"Sure You Do"

Paul Harvey, in his commentary “The Rest of the Story," tells of a WWII military serviceman stationed in Europe.  He wanted to buy a present for his fiancée.'  He had limited income so he went to a pawnshop to see what he could buy.  Having no luck finding a diamond ring, he bought an amber bracelet for less than two hundred dollars. 

Through the years, the bracelet became a sentimental piece for the couple.  The man decided to do something special for an upcoming anniversary.  He thought it would be nice to have the bracelet restored.  The bracelet had a broken hook. 

He took it to a jeweler to which the jeweler asked if it was for sale.  The man said he wanted it repaired.  The hook broke again so the man took it to another jeweler who asked if it was for sale.  After a third trip to another jeweler, the man received the same query if the bracelet was for sale.  The man said, “Why?”  The jeweler said, “You do not know?”  The man gave him a magnifying glass and said read the inscription.  It was engraved, to Josephine from Napoleon.

While at the University of Montevallo, I took an art class.  Boy did I feel out of place!  I am not an artist when it concerns painting.  The class, the History of Art, was one of the criterions for the Bachelor of Art degree I was earning.  Tommy Karn, my Director of Missions at the time, suggested that if I was going to attend Seminary, that I should get a Liberal of Arts degree.  He said that I should get the degree in something that would aid me to be a bi-vocational pastor.  I elected history and English and my college advisor suggested that I take the History of Art classes. 

I was totally out of place in art.  Everyone and everything there seemed to be in the abstract and I am concrete.  I think being a concrete person had something to do with working at the cement plant. JUST KIDDING!  I felt out of place being a preacher in a class of future Picassos.  I found art history fascinating and learned how to love and appreciate art.

On one occasion, I went to an art exhibit at Bloch Hall, the art building.  Luke, an oriental art student, was the featured artist.  I was amazed at his artwork.  At first, I thought it was some kind of abstract paintings.  The colors were beautiful.  There were bright pinks, whites, blues, and so forth.  They appeared to make no sense.  Each one of the paintings had a title.  I looked at one entitled “Sailing Ship.”  I remember studying the work very carefully trying to see a ship.  It was not there I thought. 

As I looked at it for several minutes, I began to see this beautiful ship with gigantic sails, the ocean, and the clouds.  It was magnificent.  It was one of those paintings that you had to look, then back away, to see the real beauty. 

Now, understanding the style of painting Luke had on display, I went to another titled “Dragon.”  Again, the canvas had these brilliant colors of pink, yellow, and white boldly stroked and spread across it.  I could not wait to find the dragon so exquisitely positioned there.  Suddenly, there was this giant Chinese dragon prancing across the canvas. The artwork was special.  I had never seen such beauty in art.  Everyone in attendance that afternoon commented on the genius and talent of Luke.  Even the president of the University bought a painting that day.

Art History was not the only class I felt a little awkward.  Another was an English poetry class.  Poems have a way of soothing the soul.  David and other Psalmists of the Bible are reminders of the power of poetry.

In this particular class, we examined the poets, their works, and the poem interpretations. Simple poems are really complex and revealing the more that you dig.  One of the things that I lost in the house fire was my notes from this class.  I developed a deep appreciation for poetry and I have written several poems because of the class’s influence.

Having missed a very intriguing class one Friday, my Methodist preacher friend and fellow returning adult named Billy wanted me to share with him what he had missed.  The professor for the class was absence and had one of his secretaries in his place to have us do some busy work.  Billy and I decided that we would ask the secretary if we could go to the business lounge where I could “catch” Billy up on the interpretations of the poems.

I will never for get the look on her face and her answer.  The look was one of “I don’t believe a word you are saying” and the response was “sure you do.”  “You are trying to get out of class to talk about football.”

I guess Billy and I did look a little bit too much masculine and not dainty enough to be reading poetry.  She did let us go, but I do not think she was totally convinced.  Billy and I did make an “A” on the test regardless of what the secretary thought.

For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them (Ephesians 2:10, KJV).

The Greek word that Paul used for workmanship is poiema, the word we use for poem.  Bracelets, art, and poetry are creations of the artist.  What does that say about God and us?