That Day and This Day

A Day That Still Lives

Eighty-four years ago today, Hugo Schmidt was in his final year at the Naval Academy at Annapolis. He went to worship that morning in the Naval Academy Chapel as he did every Sunday, just as he did it every Sunday for the rest of his life, even when it meant watching it online from a hospital bed.

The preacher that day was Peter Marshall (1902-1949), the young, Scottish immigrant pastor of New York Avenue Presbyterian Church in Washington who became the nationally-known Chaplain of the Senate. I was eight years old when Marshall’s story became the Academy Award winning movie, A Man Called Peter. Seeing it was one of those early experiences that planted the seeds of my calling to be a preacher.

On his way to Annapolis that morning Marshall felt led to make a last minute change and preach on the text, “You do not even know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.” (James 4:14) He titled the sermon “Go Down, Death” and spoke very directly about the tenuous nature of life, the reality of death, and the promise of eternal life. (It’s still worth reading!)

No one in the chapel that day knew that while they were in worship, the Japanese were attacking Pearl Harbor. It was the last Chapel sermon some of those midshipmen would hear before serving in a war from which many of them would not return.  

He Never Forgot

Hugo never forgot Marshall’s sermon. After serving with distinction in the Navy, he returned to Tampa where he met the woman with whom he shared 70 years of marriage, built a successful business, raised a strong family, and became a leader in the community.  He chaired the Hillsborough County School Board during the integration of the public schools.  

No one loved his church more deeply or served more effectively than Hugo. Every pastor who served Hyde Park United Methodist was blessed by his wisdom, honesty, laughter and friendship. 

The Day That Is and the Day That Is to Come

I remembered Hugo as I lived with the lectionary texts for the 2nd Sunday in Advent.

Isaiah 11-12 repeats the phrase “on that day” to declare God’s relentless intention for this world. It includes the promise of “equity for those who suffer in the land.” The prophet sees that day when “They won’t harm or destroy anywhere on my holy mountain. The earth will surely be filled with the knowledge of the Lord, just as the water covers the sea.”

By contrast, the gospel reading opens with the words, “In those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness…” (Matthew 3:1)

We don’t need to be told that we are not living “in that day” of peace, justice, equity, and compassion. Just look at the headlines! We hold onto God’s vision of “that day” while we live “in those days.” The Advent scriptures remind us that to be prepared for the coming of the One who is the fulfillment of God’s vision for us, we need to hear the relentless hope and stern challenge of John the Baptist calling us from the wilderness.

“You children of snakes! Who warned you to escape from the angry judgment that is coming soon?  Produce fruit that shows you have changed your hearts and lives … I baptize with water those of you who have changed your hearts and lives. The one who is coming after me is stronger than I am. I’m not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire.  The shovel he uses to sift the wheat from the husks is in his hands. He will clean out his threshing area and bring the wheat into his barn. But he will burn the husks with a fire that can’t be put out.” (Matthew 3:7-12).

I usually imagine John’s voice in anger, but some Greek icons show him as being compassionate, deeply concerned for the welfare of the people, disappointed with how things are because he believed so deeply in what would come.

That’s clearly not the “good news of great joy” we put on Christmas cards and celebrate on Christmas Eve! But it is the word we need to hear as people who live in the day that is with our eyes fixed on the day that is to come.

The Hope and Joy

That brings me back to Hugo. One his gifts to my life and the life of the church was the way he honored the past, lived fully in the present, and kept his eye on the future. He helped lead the total renovation of the church property which was like using “a shovel to shift the wheat from the husks.” It included gutting the sanctuary in which he had been married and which he had helped renovate in the ’50’s. He never stopped thinking, growing and changing because he trusted so deeply in the future.  

When Hugo died at 98, we celebrated a life that demonstrated what Marshall preached in the Academy chapel that day. Hugo knew the tenuous nature of life and made the most of every day. C. S. Lewis could have been describing Hugo when he wrote, “The Christians who did most for the present world were just those who thought most of the next … Aim for Heaven and you will get earth ‘thrown in.’” (C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity, New York: Touchstone, 1996, p. 119)

Remembering this day eighty-four years ago can be the reminder that we “do not even know what tomorrow will bring.” But we do know that we can be among those people who make the most difference in the present because we aim for the future. The epistle reading for today Paul prays for us:

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. (Romans 15:13)

Grace and peace,

Jim

P.S. If you want a fresh experience of an old story, I encourage you to see Keith Cate’s performance of the original text of Charles Dickens “A Christmas Carol.” Merry Christmas and may God bless us all!