The PRESIDENT SPEAKS
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| Sermon, Faculty & Staff Convocation, Silliman University Church, 20 June 2008
Suddenly, the earth shook and trembled. And a nearby hill opened up to reveal a deep cave inside. Awed, he rushed to it. And he saw that inside the cave were shining and glittering things. He went in and found that there inside the cave was a trove of treasures. Valuable gems. Gold, rubies, sapphire, diamonds. He could not believe what he saw. And so, drawn by the spell of treasures, he went in and started scooping as much of the glittering stones as he could. He stuffed them in his pockets, and clutched as much of them as his hands can carry. He thought of getting out and to pile them outside in the grass, then come back for more. But as soon as he started stepping out of the cave, a voice rang from inside the depths of the hill. “Don’t forget the most important thing!” said the voice. Looking around for what very precious thing he might have missed, he saw that he had the most valuable of them already. And so he rushed right out to pile his treasures in the grass outside and intended to rush back for more. As he moved toward the mouth of the cave, again the voice warned: “Don’t forget the most important thing!” This time, he didn’t as much pause to consider what the voice was warning him. He rushed out of the cave, laden with gems he had with him. As soon as he stepped out of the cave, the earth again shook and trembled. This time, the hill moved and closed the cave. It swallowed the rest of the treasures still inside. The farmer was dismayed. But he still had much of what he had brought out. He consoled himself that with what he already has he is still very rich beyond his wildest dreams. But, alas, the treasures he had brought out had all turned to dust. You see, in his fascination with the glittering gems, and in his rush to get as much of them as he can, he had forgotten to bring out the cave with him the flower that opened the hill in the first place. Amidst the glitter of things, the frenzy to have as much, he lost sight of the beautiful. He forgot the flower. He forgot and had lost sight of the essential. And so he lost everything. This story is almost like what we read in Job 28. This text in Job tells of humanity having acquired great and valuable things. They have treasure troves of knowledge and skills and of the power and prowess to do astounding feats. They can go to the deepest bosoms of the earth to mine precious metals. They can make food grow on the surface of the earth, when underneath is burning fire. They can stop rivers and redirect them to where they want them to go. And they have the knowledge to acquire things that even the most ferocious beasts are not able to touch. Humanity, says our text in Job, has much treasures of things, talents and technology. Indeed, today, it can tame the distance of space and the depths of the seas. It can build big and huge structures and bask in luxury that not even Solomon could have done. And yet, humanity continues to be a sorry lot. It cannot seem to get out of the rut of routine; out of viciousness and violence; out of frustrations and fears; and out of deceit and conceit. So many, everywhere, continues to be tormented by abuse and anger; by worries and wars; and maddened by desperate lusts for power, prominence and approbation. Life to most, it seems, is about one’s ability to pretend and to contend. Humanity has a lot, but it continues to lack, and to be gripped by the fear of not having enough. You see, says our text in Job, humanity has forgotten the most important thing, the essential. In its fanatical, single-minded and obsessive quest for what pleases the eyes, the body and pride, humanity has forgotten wisdom, the core of any person’s ability to appreciate, and, hence, to relish life. Knowledge is power, but wisdom is essential. Knowledge allows us to do things, and to do great things. But wisdom gives meaning – and so, value – to what we are able to do. It is like this: knowledge is like having the ability to build a house, even a great big house; but wisdom is what makes the house a home. Knowledge gives us power to stock our houses with many things, with the best there is. But it is wisdom that allows us to place value on peace, on quiet, on privacy and solitude, on love for each other, which are the essentials of a home. Wisdom, however, says many, is elusive. It is too nebulous to be readily defined, and so is not much to be made into something important. I submit not. Wisdom, says our text in Job, is simply “to fear the Lord.” Fear the Lord, and in that is wisdom. And what is it to fear the Lord? Is it like to fear vicious predators, or abusive spouses and mates, or like fearing enemies out to tear you to pieces? Is to fear the Lord like fearing ghosts or malignant diseases? I submit three simple propositions about how it is to fear the Lord: First, to fear the Lord is simply to recognize that everything is the Lord’s; that there is no mountain high enough as Moses’ Sinai, or waters deep enough as the Red Sea, or places far enough as Egypt was from Canaan in Joseph’s time, or pits more dangerous than the one with lions in Daniel’s case, no place or circumstance too fearsome or too delightful, where and when God cannot reveal His glory. To fear the Lord is to simply recognize that in even the depths of our sorrows and losses, or when we fall and stumble, or when we rise in victory, these are equal times that manifest God’s presence. Second, to fear the Lord is to simply recognize that His will and intentions always prevail over ours. In hubris and pride, we may many times think that we are the ones that control our affairs and our lives. But think again. How many more times do we need to see ourselves failing, see ourselves disappointed over unfulfilled desires and aims in life, before we realize that we really have no control over our present or on how we’ll turn out to be in the future? Fearing the Lord is to give credit where credit is due: God is a greater presence and a greater power in our world and in our lives, more than what and how we can make them to be. And third, to fear the Lord is to simply recognize that who we are (however much we think lowly or highly of ourselves) find ultimate and final value only in God. Our friends and family may many times make us feel important. Our colleagues may many times make us feel needed. But friends, family and colleagues could abandon us. In any moment, they could decide that we’re not any bit deserving of their love or attention. Worse, friends, colleagues, and even families, may turn to hate us. But not God. We are precious lambs in God’s sight. Even the worst of us (or even when we are at our worst), God loves us. And He cares. And He gives us value. A value equal to the life of His sonly Son. But, alas, in our quests for life’s gold, rubies, sapphires and diamonds; in our frenzied daily quests for attention and power, and to be persons that matter to all, or to be the best and have the best and the most; we forget the essential, we forget the beautiful flower in the fields of our lives. We forget to fear the Lord. We forget wisdom. We forget that we need not be maddened by our life quests. That even as we must strive to have some attention, have some power and have some things, we trust that in our strivings – in all our strivings and preoccupations in life – God is present, God is the future, and God is watching and caring over us, and placing value on our labor. Wisdom bestows meaning to our strivings. And with wisdom, our strivings become not lusts and vicious competitions, not frenzied amassing of the good things, not maddening quests to be ahead, but quiet manifestations of faith. With wisdom, with incessant fear of the Lord, our strivings become dignified. They acquire meaning. And they acquire dignity and integrity. Today, we come together to begin our new school year – aptly in church. Our first gathering this school year is to worship together in recognition of why we are in Silliman. Perhaps to some among us, this convocation is just one of those things, a mere ritual of tradition in Silliman. But we thank God that for many more of us, this convocation is a fear of the Lord. This convocation manifests our recognition that Silliman is not just a school, not just a mere employment, not just a business preoccupied with tuition, fees, salaries, and teaching. Silliman is a ministry, where God is a presence, and where God has a purpose. Silliman is so much bigger than any of us. Many of us may see Silliman by way of who we see in it, today: our students, our colleagues, the heads of offices, or who are the members of the Board. But many similar people in the past, who made up Silliman in their own times, are gone, and yet Silliman moved on. Many of us, too, will be gone sooner or later. But Silliman will continue. Indeed, Silliman have
had its heroes and giants. They did great things in Silliman. And they
truly deserve to be remembered and to be acknowledged for what they did. Let’s face facts: there is in Silliman a power beyond any of us. And recognizing that it is the Lord would be a fear of the Lord. It would be wisdom. This convocation could be a routine to some. But I pray that for this time, we make it a moment to regain our first love: our fear of the Lord. Let us recall how we had valued Silliman for its ministry in our lives, and for it’s being a ministry to our students and our community. Silliman, you see, is an apostolate of academic excellence, and we shall always remember that. Silliman’s greatness is not found in our own greatness and pride as individual persons. We have much to be proud of as competent professionals and scholars, and as a community that honestly struggles with its faults. Silliman’s greatness is founded on its humility, on its recognition that it is the Lord’s, and that it fears the Lord. • Silliman’s greatness is in its faithfulness to always recognize that everything in it, and in its traditions and purpose, is the Lord’s. It is a cathedral of God’s presence that all who come, remain, or go through it, must learn to walk in it with care and solemnity. • Silliman’s greatness is in its faithful recognition that when all is said and done, God’s will and intentions will ultimate prevail, and its momentum will always be driven by God’s grace – a grace that combines redemptive love with firm justice. All of us who serve in this university, know it or like it or not, are instruments of God’s grace. • Silliman’s greatness is in its faithful recognition that its ultimate value is in how it proclaims the Lord in its ministry of academic and scholastic excellence. At day’s end, Silliman’s faithfulness to its ministry – and its being able to live faithfully as an institution – is its fear of the Lord. And for as long as we not forget this fear, not forget the beauty of the essential like the flower in the farmer’s field, we are promised treasures and bountiful harvests of professional and career opportunities, of good scholarship and of good friendships, and of a fulfilling teaching ministry, that Silliman offers to all of us. Another school year is before us. Like the farmer’s field in our story, many young people await our ministry of excellent learning. But while learning is important, it is wisdom that is essential. The challenge before us at this time is to stand faithful, and to live faithfully. And this we can do by fearing the Lord, and in our teaching, to impart on our students the fear of the Lord. We place value on knowledge and on how knowledge is a treasure that empowers people. But we are not to forget “the most important thing”, the fear of the Lord, which is wisdom, which is the essential. We know what happens otherwise. When we lose that fear, when we lose the essential, as did the farmer losing the flower in our story, we lose meaning, and we lose everything. Let all of us then praise and fear the Lord. That by doing so, we remain faithful to our ministry of excellent education. By God’s grace,
amen. Other Speeches/Messages:
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