An elderly American and his family are visiting Normandy Cemetery in France. He is leaning over the grave of a soldier who had died just after D-Day, and he says to his wife, “Tell me I have led a good life.” She replies. “What?” “Tell me I’m a good man,” he says. She answers: “You are.” Many of you know this scene. It of course comes from the powerful 1998 war film, Saving Private Ryan.
(Look away now if you have not yet seen it, but want to.) A scene just prior to this showed the soldier, Private James Francis Ryan, leaning over dying Captain John Miller (played by Tom Hanks). He had spent the past week or so trying to locate and save Ryan and get him returned to America, because three of his brothers had already been killed in action.
With his final breath, the dying Captain tells Ryan: “James … earn this. Earn it.” It is a terrific and realistic film about what war is really like, and I have discussed it elsewhere, as in this piece: https://billmuehlenberg.com/2016/04/04/wartime-hollywood-gospel/
Many people wonder if their life really counts. Are they doing any good in the world? Have they made a difference being alive? And many Christians can wonder the same thing. I know I do so often. I can wonder if my life is worth all that much, and if I have achieved very much in this world.
As I told one friend who was feeling this way: ‘I too often despair of life. But I do not pray that my life will end now. Too many people and animals depend on me – as they do you – to think so selfishly. But I pray daily that Christ will return so that all the evil and suffering ends for us ALL. Until then, we have a job to do here on planet earth.’
Other films, books and television programs can also be mentioned here in this regard. One Foxtel channel is now showing old reruns of episodes of “The Twilight Zone”. Hosted by Rod Serling, the original series ran from 1959–1964.
I recall watching many of these as a child. Some of the episodes were really outstanding, and some we can now call classics. One that was quite good – and also contained an important message – was “The Changing of the Guard” that was aired in 1962 starring Donald Pleasence. It brings me to tears whenever I watch it. As with the above film, if you want to see it first, then skip the next 7 paragraphs!
It centres on an elderly English literature teacher at a boy’s prep school in Vermont, Professor Ellis Fowler. He had been teaching there for 51 years. While he sometimes despairs of the boys and their willingness and ability to take in what he is saying, he deeply loves and cares for them.
He fervently hopes that his passionate teaching will pay off, and that they will make a name for themselves and will do some real good in the world. But right before the Christmas break, he gets some terribly sad news: the school informs him that they want him to retire – they want a younger man to take his place.
Shellshocked and devastated, he goes back to his residence and starts wistfully reminiscing about his past students, looking at an old school yearbook. His housekeeper appears and informs him that dinner is almost ready. He apologises but says that he is not interested. He tells his housekeeper: “They all come and go like ghosts – faces, names, smiles, the funny things they said, or the sad things, or the poignant ones.”
Slamming shut the yearbook, he continues:
I gave them nothing! I gave them nothing at all! Poetry that left their minds the minute they themselves left. Aged slogans that were out of date when I taught them. Quotations dear to me that were meaningless to them. I was a failure, Mrs. Lounders, an abject, miserable failure. I walked from class to class an old relic, teaching by rote to unhearing ears, unwilling heads. I was an abject, dismal failure. I moved nobody. I motivated nobody. I left no imprint on anybody. Now, where do you suppose I ever got the idea that I was accomplishing anything?
The despondent professor wants to kill himself. So he later removes a pistol from his desk and goes outside into the snowy night to a statue of educator Horace Mann. On the statue are the words, “Be ashamed to die until you have won some victory for humanity.” Fowler says: “I have won no victory. Now, I am ashamed to die.”
He points the gun to his head and is about to pull the trigger, but just then he hears bells ringing – bells that call students to class. Puzzled and alarmed, he dashes to his classroom. Sitting at his desk in the cold room, all of a sudden a number of his former students appear – although now as grown men.
One by one they go up to the Professor and tell him their stories – about how he so powerfully impacted them. Some died as heroes in WWII, be it Pearl Harbor, New Guinea, or Iwo Jima. One soldier had a Congressional Medal of Honor awarded to him posthumously.
One got leukemia and died while researching radiation and its role in dealing with cancer. He quotes from an old hymn “I Would Be True” by Howard Arnold Walter that the Professor had taught the boys. He says he never forgot it and he recites the first lines:
I would be true, for there are those who trust me; I would be pure, for there are those who care; I would be strong, for there is much to suffer; I would be brave, for there is much to dare.
The students tell him all that he had instilled in them. “You taught me about courage” one student said. And they tell him how they learned about patriotism, loyalty, ethics and honesty from him. One quotes a line from a poem by John Donne: “Any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”
One student says, “We have to go back now Professor. But we wanted to let you know that we were grateful – that we were forever grateful – that each of us has in turn carried with him something that you gave him. We wanted to thank you Professor.”
The students disappear, and he sits there in tears, stunned, overwhelmed and amazed. He returns to his rooms, telling his concerned housekeeper, “I do believe I may have left my mark. … I have had a very good life. … This particular changing of the guard – I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Wow. There he was, despairing of life and on the verge of suicide. He had come to believe that he had wasted his life, and that he had no positive influence on others. How wrong he was. And the lessons for us should be obvious. We may not have folks coming back from the grave to tell us what an impact and influence we had on them. But one day we WILL find out just what our lives really meant.
I have also been a teacher and lecturer for a number of years. I often wonder if I did much good. As probably many teachers will know, we will never hear from the great majority of these former students. Once in a blue moon I might come across one, and he might say some kind words about remembering me and appreciating what I had taught.
But it will not be until the next life that I will discover the full extent of any impact for good that I might have had. All I can do now is try to faithfully carry on with the work I believe God has given me to do. And that now includes teaching by way of my website, various speaking engagements, and so on.
A quick secondary lesson can also be mentioned here. Like Professor Fowler, often older folks are pushed out into the pasture. Whether pastors, or teachers or what have you, too often in Christian circles having young, hip and popular folks doing the ministry is preferred to running with older guys.
I recall one older Christian leader in a big parachurch group bemoaning the fact that he is having less and less of a role to play. Older Christians tend to get easily displaced by younger ones, and all the maturity, experience, and wisdom of the elderly can often be ignored and overlooked. That really should not be happening in the Christian world.
So – the main moral of the story: Keep doing what you are doing. If God is in it, it will bear fruit and it will be doing much good for the Kingdom. We may not see all that fruit right now, but we must remember the old truth that we are not called to be successful, we are only called to be faithful. So hang in there and keep on keeping on.
As sometimes happens, around halfway through writing this piece, I started to wonder if I already had done an article on this episode of The Twilight Zone. So I looked it up, and sure enough: I had: https://billmuehlenberg.com/2024/12/18/on-having-an-influence-2/
Hey, great minds think alike! Oh well, this is sufficiently different from the first one. And taken together they make the case that I wanted to make. Old spiritual truths can never be repeated too often. We must persevere, and leave the results up to God.
Your second last paragraph is unfortunately true. Ageism is a factor in many churches as older people have experiences that cause them to be less prone to following dictates that have been shown to fail.
Indeed your statement “ We may not see all that fruit right now, but we must remember the old truth that we are not called to be successful, we are only called to be faithful.” is very true.
Very timely Bill. Thanks…..again !
Many thanks Rick.
Your second last paragraph is unfortunately true. Ageism is a factor in many churches as older people have experiences that cause them to be less prone to following dictates that have been shown to fail.
Indeed your statement “ We may not see all that fruit right now, but we must remember the old truth that we are not called to be successful, we are only called to be faithful.” is very true.
Thanks Bryan.