills and acumen for personal growth and success. We are better educated, more financially successful, and free to determine destinies than any other place on this blue marble. So what has happened to us? I think we are too into our own success. We have become ego-centric, greedy, power hungry manic depressive people who relish the idea that someone else is a failure. But we create our failures by name calling, mudslinging, and by shooting up a shopping center, killing 6, including a little girl, and wounding a Congressional representative. Historically, we have burned cities in riots, blown up a federal building, killing over 150 people. We have joined militia groups secretly and religious sects and faltered in our appreciation of differences. Why?

The idea of helping each other is no longer a priority for some. What has happened to our spirituality? Why are we blind to the needs of others, as well as our own needs? This country was founded with religious freedom. We can choose any concept of religion and not be stopped, although some question the choices. But that freedom of choice doesn’t mean we are not religious about how we decide things. Our country is a religious place. We simply seem to have lost our spiritual essence.

My father’s sermon speaks to the idea of our being sinners and blind, but like the blind man, may we now be able to see whereas once we were blind. We are sinners, but we do not have to be blind to the travesties of our society and our world. Let us build our faith in God and wrest from the Devil those devious intentions which misdirect us, keeping us blind.

Whether He be a sinner or no, I know not; one thing I know, whereas I was blind, now do I see.

John 9:25

This morning I want to talk with you about the miracle of Jesus’ healing the blind beggar in Jerusalem. I do it because it illustrates so well a deep insight about our spiritual life. I want you to think not so much about the actual miracle but about the story which lies behind the story. In the first place Jewish law said that no work was to be done the Sabbath. That included works of healing. Jesus had cured the blind man the Sabbath day and He was condemned as a sinner. Still He had the power to heal. It was baffling to neighbors, so they went to the blind beggar and asked him how he received his sight. He told them about a man named Jesus who had accomplished it. They asked who He was and where He was to be found. The blind man didn’t know. All he could say was that whereas he was blind, now did he see.

Next the Pharisees approached him and asked him how had been cured and by whom. He replied to them in the same manner. Whether the healer was a sinner or not because He healed on the Sabbath was no concern of his; who the man was didn’t worry him either; he could answer none of their question but he knew he was no longer blind.

Finally the Jews became skeptical and questioned the fact that he was congenitally blind. So they went to his parents and asked if it were true that he had been blind, and if so how it was that he was now able to see. The parents assured them that he had been born sightless and as to how he had been cured, they had better ask him themselves, the man was of age. So they called him to them again and questioned him. They couldn’t understand how a sinner could perform such a miracle. But this time the beggar was impatient. He repeated the story once more and they dismissed it by simply saying, I can’t answer any of your questions, I don’t know who Jesus is, I don’t know anything about the Sabbath or the laws, but one thing I do know and that is; “Whereas formerly I was blind now do I see.”

This thing hits very closely at the heart of the spiritual like. How many of us, if asked, could give reason for the faith which is within us? Aren’t we, as a matter of fact, fairly inarticulate when it comes to expressing in intelligent English the content of our faith? Many frankly admit, that while they believe, they can’t tell you why? Others will say that they can believe nothing which cannot be explained in a a rational manner. Others who profess to believe nothing at all say they would believe if they could have pointed out to them anything which is certain and sure about religious faith.

I admit that there are many things about religion which are most difficult to explain, yes, well-nigh impossible to explain – great religious truths which seem to escape definition. Only too often we say like the blind man, I see – but hoe it happened I know not. But one thing I do know, whereas I was blind now do I see. That is the essence of faith, it is seeing and believing. We can’t explain how Christ came into our lives, but we do know that since He came we see all things clearly, since He has touched our lives our spiritual blindness is healed.

But what things do we see; what things in the spiritual life are we sure of? What are the things we never can explain exactly, the things that convince us there is a God above us all, but which things we know only by sight?

We could go on to make a list of infinite length of things which bring us very close to the infinite goodness and power of an Almighty God, but to limit ourselves let think of just three or four. In the first place – we love. I am certain that if you were asked for a clear-cut definition of love you would have a mighty hard job producing it. And yet love is one of the most real things in the world. I am certain that no one could convince you that your love for a husband or wife or son or daughter was not a real thing.  And yet what is it? It is a certain thing about which there cannot or never could be any doubt whatsoever. Love it too real, too powerful, too far reaching, to be anything but an eternal certainty. Love of someone or something is in the heart of every living human creature. Love is the most powerful force the human being knows. Out of love is created genius. Out of pure love come the good and the true and the beautiful. One way or the other love molds and influences and to a large extent determines our loves, determines our destinies.

Love is at the very heart of the universe and at the very heart of the universe is God. This, for me at least, is tells us something about our faith. Just as we believe in love and can really explain it, so there are certain phases about the nature of our faith which we believe and yet can’t really explain why. If you love you have discovered the greatest religious truth of all, you can never explain it, but you know whereas before you loved you were blind, since you have loved, you see.

Another certainty of life which brings us closer to the Glory of God and establishes our faith is the sense of wonder. All of us have experiences a sense of wonder and of awe at the beautiful things of this world. Who has not watched the sun like a ball of fire sink into the west and paint the great ocean with an indescribable pattern of majestic hues a d not been struck with awe? Who has watched the ebb and flow of tides and not felt a sense of wonder grow deep within him? Yes, even all the simpler things in life. These things make us wonder, they are real, we know we experienced them, we know that something happens to that which we are pleased to call our soul, and we know we are experiencing something which is divine, something we call Beauty.

And not only does it come to us through mature but we humans are in awe of so many things that happen in our personal lives. Who has not had the experience of some great disappointment and are struck speechless, and almost like a child inarticulately wonder what could have happened to make things as they are. We all get lost and bewildered and mixed up sometimes as we find ourselves in the main stream of a complex life, and we stop and look around and wonder, just as a child lost from his parents – first he looks about and then his eyes grow bigger and his chin quivers a little and finally he begins to cry. Yes, we are in awe and wonder of many things in this world, but that very sense of wonder is one of the surest and most certain things we know. It leads us very close to God, and yet we cannot explain it any more than we can explain some of the tenets of our faith.

Another certainly which leads us very close to God and yet is so difficult to understand is prayer. How can you say with sincerity and meaning, “Our father who art in Heaven”, and not feel that you know the Father and have found the answer to your life? Prayer is a very real thing to Children I wonder why it isn’t so real to some of us when we grow older. Perhaps it is because we are not so sure of it, not quite as certain as we were once. And yet if we have had any genuine experience with prayer we know it, too, is real, just as real as love, wonder, and awe. Prayer, too, like wonder and love, just escapes definition. Why prayer helps us to see when we are blinded we cannot say, but we do know that it helps us to see. You and I know that through prayer we can find God, the lovely Father. How and why we cannot say and yet we are so certain of it that it is a very part of our lives. We know that whereas once we were blind, now through prayer, can we see.

With these three certainties you need never doubt your faith. Every day of your life, you are loving a little; not a day goes by that you are not wondering at things too great for you, and at some time every day you are consciously or unconsciously praying to your God. Never mind the Pharisees and the neighbors who ask you how these things can be; remember once you were blind and now you can see. You live in the promised hope that one day you will see all things clearly, much more clearly than you ever have before.

Let me close by giving you a poem that answers the question with which I am constantly confronted. How did you happen to go into the ministry?

“You ask me how I gave my heart to Christ.

I do not know.

There came a yearning for Him in my soul,

So long ago.

I found earth’s flowerets would fade and die:

I wept for something that would satisfy—

And then, and then, somehow I seemed to dare,

To life my broken heart to Him in Prayer.

I do not know; I cannot tell you how,

I only know that He is my savior now.

You ask me when I gave my heart to Christ.

I cannot tell.

It must have been when I was all alone—

The light of His forgiving spirit shone

Into my heart—all clouded over with sin.

I think, I think, ‘twas then I let Him in.

I do not know, I cannot tell you when—

I only know He is so dear since then.

You ask me where I gave my heart to Christ.

I cannot say.

The hour or just the place I do not now

Remember well.

Perhaps He thought it better I should not

Remember where.

How I should love that spot!

I think I could not tear myself away,

For I should want forever there to stay.

I do not know—I cannot tell you where.

I only know He came and Blessed me there.

You can ask me why I gave my heart to Christ.

I can reply.

It is a wondrous story. Listen and I’ll

Tell you why.

My heart was drawn at length

To seek His face.

I was alone; I had no resting place—

I heard of how He loved me with a love

Of depths so great, of height so far above

All human ken.

I longed such love to share

And sought it then

Upon my knees in prayer.

I knew He hung upon the Cross for me,

I nailed Him there;

I heard His dying cry, Father forgive;

I saw Him drink death’s cup that I might live;

My head bowed upon my breast in shame.

He called me, and in penitence I came,

He heard my prayer.

I cannot tell you how, or when, or where:

WHY, I have told you now,–

He drew me by His wondrous love.”

Rev. Norman Stockwell                 June 10, 1945 at Navy Chapel, Long Beach, CA; July 6, 1947, Moscow, ID and Palouse, WA; Oct 23, 1955 at Buhl  and Twin Falls, ID 

I guess the best thing about any new year is not the resolutions we might write and subsequently falter completing. The best thing about a new year is the fresh start we can offer to ourselves. I look forward to completing tasks left behind by the culmination of 365 days of procrastination and avoidance. I feel a new vitality and invigoration about what I can do and realize as days pass slowly by, that what I have reluctantly not accomplished can still be accomplished. I envision the efforts put into the tasks on my list of things to do. This is not a bucket list or a honey-do list. It is a list of my own creation. My own ideas for what needs to be accomplished. My own thoughts and goals and aims for a new year.

So what is it I want to finish which I have not done so far in my life? Well, that’s a great question. Let me tell you I really have nothing earth shaking or life changing which would qualify for a major report to Congress or the State Legislature. Those political views I believe are best for me and, of course, the entire population of our country are of little consequence compared to the personal goals established by a lifetime of trial and error.

I have written a book. I think it’s pretty good. Other readers of my manuscript have encouraged publication. So I have a goal. I retired as a teacher last summer at the end of the school year. Now I can putter around the house and fix or design and build things to improve our home. Another goal is defined. I have a grandson in Silverdale and one in Virginia. I see Haiden often, but Lucas is across the country. Now another goal is required. Sandy and I have friends in varying areas of the world. Traveling with her is fun and exciting so another goal can be established (as long as the money doesn’t run short).

I guess what I am saying is that each day, each week, each month, each year is a new opportunity to institute a new, better, improved, beneficial set of goals, short term and long term.

I have gathered the last of my father’s sermons from my mother’s house. She willingly turned them over to me because she cannot bear to see them or read them.  It has been over 26 years since my father died, but the memory of his ministry remains strong as ever. I need to explore the sermons in depth and place them in this blog regularly. Oh! Another goal has been born.

I am not attaching a sermon to this issue of my blog for I have not read through any of the sermons for the last few weeks. I will be unavailable for this task for a couple more weeks. But look forward to reading what my father created over his 43 year career as a priest. I will be posting them by the end of January.

Take care of yourself and your family, be kind to friends and strangers alike, and get to know people more deeply than we usually care to try. The world can be a better place when, as Jesus Christ admonished us to do, we treat people as we wish to be treated, regardless of how anyone really acts to toward us.

God bless and Happy New Year!

I missed last week’s posting because of a computer malfunction. I really felt like Dave in 2001 – A Space Odyssey since hal.dll crashed. Hal is a little file that allows the hardware to be accessed by the computer and one cannot boot the computer if it does not work. I reloaded the Windows software and reestablished all of the needed connections to my network and the internet. So now I am back on line and ready to preach via my father’s sermons.

Why go to church?

I am a product of my parents’ belief system. I am a cradle Episcopalian and feel strongly that I need to attend church each Sunday. I guess it mostly is a routine for me, but I also receive comfort and solace from listening to the lessons and Gospel message each week. I have learned through years of indoctrination that God does exist and that no one who declares faith in God is conservative or liberal politically. We are children of God and must take care of each other. So I go to church to reinforce my faith and atone for my sins of the week previous. I understand some people will guffaw at this, declaring my idiocy and naivety of how the world works. Well, I live in this world but I am not of this world. I have been taught to treat others as I wish them to treat me. I will continue with this ethos for the rest of my life. So read what my father preached about a man who had a weekly habit of his own which others found to be peculiar.

“The Only Day He Had”

They were all so amazed – so taken back, so completely astounded that no one said a word. They just looked at the man and wondered what had come over him. What sort of queer Homo Sapien could this male individual be to react in such a fashion? It was a new experience for all of them. The man was definitely peculiar.

Yet all he had done or said, however, was utter one short statement. He had replied to their urging: “This is the only day I have.” Then he left them with a kindly greeting, and wended his way to church.

The rest of the group started on their way to fulfill their plans for the day. They were going to the golf course. Or was it to the club to spend the day smoking and chatting with old friends? Or was it a business deal that was to be considered? Or were they wending their way to the lake to fish or to the fields for hunting? Or was it company at home to entertain? Well, it is inconsequential anyway, what these men were going to do with their day. Our thoughts now are with that rather peculiar man who made the very strange remark. He was going to worship God. It was the only day he had.

That statement was literally and absolutely true. Early Monday morning you could see him at the factory where he had a position, or in the fields, at mill, the bank, the store—it really makes little difference where. There he toiled on faithfully until Sunday. Every evening he was tired. Je occasionally went down to the lodge rooms or the club to talk with some of his friends. But usually fatigue united with chivalry and prompted him to spend the evening quietly with his wife, who, by the way, was also worn out because of the home cares and looking after the children. When he did have the energy to go out in the evening, his first thought was to see if he could not persuade his wife to go with him to the movies or to call upon some friends.

All week long his mind was on the duties of his work. He thought about shafts and pistons and cog-wheels and merchandise, and finance, and welding, or any similar thing that he had to look after. The hustle and bustle of his work was with him day after day. He had the usual difficulties in getting careful work from many of the hands employed there. Anxious problems were constantly before him in one form or another.

And now it was Sunday. He was going to Church. He told his friends that morning that this was the only day he had. And what was it that prompted him to this unusual determination?

Well, he was no different form the vast majority of men and women in this wild world of ours. The years had been crowding upon him, and he had spent many evenings in deep contemplation. He had thought about conscience, and God and eternity. He knew that bodily existence was not very many more years for him, now that he had reached his particular age. What about the hereafter? There was a question he could not put aside; it kept thrusting itself upon him week after week. He had pondered it carefully, and facing boldly the query of what was to be left for him when life was over he had reached at last a firm decision.

And that decision was this: he was going on Sundays to the house of Prayer. It was the only day he had.

He had a pretty clear idea of the benefits to be gained from the services of worship. He was going to get nearer to his God. He wanted to arouse into life and into activity the instincts of his immortal spirit. He knew how the full, busy routine of his job was benumbing these better qualities of his nature. He wanted to stir up his nobler impulses once a week, at least, by singing with the congregation the old familiar hymns of childhood when his heart was tender and plastic, when he had for others a sympathy and fellow interest, which business cares had begun to dull within his breast. He wanted to get back once more to what he felt was a lost quality of self within him. He felt, too, that it would do him good just to listen to the reading of the Bible lessons, just to look around the church and see the symbols of the Gospel faith. The very sight of the Altar and Chancel, he thought, would be something to his tired brain and elevating to his soul. All this would take him into a new atmosphere, so different from any surroundings that were his on week days. He had a mute feeling that it would do him just to breathe this churchly atmosphere for an hour or so on Sunday. He had half resolved that he would go forward to the Holy Communion at 8:00 that morning. He recalled how he used to do this side by side with his father and mother in former days which now were getting dim in his memory. He remembered the services for this sacrament; and somehow it had a hold on his heart. He recalled how in Sunday school days the Lord’s Supper was taught to be man’s “spiritual food and sustenance.” And he felt he needed some sustenance for his spirit, when this lasting part of his being was so neglected all week.

He was not so sure that the preaching would especially benefit him. The clergyman was not very gifted, so everyone said. But he was a good man. His face glowed with sincerity. And he determined that he might at least look up towards the chancel, feel something of the holiness that prevailed in this sacred place, and so be invigorated in his soul through the quietness of his own reflections. In fact, he did not go to church to hear a sermon. He went to worship God, to get nearer to inspirations that are holy and uplifting to the spirit. It was for something more than a mental stimulus or intellectual gratification that he drew nigh to the Sanctuary of the Divine. He knew he had a soul, and it was to feed and nourish and satisfy the inner longings of this eternal nature of his, that he wanted to be with the congregation, even if he did not remember a sentence spoken in the pulpit.

Then, too, he knew there was a God. He knew that God’s hand was upon the destinies and fortunes of this world, trying to guide humanity aright, and trying to make amends for the errors of man’s misused free-will. He felt he owed an obligation to his Heavenly father, — felt that his influence and his example ought to count on God’s side, and not against Him, in the keeping of His Holy Day.

He had, too, a sense of gratitude in his being. He felt he ought to be polite enough to his God to thank Him on Sunday for health and home and friends and all the many blessings he enjoyed. And for doing this in the Church, Sunday was all the day he had.

Was the man something of a fanatic in the stand he had taken? No one who knew him would ever have thought this of him. He was most companionable in his nature. He could jest and laugh and was well equipped with a fund of good stories to tell his friends. He whistled and smiled and tried to make things run smoothly when something went wrong on the job. After the service on Sunday, he was ready to go out for a walk with his family, or to take a ride in his automobile. On holidays he and his children had many a fine time picnicking, going to the lake, being the mountains, or many other diversions.

Indeed, he was no narrow-minded man of just one idea at a time. But he did determine on Sundays to cultivate and strengthen that part of his being which alone would be left when earth’s joys should grow dim and its glories pass away. And Sunday for this noble purpose was all the day he had.

When he uttered his peculiar statement that Sunday morning to his companions, it is not strange that they stood amazed and speechless and looked at him in wonderment. They had never heard that remark applied in that way before. They had all, many, many times, said that they were going to the lake because it was all the day they had. They were going hunting or fishing or motoring on the, the only day they had. They were going for a game of golf, Would work in the garden, would clean the house, sleep late, or this or that, and had excused their act by speaking of how they were tied down with duties all week long and this, poor souls, was the only day they had.

But this other man going to Church, — going to honor his Creator and thank Him for the manifold blessings he enjoyed. He was going where he could quicken the better impulse of his heart and so live a better life. He was going to strengthen and invigorate and prepare for eternity his immortal soul, — all that would remain of him in a few short years. He knew that the that the worship of the Church, its surroundings, the solemn stillness and reverence of the Holy Sanctuary, and all the impressive ritual would help him to this worthy end. He knew that he could in some measure feel, and breathe in, the beauty of holiness there.

And Sunday, for all of this, was the only day he had.

Reverend Norman Stockwell – Navy Chapel – June 24, 1945, Moscow, Idaho and Palouse, Washington – September 29, 1946, Palouse, Washington – May 30, 1949, Twin Falls ,Idaho – April 5, 1956