Christ Can Do It
Stories
Lectionary Tales for the Pulpit
Series V, Cycle C
Object:
I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. (vv. 19b-20)
Leonard LeSourd writes about the late, great, African-American tenor, Roland Hayes, who received enormous international recognition, as well as acclaim at home. The son of former slaves from Georgia, Hayes studied at Fisk University in Tennessee and then studied with private teachers in Boston and in Europe. The critics lauded his abilities, linguistic skills, and his performances in French, German, and Italian.
However, his first training came from singing spirituals in his church choir. He became a singer against his mother's wishes. She wanted him to become a minister, but Hayes never strayed from his spiritual roots. Before each concert, Roland Hayes would stand quietly in front of his audience, silently praying, "Lord, you are my strength. You are my voice. Help me get Roland Hayes out of the way so that you can sing through me, so that your music and words can touch the hearts of these people."
Hayes explained his reasoning by saying, "If I forget to say this prayer, then I tend to think of myself and how I'm doing. As a result the concerts just don't seem to have the same power and impact. What God does through me is so much greater than what I can do on my own."
Hayes told the story of the toughest audience he ever faced. He was in Germany before World War II at a time when racial hostility was rampant. When he appeared on the stage, some of the people started to boo and hiss because he was African-American.
Roland Hayes never hesitated or weakened. He closed his eyes, folded his hands, and silently prayed as he always did. This time, he also added, "Lord, you sing through me and melt this hatred."
The entire time, the crowd continued hissing. The quiet figure on the stage never moved. Finally, the huge hall was quiet. Then he began to sing very softly. For an hour and a half he sang, while the spectators sat there transfixed. At the end, the audience rose as a body and gave him a tremendous ovation.
Hayes said, "The glory goes to God. There's nothing he can't do through us if we would only get ourselves out of the way."
Hayes realized that he could do nothing against the persecution that he faced by himself. But the Christ that lived within him could. That was where his strength lay. He had given himself over to Christ so that Christ could be seen through him and heard through his singing. In his own way, he had become the minister that his mother wanted him to be.
(Leonard LeSourd, Strong Men, Weak Men [Grand Rapids, Michigan: Fleming H. Revell Co., 1990])
Leonard LeSourd writes about the late, great, African-American tenor, Roland Hayes, who received enormous international recognition, as well as acclaim at home. The son of former slaves from Georgia, Hayes studied at Fisk University in Tennessee and then studied with private teachers in Boston and in Europe. The critics lauded his abilities, linguistic skills, and his performances in French, German, and Italian.
However, his first training came from singing spirituals in his church choir. He became a singer against his mother's wishes. She wanted him to become a minister, but Hayes never strayed from his spiritual roots. Before each concert, Roland Hayes would stand quietly in front of his audience, silently praying, "Lord, you are my strength. You are my voice. Help me get Roland Hayes out of the way so that you can sing through me, so that your music and words can touch the hearts of these people."
Hayes explained his reasoning by saying, "If I forget to say this prayer, then I tend to think of myself and how I'm doing. As a result the concerts just don't seem to have the same power and impact. What God does through me is so much greater than what I can do on my own."
Hayes told the story of the toughest audience he ever faced. He was in Germany before World War II at a time when racial hostility was rampant. When he appeared on the stage, some of the people started to boo and hiss because he was African-American.
Roland Hayes never hesitated or weakened. He closed his eyes, folded his hands, and silently prayed as he always did. This time, he also added, "Lord, you sing through me and melt this hatred."
The entire time, the crowd continued hissing. The quiet figure on the stage never moved. Finally, the huge hall was quiet. Then he began to sing very softly. For an hour and a half he sang, while the spectators sat there transfixed. At the end, the audience rose as a body and gave him a tremendous ovation.
Hayes said, "The glory goes to God. There's nothing he can't do through us if we would only get ourselves out of the way."
Hayes realized that he could do nothing against the persecution that he faced by himself. But the Christ that lived within him could. That was where his strength lay. He had given himself over to Christ so that Christ could be seen through him and heard through his singing. In his own way, he had become the minister that his mother wanted him to be.
(Leonard LeSourd, Strong Men, Weak Men [Grand Rapids, Michigan: Fleming H. Revell Co., 1990])
