People Who Are Part of Us

 

People Who Are Part of Us

A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Randy K. Hammer, May 30, 2021

Romans 14:7-9; “All Souls,” by May Sarton 

At a high school graduation ceremony I once attended, before introducing the graduating class, the high school principal asked everyone in the audience to stand up who had in any way loved or nurtured one of the graduates.  Well, as you might imagine, practically everyone—several hundred, perhaps a couple of thousand, people—stood to their feet.  And the principal’s point was this: true to that African proverb, it does, indeed, take a village to raise a child.  Those graduating seniors were taking with them a part of every teacher who had ever taught them; every parent, grandparent, aunt, uncle, and so forth who had exerted any amount of positive influence upon their lives.  And the graduating seniors we recognized earlier will take a part of this congregation, a part of us, with them. 

Have you ever taken time to think about all the people who are so much a part of you—not only your relatives from whom you have descended--but also those friends, co-workers, and others like teachers, ministers, doctors, dentists, neighbors, and others?  It can sort of be mind-boggling.  Sometimes all of us need to be reminded that we are not self-made.  There are many others who have helped make us who we are and who are part of us.

I would like to share a bit of personal history with you to illustrate the point.  One of my personal gifts or skills and favorite hobbies is carpentry and woodworking.  Back in the days when I was doing it to earn a living, my specialty was furniture making.  I have always found carpentry and woodworking to be very therapeutic.  So it might not surprise you to learn that both of my grandfathers and their fathers before them were skilled carpenters.  On my mother’s side were furniture makers whose pieces of cherry furniture have become coveted and quite expensive antiques.  On my father’s side were carpenters who around the turn of the 20^th century built such edifices as the country store that is still standing at the community crossroads yet today.  That skill, that gift, that was part of my grandfathers and great-grandfathers, is now a part of me.

Also, I learned late in life that my great, great, great-grandfather Hammer was a preacher.  For most of my life I had not known that.  A few years ago, my brother, Tim, said to me, “There’s somewhere I want to take you.”  So on a Sunday afternoon, my brother, Mary Lou and I loaded up and drove about 20 miles to a log cabin standing outside Johnson City, built in 1793 by Isaac Hammer.  I learned that Isaac Hammer—my ancestor—was one of the first Quaker Brethren to migrate from Pennsylvania to Eastern Tennessee.  After arriving in Eastern Tennessee, he was called to be the pastor of a Church of the Brethren congregation.  I want to think that some of my great, great, great-grandfather's preaching ability and religious inclinations are now a part of me.  The stories of our ancestors become part of our family lore, and consequently part of us, and to some extent help shape us.

But, as I have alluded to, the people who are part of us need not be limited to blood kin.  I think of my first-grade teacher, Mrs. Trivett, one person who was not kinfolk but who had a tremendous impact upon my life.  Mrs. Trivett was already of retirement age when she taught both my brother and me.   In fact, she had taught our dad before us.  Mrs. Trivett was a sweet, grandmotherly type who would take you upon her lap during reading class and who would hold you close when you got homesick.  She was a devout Presbyterian who instilled within me some of the faith that I was to later possess.  Truly, Mrs. Trivett is as much a part of me as many of my own relatives are.  But the sad thing is, though I had many opportunities to do so, I never went back to Mrs. Trivett in my adult years to thank her for playing such an important role in my life.  She lived not more than three miles from my boyhood home.  And I passed by her house often.  I could have easily stopped by one afternoon to say, “Thank you for having a positive impact upon my life.”

And I could cite college writing professors and seminary preaching professors who, likewise, impacted my life and life’s work, and in one sense of the term became a part of me.

And, I am sure, you have your own stories that you could share about parents and grandparents, teachers and ministers, aunts and uncles, friends and others who helped make you the person you are, people who are so much a part of you today.  People who are part of us; have you ever stopped to think about it?

The Apostle Paul has noted that "We do not live to ourselves, and we do not die to ourselves" (Romans 14:7). We live in relation to others, and we live in relation to God. In fact, it just may be that living in relation to others IS the way that living in relation to God is actualized.  We are inter-related and interconnected in ways we could never hope to fully understand.  Or to put it another way, our lives are intricately intertwined with the lives of others in such a way that it would be almost impossible to completely untangle ourselves from others if we tried.  It might even be said that we don’t’ have an identity except in relationship with others.  We know who we are as we identify ourselves with other individuals and groups.  Being accepted by others, and feeling we are a part of others, is integral to who we are as humans.  In a way, who we are is wrapped up in the relationships and interactions we have with the world. 

The poet John Donne put this way: "No man is an island."  None of us is a solitary creature.  We are intimately connected to others in the stream of life.

And May Sarton, another poet whose poem, “All Souls,” we read earlier, phrased it this way:

Now the dead move through all of us still glowing,
Mother and child, lover and lover mated,
Are wound and bound together and enflowing.

……………………………………………..

. . . the lost human voices speak through us and blend

Our complex love, our mourning without end.

Such nice phrases: “Now the dead move through all of us still glowing,” and “the lost human voices speak through us.”  Rarely do we think about those who have influenced our lives now glowing through us and speaking through us.  But they do.  So many people are part of us, and we are part of them. 

So, on this Memorial Sunday and graduates’ recognition day, who are those loved ones, both living and dead, who are part of you today?  Who is it from your life history that glows through you and speaks through you today, as poet May Sarton put it?  Who is no longer with you for whom you might say a prayer of thanks?  And then, who is still living whom you might go to or write to in order to say, “thank you for the positive influence you have had on my life”?  Our lives are what they are because of those from our past who are part of us.  Amen.