How to make a difference

 This morning, as I finished reading Psalm 121, a memory from some 65 years ago came vividly to mind:

“The Lord shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore.”

Back in 1960, my class at St Nicholas’ Blundellsands had been set to learn Psalm 121 by heart – that was the way things were done in those days. We made a strong start: “I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.” But towards the end we faltered – none of us could quite remember the closing verse.

Our teacher, Geoff Aspinall, solved the problem with a simple visual aid. He walked out of the classroom door and then came back in again. From that moment on, the verse lodged firmly in my memory. To this day, whenever I read this much-loved psalm, I picture him doing just that.

It’s a reminder of how teachers can plant seeds that last a lifetime, often in ways they never realise. A single action, a timely word, or a simple gesture can stay with us for decades and even shape the way we live out our faith.

Only yesterday I attended the funeral of another teacher who left a deep impression: George Thomson, our English master and form teacher at Waterloo Grammar School. I was privileged to take a small part in the service.

The congregation at the crematorium numbered about 40 – nearly all former pupils from the three schools where George taught. There were no family members present. George, as we used to say in those days, was a bachelor.

Amazingly, from my own class no less than 12 of us attended, some travelling a fair distance for the 10.00 am start. This alone demonstrates the profound effect he had on our lives.

One of our class recalled: “Above all I remember the way George cajoled us into reading some of the best literature of the 20th Century (up to then) by getting us all to lob half-a-crown into a kitty out of which he bought some thirty paperbacks for us to read and circulate."

For myself, even today, 60 years later, I feel mildly guilty if I do not have an “improving novel” on the go. For the record, I’ve just finished Marilynne Robinson’s Gilead.

We all want to make a difference – but how? I recall a conversation some years back with a colleague considering his future. For him it was a choice between having a relatively small influence on a lot of people or a big influence on a small number of people. For him I think it came down to being a bishop or a vicar, but the question works in all areas of life – in teaching, business, parenting, or simply in the friendships we sustain.

Jesus himself shows us both models. At times he addressed the crowds – thousands on a Galilean hillside, or a city gathered in Jerusalem. By any reckoning Jesus of Nazareth was a public figure, possibly a candidate for the 29AD Time Person of the Year! His words reached far and wide, stirring imaginations and changing lives.

But more often he invested deeply in just twelve ordinary men, and he did his best – usually spoiled by the crowd – to spend quality time with them. After some intensive ministry Jesus directs them: “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.” It’s just that 5000 people turn up at the same time.

And not just the Twelve. Jesus invested heavily in just three: Peter, James and John. They alone witnessed the raising of Jairus’ daughter, they alone saw Jesus transfigured, and it was these three who prayed (and fell asleep) with him in Gethsemane. Together, they were allowed closer than the rest to Jesus’ power, glory, and suffering.

So in the ministry of Jesus, his teaching to the multitudes sowed seeds widely, while his discipling of the few built roots deeply. Both were necessary, both were fruitful, but they required different rhythms of life and different costs of obedience.

And so we are faced with the same challenge in our own lives. Some are called to ministries that touch many, while others live out a quiet faithfulness within their family, among friends, or in a small group of colleagues or neighbours. Both can leave a profound and enduring mark.

Moreover a faithful ministry with a few may, over time, ripple out to touch a surprisingly large number. The key, as ever, is obedience over time – to keep showing up, to keep giving, to keep trusting.

The apostle Paul reflected on his own influence in Corinth: “I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God has been making it grow” (1 Corinthians 3:6). It is not the scale of our influence that matters but its faithfulness. A brief word spoken in Christ’s name can echo far beyond what we ever see. A life poured patiently into a handful of people can transform generations.

So whether your calling today is wide or narrow, public or hidden, trust that God can use you, even in your small corner. For the Lord who “preserves our going out and our coming in” is able to multiply even the smallest seed of influence – sometimes to the many, sometimes to the few – always for his glory.

So keep going, keep planting, keep trusting – and learn to leave the results in God’s hands. For in the end, it is his harvest, not ours.