WILLIAM J. CARL III

In the summer of 1971, There were several very landmark events. Allen Pote came to be the new Minister of Music, Dr. Ball went on sabbatical for a month or two, and Bill Carl showed up to be the summer Intern pastor and work with the youth of Memorial Drive Presbyterian Church, in Houston Texas. The collaboration between Allen and Bill and one of the older youth, Mary Kyte, resulted in the production of a musical called CRESCENDO! which changed all our lives.

     At the end of the summer, Bill gave this sermon as his farewell address, making frequent references to "the musical," by which he meant CRESCENDO! Below find the sermon, and below that are the songs from CRESCENDO! composed by Bill and Allen, and performed during the performance by the Joyful Noise choir...before the Joyful Noise had ever been organised.

   This whole experience laid the foundation for the next several years in the life of the church. It certainly made an impression on all of the young people involved in the production. (..personally, Mom married one of the main actors , now deceased). Mary Kyte went on to work on Broadway. Bill Carl went on to become the president of Pittsburgh Theological Seminary, and Allen Pote has been well known as a composer of church music all over the world (Allen mentioned how rewarding to have his songs sung to him in Korean when he and Susan visited Korea). How wise of Dr. ball to throw this bunch into the cauldron and leave them alone to blossom in the joy of their youth and vital energy.

     How wonderful to have the three men together with the youth (now a bunch of lively middle aged people) at Mo Ranch in the summer of 2010! There is another reunion planned for five years hence. See y'all again in 2015!

     Mary is missing. If anyone has seen Mary Kyte, or knows of her accomplishments after her New york production, Please contact us.

BRIDGE OVER TROUBLED WATER

Sermon by

The VERY young seminary intern minister

Mr. William J. Carl III

(Now president of Pittsburgh Theological Seminary)

presented at

MEMORIAL DRIVE PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH

Houston, Texas August 8, 1971

Bridge Over Troubled Water
by
Mr. William J. Carl, III

          A father and his son lost communication a long time ago. A
     husband and his wife no longer understand the meaning of the
     commitment they made when they got married. A man sees a
     long-haired kid and mumbles under his breath, "That dirty piece
     of scum." A young college student throws a brick through a
     window and yells, "WE WANT PEACE!"

          Today everyone is talking about gaps. We've got the
     generation gaps, the communication gaps, the political gaps, the
     cultural gaps, the theological and philosophical gaps and all the
     other gaps. Everyone is speculating about what should be done.
     Whether it's NBC, CBS, ABC, or Paul Harvey, commentators
     everywhere are constantly giving their opinions on our sad state
     of affairs. Should we try this solution or that one? This theory or
     that? Nobody seems to be finding the right answer. So we
     continue to forge ahead aimlessly as a ship lost in troubled
     waters.

          The disciples found themselves in much the same situation.
     They had been following this fascinating miracle worker around
     all over the countryside listening to him talk about things they'd
     never heard of and watching him do things they'd never seen. The
     past two or three years had been a whirlwind of new experiences.
     They really didn't know what to make of it all and hoped someday
     they would understand.

          One experience in particular was puzzling to the disciples.
     Jesus had just fed the 5,000 and told the disciples to get into their
     boat and cross to the other side. After the crowds had left He went
     up into the hills to pray. What a strange man. Why had He sent
     them across to the other side? Wasn't He coming with them?
     What was he doing up there? They certainly were confused....
     Time elapsed. The sea was like glass. The sun melted into the
     horizon and darkness overshadowed the meager fisherman.

          There was something eery about the stillness that pervaded the
     sky. It made them all uneasy. Suddenly a bright flash and a loud
     crack splintered the stillness and the sky became a playground of
     lightening and thunder while the sea tossed the boat to and fro as
     if it were a small toy. The disciples were terrified. What would they
     do? Why had their master not come with them? Did He have to go
     to the hills to pray? And then to add to their terror they saw a ghost
     walking on the water. What would happen to them? It spoke,
     "Don't be afraid." And Peter, the bravest of them, called out, "Sir,
     if it's really you tell me to come over to you walking on the water."
     "All right come along." And he jumped over the side and walked
     out to him. But as he approached him he saw the storm and
     became frightened and began to sink. But Jesus took his hand,
     brought him out of the water and back to the boat.

          All of us at one time or another in our lives live in troubled
     water, and often we bring this troubled water upon ourselves.
     Sometimes we aren't satisfied with the way things are going. We
     want something bigger and better. We are concerned only with
     ourselves and the most important word in our vocabulary is me
     with a capital "M". A little boy comes running to his father and yells,
     "Daddy, Daddy!! The mule just kicked me!" The father exclaimed,
     "Why did he do that?", to which the boy replied, "I don't know. I
     was just trying to carve our initials on him." How many of us are
     constantly trying to carve our initials on the world and don't
     understand when suddenly the world kicks back?

          You know, having been a minister's son, when I was young, I
     used to think that nobody in the church had any problems. I
     suppose that one of the great revelations to me was this very fact.
     That church people have problems too. Everybody has 'em.
     There's not one person in this sanctuary who is without problems
     of one kind or another. Problems with friends, relatives, neighbors,
     jobs, housework, the kids, parents, mothers-in-law, and so in down
     the line. We've all got 'em.

          But moving from an individual and local perspective into the
     broader spectrum of the nation and the world, all you have to do is
     pick up the evening newspaper or watch the six o'clock news to
     see what kind of a mess this place is in. We've got all kinds of
     modern day Ecclesiastes and pessimistic prophets who see
     nothing but doom as our destiny. like Jeremiah, everyone is crying
     out violence and corruption! Does anyone at all see a glimmer of
     hope?

          A couple of fellows named Simon and Garfunkel demonstrate
     a bit of hope for the future in a song the Joyful Noise sang this
     morning.

                             When you're weary feeling small,
                             When tears are in your eyes I will dry them all;
                             I'm on your side when times get rough
                             And friends just can't be found
                             Like a bridge over troubled water
                             I will lay me down,
                             Like a bridge over troubled water
                             I will lay me down.

                             When you're down and out
                             When you're on the street
                             When evening falls so hard
                             I will comfort You.
                             When darkness comes
                             And pain is all around
                             Like a bridge over troubled water
                             I will lay me down,
                             Like a bridge over troubled water
                             I will lay me down.

          Powerful words . . .

          This summer in our youth programs, one of the main topics of
     discussion was people. And after a summer of sharing and living
     and playing and working and giving and helping each other, I think
     we have all realized how much people really need people--to
     listen, to understand, to comfort, and to help. The culmination of
     all this was the musical*.

     [ Web Master's note: *CRESCENDO! written by Allen Pote, Bill
     Carl, and Mary Kyte. Music from the musical will be posted below
     this sermon for those interested in remembering. ]

           You know, enduring friendship is indispensable to a really
     fulfilling life. You know I stopped to think last night as I was
     reflecting over the last two months here. . . I've met a lot of
     people. I've worked with a lot of people. I've been surprised by a
     bunch of kids. I've seen a lot of programs and parties. I've
     watched a lot of kids grow up and watched some adults grow up. .
     . And I stopped to think that after today this will all be over. And
     aside from some beautiful wedding gifts, all that I will have to
     show for it is my friends and the relationships that we've
     established here.

          You can think back in your own lives at times when you've
     spent a certain amount of time in a specific place. All you have
     left that's of any real lasting worth is your friends.

          But let's turn this around. True, we need other people but don't
     others need us too? How many times have we really been bridges
     over troubled waters for our brother and sister, our parents or
     children, our friends or strangers?

          How about as a church? This is its mission isn't it? To become
     a bridge over troubled water. We as Christians are called to be
     friends of all God's children, to love those we find it impossible to
     like.

          I'm reminded of the story told in first person of the man who
     dreamed one time of journeying to a metropolis--called the city of
     everywhere. I arrived early one morning. It was cold, there were
     flurries of snow on the ground and as I stepped from the train to
     the platform I noticed that the baggageman and the porter were
     warmly attired in heavy coats and gloves, but oddly enough they
     wore no shoes. My initial impulse was to ask the reason for this
     odd practice, but repressing it, I passed into the station and
     inquired the way to the hotel. My curiosity, however, was
     immediately enhanced by the discovery that no one in the station
     wore any shoes. Boarding the streetcar, I saw that my fellow
     travelers were likewise barefoot, and upon arriving at the hotel I
     found the bell hop, the clerk and the patrons of the place were all
     devoid of shoes. Unable to restrain myself any longer, I asked the
     ingratiating manager what the practice meant.

          "What practice?" he said.
          "Why," I said, pointing to his bare feet, "Why don't you wear
     any shoes in this town?"
          "Ah," he said, "that's just it. Why don't we?"
          "But what's the matter? Don't you believe in shoes?"
          "Believe in shoes, my friend? I should say we do. That is the
     first article of our creed, shoes. They are indispensable to the
     well-being of humanity. Such cuts, sores, suffering as shoes
     prevent! It is wonderful!"
          "Well, then, why don't you wear them?"
          "Ah," he said, "that's just it. Why don't we?"

          Though considerably nonplussed I checked in, secured my
     room and went directly to the coffeeshop and deliberately sat
     down by an amiable looking gentleman who likewise conformed
     to the conventions of his fellow citizens. He wore no shoes.
     Friendly enough, he suggested after we had eateen that we look
     about the city. The first thing we noticed upon emerging from the
     hotel was a huge brick structure of impressive proportions. To this
     he pointed with pride.

          "You see that? That is one of our outstanding shoe
     manufacturing establishments!"
          "A what?" I asked in amazement. "You mean that you make
     shoes there?"
          "Well, not exactly," he replied, a bit abashed, "we talk about
     making shoes there, and believe me, we have got one of the most
     brilliant young fellows you have ever heard. He talks most thrillingly
     and convincingly every week on this great subject of shoes. He has
     a most persuasive and appealing way. Just yesterday he moved
     the people profoundly with his exposition of the necessities of
     shoe-wearing. Many broke down and wept. It was really
     wonderful!"
          "But why don't they wear them?" said I, insistently.
          "Ah," said he, putting his hand upon my arm looking wistfully
     into my eyes, "that's just it. Why don't we?"

         Just then, as we turned down a side street, I saw through a
     cellar window a cobbler actually making a pair of shoes. Excusing
     myself from my friend, I burst into the little shop and asked the
     shoemaker how it happened that his shop was not overrun with
     customers. Said he, "Nobody wants my shoes. They just talk
     about them."

          "Give me the pairs you have ready," I said eagerly, and paid
     him thrice the amount he modestly asked. Hurriedly, I returned to
     my friend and offered them to him, saying, "Here my friend, some
     of these pairs will surely fit you. Take them. Put them on. They will
     save you untold suffering."

          But he looked embarrassed; in fact, he didn't know what to do.
     "Ah, thank you," said he, politely, "But you don't understand. It just
     isn't being done. The front families, well I . . .!"
          "But why don't you wear them?" I said, dumbfounded.
          "Ah," he said smiling with his accustomed ingratiating touch of
     practical wisdom, "That's just it. Why don't we?"

          And coming out of "The City of Everywhere" and into the city of
     "Here." Over and over that query rang in my ears: "Why don't we?
     Why don't we?"

          We as Christians are called to be friends of all God's children,
     to love those whom we find it impossible to like. At the church of
     Jesus Christ we are called to be bridges over troubled water.

          I think of the times before the musical [ CRESCENDO! ] when
     we were ready to go down and perform and Mary Kyte got the rest
     of the small cast and Allen [Pote] and me in a circle. I was
     expecting the traditional yell, "Break a leg!", but to my surprise we
     each had short sentence prayers around the circle. The gist of
     them went something like this: "God, help us to be a unified active
     group; please don't let any of us stand out, but help us to realize
     that the message of the musical is bigger than all of us."

          Likewise the message of the church is bigger than all of us.
     And this message is that we as a church are to be a bridge over
     troubled waters for others.

          But you know, in the final analysis, Jesus Christ is the supreme
     bridge over troubled water. Somehow in his life and through his
     death on the cross, he himself became the bridge, the means
     whereby the estranged have been accepted, forgiven, united with
     their former enemies. Somehow Jesus has made a bridge from
     meaninglessness to redemptive significance, friendship,
     forgiveness, and the assurance of an unbroken life. It's interesting
     to imagine that bystanders who heard the Roman soldiers
     hammering nails into that central cross on Golgotha long ago there
     heard being built a bridge of redemptive suffering, crossing over
     into hope and life eternal.

          I'm reminded of the story of the great channel swimmer who
     was swimming in the ocean with his two daughters who were both
     excellent swimmers themselves. They began swimming out into
     the ocean and were having such a good time they hadn't noticed
     how far they had gone. Suddenly the father noticed a great storm
     coming quickly. He realized that he wouldn't be able to get all
     three back to shore before it hit. So he turned to the older
     daughter and told her that he would take his younger daughter in
     quickly and come back for her. He told her to make sure to stay
     afloat because he would come back for her.

          So he swam to the shore as quickly as possible with the
     younger daughter. But as soon as they reached the shore the
     storm hit at its fullest so he ran up the shoreline and got the Coast
     Guard to go out and look for her. As the boat cut quickly through
     the high waves and the terrible storm, the men searched the sea
     for the girl. Suddenly they saw her! As they were pulling her in, one
     of the sailors said to her, "How did you ever manage to stay afloat
     in such a storm?" The young girl replied, "My Daddy told me to. He
     said he would come back." The father had become for the
     daughter a kind of bridge over troubled water. And so Christ, like
     the father has become for us a bridge over troubled water of time.
     For he has said that he shall return. I can almost hear him say:

                             When you're down and out
                             When you're on the street
                             When evening falls so hard
                             I will comfort You.
                             When darkness comes
                             And pain is all around
                             Like a bridge over troubled water
                             I will lay me down,
                             Like a bridge over troubled water
                             I will lay me down.

                                                          August 8, 1971
                                                          Memorial Drive Presbyterian
                                                          Houston, Texas

Here is the music from CRESCENDO !