Worth of a Soul -- Hope Chronicles 63

You never know what you will stumble upon on the Internet. Recently I came across an article that dealt with euthanasia for those who are dieing. But the article took it a step further. It proposed that the right to die be given to the elderly and then anyone who was infirm. Lastly, he added those with emotional difficulties. He said that that the deaths of those suffering with depression and attempted suicides and succeeded cost 25 million dollars a year on hospital bills, medication, autopsy, funeral expenses, . . . . Then the article goes on that these cost are counterbalanced by the economic gain of these deaths: no paying out of pensions, no continuing drain on the system, no more health care needed for these people.

It was a sobering thought because in the end, it was the worth of the person (defined by what they could give back to society) that determined their right to live. And in this case it was economics. What about what the person gives to her neighbor or the stray cat she took in?

I found this a few days ago. As I've thought about it, it has made me think of an old song by Wayne Watson called Touch of the Master's Hand. I'm not sure what brought it to mind.

It was battered and scarred
And the auctioneer thought it was hardly worth his time

To waste much time on the old violin

But he held it up with a smile

"Well, it sure ain't much, but it's all we got left

I guess we aught to sell it too

Oh, now who'll start the bid on this old violin

Just one more and we'll be through"

And then he cried, "One give me one dollar

Who'll make it two, only two dollars, who'll make it three?

Three dollar twice, now that's a good price

Now, whose gonna bid for me?

Raise up your hand now, don't wait any longer

The auction's about to end.

Whose got four, just one dollar more

To bid on this old violin."

The air was hot and the people stood around

The sun was setting low

From the back of the crowd

A gray haired man came forward

And picked up the bow

He wiped the dust from the old violin

And he tightened up the strings

Then he played out a melody pure and sweet

Sweeter than the angels sing

Then the music stopped

And the auctioneer in a voice that was quiet and low

He said "Now what am I bid on this old violin?"

Then he held it up with a bow

Then he cried out, "One give me one thousand

Who'll make it two?

Two only two thousand, who'll make it three?

Three thousand twice now that's a good price

Come on whose gonna bid for me?"

And the people cried out, "What made the change?

We don't understand."

The auctioneer said with a smile,

"It was the touch of the master's hand."

There's many a man
With his life out of tune, battered and scarred with sin
And he's auction cheap
To a thankless world, much like that old violin
The master comes
That old foolish crowd never understands
The worth of a soul and the change that is wrought
By one touch of the master's hand

I see myself as that old violin. I've been battered and I'm scarred. Some people who might look at my life and the amount to resources spent on me to help me deal with depression as a waste. But God says differently. There is no waste when God is present. God makes the battered and scarred things of this life beautiful.

Jesus would have died just for me. There is hope in that. Hopefully it makes me look at the battered person on the bus more kindly or the woman on welfare differently. I do not know their circumstances, but God does. I do not know the music of their lives, but God wants to make music in every one's life.