The Sunday Sermonette —Mistakes.
Have you ever heard of Middleton, Mississippi? If you have, you’ve dug deep into the state’s history. In 1938, the Works Progress Administration stated that the only evidence of Middleton’s existence was a weed-and-vine-encrusted graveyard deep in the woods of Montgomery County. But once, it was a bustling town that gained a reputation as an educational and cultural center.
In the 1840s, Middleton was home to the Middleton Literary and Theological Institute, along with two esteemed private schools: The Judson Institute, a female academy, and The Peoples Academy, a boy’s school. The curriculums of these schools included classical languages, chemistry, mathematics, astronomy, history, and philosophy. The town boasted a stylish hotel, a carriage shop that created personalized vehicles, cotton and flour mills, a local newspaper, several law offices, fine mercantile stores, and many churches. The townspeople were so proud of their town that they nicknamed it The Athens of Mississippi.
Due to Middleton’s prosperity and commitment to education, it was considered by the State Legislature as one of the locations for a state university. Mississippi City and Brandon, as well as other towns, were too. However, Middleton’s short-cited local school officials persuaded its leaders and citizens that the university would harm local businesses and their own educational institutions. They voted down the university, which went to a less centrally located town, Oxford.
When the railroads came calling in the days before the Civil War, Middleton made another significant mistake. All over the state, railroads were being built as fast as ties could be laid and rails bolted to them. As the railroads ventured closer and closer to Middleton, its townspeople failed to see their value. They denied the railroads right-of-way through the town.
These two mistakes doomed the Athens of Mississippi. In a bit of irony, the good townsfolk had built a moat and a brick wall around the town graveyard to protect it from animals. But figuratively, they also built the same around the town, insulating it from the outside world and destroying its future.
Life is full of mistakes. They’ve been around since the days of the Old Testament. Adam and Eve made the mistake of eating an apple. Cain’s mistake was committing the Bible’s first murder. Jonah ran from God. He had time to think about his mistake while sloshing around in the tummy of a big fish. Sampson made the mistake of trusting the wrong people. Lot’s wife made the mistake of not listening to God and was turned into a pillar of salt. And King David made the mistake of lusting after Bathsheba, which led to the murder of her husband, Uriah the Hittite.
The Good Book is filled with real, everyday people who made mistakes. Some, like King David, learned from their mistakes and were blessed. Others, like Cain, didn’t and were cursed. Mistakes are an ever-present part of our everyday lives. We all make them. However, Father God can work in us despite our mistakes. He knows we are weak, not strong. Prone to wander and get into trouble. Thankfully, though, He works in us anyway. In fact, He works best through our weaknesses if we humble ourselves and admit our mistakes to Him instead of covering them up. It’s in our humility that we find His forgiveness and grace.
Due to its mistakes, by 1938, nothing was left of Middleton except a dry moat, a tumbling brick wall, and a few tottering gravestones. Let it not be said of you and me when we’re dead and gone that because of our mistakes—and our failure to admit them to Father God and ask for His forgiveness—there is nothing left of us except a dry legacy of tumbling failures and tottering, unforgiven mistakes.
Ponder this and go forth.