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LIFE GIVING LOVE
Here is Ruth, a young widow, who chooses a life of singleness, not because she has no choice, but out of love for Naomi. She could have returned to her own people like Orpah, and would no doubt have been able to remarry and live a normal life, but she gave that up, for the time being at least, in order to care for a lonely, vulnerable person in desperate need of support.
You probably know people yourself who have shown, or are showing, that sort of covenant love in their own lives. We mustn’t underestimate the value of such life giving love in the greater scheme of things.
Remember what Jesus said in Matthew 10: "and whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple -- truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward."
SOURCE: Chris Appleby in "Ruth - A Woman of Character" on www.sermoncentral.com. Citation: Mat 10:42 NRSV.
“Time you old gypsy man,
Will you not stay,
Put up your caravan
Just for one day?
All things I’ll give you
Will you be my guest,
Bells for your jennet
Of silver the best,
Goldsmiths shall beat you
A golden ring.
Peacocks shall bow to
Little boys sing,
Oh, and sweet girls will
Festoon you with May.
Time you old gypsy,
Why hasten away?”
by Halph Hodgson
"The Hallmark" Many of us can t tell fourteen caret gold from eighteen carat. Sone of us can t even tell gold plate from solid gold. In old London town the jewelers of Goldsmith’s Hall took pride in doing good work, and they wanted each customer to know what he was buying. a So they devised a mark of quality, and its use became established by law. When a piece of gold was stamped with a little crown and the figure 18, everyone knew it was eighteen carat. "The mark of the hall" guaranteed it. b If we are true disciples of Jesus, He stamps upon us a mark of quality, a hallmark, a guarantee that we are genuine. "By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another
This is a true story, about a German artist named Albrecht Durer and one of his famous drawings, "The Praying Hands."
Durer’s Father was a goldsmith and apprenticed him in his early years to learn the family trade, but Durer loved painting and really wanted to be a painter. So his father finally gave in and agreed that he could go to Nuremberg to study art. Unfortunately though, his father wasn’t wealthy enough to support him, so he had to work as a labourer to support himself. The trouble was, this left him little time to work on his art. Now he had a friend, Franz Knigstein who was also a gifted artist and in the same boat, so they decided that they’d draw lots and one would support the other while he finished his studies and then he’d support the other out of his earnings as an artist. Well, they drew lots and Albrecht won. So Albrecht was able to devote himself to his art studies, but he agreed to support Franz after achieving success so his friend could finish his studies. Some years later Albrecht returned to find Franz so he could keep his end of the bargain. But when he got there he discovered what a sacrifice his friend had made for him.
You see as Franz had worked at his labour, his fingers had become twisted and stiff. His long, slender fingers and sensitive hands had been ruined for life. He could no longer manage the delicate brush strokes so necessary for executing fine paintings. But in spite of the price he had paid, Franz wasn’t bitter. He was happ...
THE DURER BROTHERS: NO ONE MAKES IT ALONE
Back in the fifteenth century, in a tiny village near Nuremberg, lived a family with eighteen children. Eighteen!
In order merely to keep food on the table for this big family, the father and head of the household, a goldsmith by profession, worked almost eighteen hours a day at his trade and any other paying chore he could find in the neighbourhood.
Despite their seemingly hopeless condition, two of Albrecht Durer the Elder’s children had a dream. They both wanted to pursue their talent for art, but they knew full well that their father would never be financially able to send either of them to Nuremberg to study at the Academy.
After many long discussions at night in their crowded bed, the two boys finally worked out a pact. They would toss a coin. The loser would go down into the nearby mines and, with his earnings, support his brother while he attended the academy. Then, when that brother who won the toss completed his studies, in four years, he would support the other brother at the academy, either with sales of his artwork or, if necessary, also by labouring in the mines.
They tossed a coin on a Sunday morning after church. Albrecht Durer won the toss and went off to Nuremberg.
Albert went down into the dangerous mines and, for the next four years, financed his brother, whose work at the academy was almost an immediate sensation. Albrecht’s etchings, his woodcuts, and his oils were far better than those of most of his professors, and by the time he graduated, he was beginning to earn considerable fees for his commissioned works.
When the young artist returned to his village, the Durer family held a festive dinner on their lawn to celebrate Albrecht’s triumphant homecoming. After a long and memorable meal, punctuated with music and laughter, Albrecht rose from his honoured position at the head of the table to drink a toast to his beloved brother for the years of sacrifice that had enabled Albrecht to fulfil his ambition. His closing words were, "And now, Albert, blessed brother of mine, now it is your turn. Now you can go to Nuremberg to pursue your dream, and I will take care of you."
All heads turned in eager expectation to the far end of the table where Albert sat, tears streaming down his pale face, shaking his lowered head from side to side while he sobbed and repeated, over and over, "No ...no ...no ...no."
Finally, Albert rose and wiped the tears from his cheeks. He glanced down the long table at the faces he loved, and then, holding his hands close to his right cheek, he said softly, "No, brother. I cannot go to Nuremberg. It is too late for me. Look ... look what four years in the mines have done to my hands! The bones in every finger have been smashed at least once, and lately I have been suffering from arthritis so badly in my right hand that I cannot even hold a glass to return your toast, much less make delicate lines on parchment or canvas with a pen or a brush. No, brother ... for me it is too late."
More than 450 years have passed. By now, Albrecht Durer’s hundreds of masterful portraits, pen and silver point sketches, water-colours, charcoals, woodcuts, and copper engravings hang in every great museum in the world, but the odds are great that you, like most people, are familiar with only one of Albrecht Durer’s works. More than merely being familiar with it, you very well may have a reproduction hanging in your home or office.
One day, to pay homage to Albert for all that he had sacrificed, Albrecht Durer painstakingly drew his brother’s abused hands with palms together and thin fingers stretched skyward. He called his powerful drawing simply "Hands," but the entire world almost immediately opened their hearts to his great masterpiece and renamed his tribute of love "The Praying Hands."
The next time you see a copy of that touching creation, take a second look. Let it be your reminder, if you still need one, that no one--no one--ever makes it alone!
(From a sermon by Philip Harrelson, Spiritual Ambition, 8/6/2010)
There is this common saying that all that glitters is not gold. There are many metals and stones that glitter but they are not all gold. Gold is precious to man and that explains why many people all over the world are seeking it.
In searching for gold therefore people usually come across its counterfeit, called charcoal pyrites. This mineral, more often than not is mistaken for the real gold.
Charcoal pyrites looks like gold and it is easier to find. It glitters just like gold and is usually found in the same region where there are gold deposits. Its discovery brings to the discoverer sudden but short-lived joy. It gives him a hope of becoming a multi- millionaire in a twinkling of an eye. He will suddenly become disillusioned when a goldsmith tells him he has not discovered gold but a fool’s gold.
"The Hallmark"
Many of us can t tell fourteen caret gold from eighteen carat. Sone of us can t even tell gold plate from solid gold. In old London town the jewelers of Goldsmith’s Hall took pride in doing good work, and they wanted each customer to know what he was buying. So they devised a mark of quality, and its use became established by law. When a piece of gold was stamped with a little crown and the figure 18, everyone knew it was eighteen carat. "The mark of the hall" guaranteed it.
If we are true disciples ...
Back in the fifteenth century, in a tiny village near Nuremberg, lived a family with eighteen children. To keep food on the table the father, a goldsmith by profession, worked almost eighteen hours a day at his trade and any other paying chore he could find in the neighborhood.
Despite their seemingly hopeless condition, two of the children had a dream. They both wanted to pursue their talent for art, but they knew full well that their father would never be financially able to send either of them to Nuremberg to study at the Academy.
After many discussions, the two boys finally worked out a pact. They would toss a coin. The loser would go down into the nearby mines and, with his earnings, support his brother while he attended the academy. Then, when that brother who won the toss completed his studies, he would support the other brother while he attended school.
They tossed a coin and Albrecht won the toss and went off to Nuremberg. Albert went down into the mines and, for the next four years, financed his brother, whose work at the academy was almost an immediate sensation. By the time he graduated, he was beginning to earn considerable fees for his commissioned works.
When he to his village, the family held a festive dinner to celebrate his triumphant homecoming. After the meal, Albrecht rose to drink a toast to his beloved brother for the years of sacrifice that had enabled Albrecht to fulfill his ambition. His closing words were, "And now, Albert, blessed brother of mine, it is your turn. Now you can go to Nuremberg to pursue your dream, and I will take care of you."
Albert rose and said softly, "No, brother. I cannot go to Nuremberg. It is too late for me. Look what four years in the mines have done to my hands! The bones in every finger have been smashed at least once, and lately I have been suffering from arthritis so badly in my right hand that I cannot even hold a glass to return your toast, much less make delicate lines with a pen or a brush. No, brother, for me it is too lat...
