"They are afraid of what is high." The world is divided into two types of people. People of excellence and people of mediocrity. We were all created by God to be persons of excellence, but many of us have allowed ourselves to be infected by a spirit of mediocrity. Some persons make a cult of mediocrity; they just want to be average persons. They have come to the conclusion that the happiest people in the world are those with average tastes, average attainments, and average ambitions. So they choose to live with their feet on the ground. "They are afraid of what is high." They have acrophobia.

Behind their choice lie several factors. One of them is the dread of loneliness. To depart from the average means that a person will be lonely. Most of us find it more comfortable to go along with; to be set in our ways; to do things the way we've always done them; to repeat the slogans and clichés of the average person; and to suppress the urge to climb a little higher. To be a person of excellence means to be part of a minority. Persons of excellence are far too few. To be a person of excellence means to stick your head above the crowd. And anyone who sticks their head above the crowd automatically becomes a target.

There is another reason for the fear of that which is high. Suppose we don't make it? Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall—Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. If only he had stayed on the ground, there would not have been such a mess. Many persons are held back from attempting excellence because of fear of failure.

Another reason why people fear heights is just plain laziness. We don't like anything that makes us stretch. Excellence has too severe a demand upon us, so the average has its appeal. One of the resistances against Christianity and the Church is that it aims high. It calls us to reach toward upper levels. There is always something beyond what we have attained. There is always a reaching beyond where we are.

I was talking with a person about coming to church, and they mentioned that they were bothered by the people who go to church and do not live up to those standards. Being upset, I said, "You don't understand at all. People who go to the church are not saying, 'Look how good I am or look how I have arrived'. Most of them are saying, 'I am not very good and I am trying to be better.’ And it is the church which helps me to strive to be better."

As persons who worship, we dare to be disturbed, upset, challenged, revived, even dare to be convicted. This is far better than sitting on the sidelines not wanting to be reminded of anything we cannot achieve or accomplish. So even in the realm of the spiritual, many people fear the heights. They fear because of failure. By their manner of life, they are saying, "Let me have standards I can meet. I want to feel comfortable and content. Don't show me anything better."

Someone was wondering why Judas betrayed Jesus. Probably no one will ever know for sure, but it is suggested that the answer is that Judas could not endure living day by day in the presence of such a good person. It's never easy to live with anybody. It's hard to live with the disagreeable, the temperamental, and the selfish. But it's even more difficult to live with a good, loving, and self-giving person. Particularly if their actions continuously condemn our own thoughts and standards. So it seems that in life we are always crucifying persons of excellence. To be a person of excellence means to be a criticized person, a lonely person, and perhaps even a crucified person.

When persons settle into the safe, tame routine of religion, they become so self-satisfied and so self-centered that even God cannot get at them. It is only those who are open to life, open to new ideas, new achievements, new conquests, and new challenges who experience most fully the presence of God who is ever bringing new things to pass. For any person who wants to be happy, successful, faithful, and productive, an upward look towards excellence is imperative. We must look up toward God, we must look up toward excellence. The way we look at life determines how we feel, how we perform, how well we get along with others, and how faithful we are to God.

Those people whose aim is always low generally hit what they shoot at; they aim for nothing and they hit it. But life need not be lived that way. I believe that one of the most powerful forces in the world is the will of those persons who believe in themselves, who dare to aim high, to go confidently after the things they want from life.

"I can" is a powerful sentence. People can do what they believe they can do. The gap between what a person thinks they can do and what is actually possible for them is very, very small. But first they must believe they can.

If you believe you can, then you can. If you believe you cannot, then you won't be able. Everything we do, from the most simple acts to the most complex tasks, requires that we believe in ourselves and our abilities to perform. Before we can get out of bed or lift a fork or speak a word, before we can learn a lesson or drive a car, or quit a habit, we must first believe that we can. And if we don't have strength ourselves, then we must have enough faith to believe in God and in the power of Christ to help us do what we believe we cannot do for and by ourselves.

One poet puts it this way!

Have you ever noticed how frequently things turn out badly when you expect them to? It seems to me that when I expect something bad to happen, I am never disappointed. If I wait long enough, eventually things will turn out as badly as I had feared. But I have noticed that the same principle works in reverse: if I expect good things to happen, they usually do. Life tends to respond to our outlook, to shape itself to our expectations.

Now, there is enough good and bad in everyone's life, enough sorrow and happiness, enough joy and pain, that any one of us can find ample excuse to look up or to look down, to laugh or to cry, to see the world as a blessing or to see it as a curse. As people of faith, we need to choose to accentuate the positive and eliminate the negative. My prayer is that God will give us a positive character, with a positive faith, positive opinions, and positive actions, rather than a negative character with a doubting faith, wavering opinions, undecided actions, and faintness of heart. Our theme song of faith should be:

Living from day to day we need to be reminded that with God, all things are possible. With God we can. There is no substitute for a determined belief that hard work and effort will always pay off. We must keep on keeping on. We must take the peaks and the valleys in stride and roll on toward our goal. Don't let the odds that are against you or the obstacles that fall in your path dissuade you. Persist! Go on! You can do it! With God we can accomplish whatever it is we want to accomplish. With God, we can be persons of excellence.

In closing, let me share with you this children's story which has profound meaning for us.

"The Little Engine That Could"

Chug, Chug, Chug, Puff, Puff, Puff, Ding-Dong, Ding-Dong. The little train rumbled over the tracks. She was a happy little train, for she had a jolly load to carry. Her cars were filled full of good things for boys and girls. The little train was carrying all these wonderful things to the good little boys and girls on the other side of the mountain. She puffed along merrily. Then all of a sudden she stopped with a jerk. She simply could not go another inch. She tried and she tried, but her wheels would not turn.

What were all those good little boys and girls on the other side of the mountain going to do? "Here comes a shiny new engine", said the funny little clown, "Let's ask him to help us. Please shiny new engine, won't you please pull our train over the mountain?" But the shiny new engine snorted, "I, pull you? I am a passenger train. I have just carried a fine big train over the mountain with more cars then you ever dreamed of. I, pull you? Indeed not!" And off he steamed. How sad the little train and all the dolls and toys felt. Then the clown called out, "The passenger train is not the only train in the world. Here comes another big strong one, let's ask him to help us. Please big engine, won't you help us?" But the big strong engine bellowed, "I'm a freight engine. I am a very important engine. I won't pull the likes of you." And the freight engine puffed off.

"Cheer up", cried the toy clown, "Here comes another. He looks very old and tired, but our train is so little, perhaps he can help us." But the Rusty Old Engine sighed, "I am so tired. I must rest my weary wheels. I cannot pull even so little a train as yours over the mountain. I can not! I can not! I can not!"

Then indeed the little train was very, very sad, and the dolls and toys were ready to cry. But the clown called out, "Here is another engine, a blue one, a very little one, but maybe she will help us." The very little blue engine came chug, chugging merrily along. "Oh little blue engine, will you pull us over the mountain? Please, please help us." "I'm not very big," said the little blue engine, "they use me only for switching trains in the yard. I have never been over the mountain." But the little blue engine looked up and saw the tears in the doll's eyes and thought of the good little boys and girls on the other side of the mountain and then said, "I think I can. I think I can. I think I can." And she hitched herself to the little train and tugged and pulled and pulled and tugged. Puff, Puff, Chug, Chug, went the little blue engine. I think I can, I think I can, I think I can, I think I can, I think I can, I think I can. Up, up, up, faster and faster and faster the little engine climbed, until at last they reached the top of the mountain.

"Hurray, hurray", cried the clown and all the toys, "hurray, hurray. The good little boys and girls will be so happy." And the little blue engine smiled and seemed to say as she puffed steadily down the mountain, "I thought I could, I thought I could, I though I could."

My friends, God calls us to be persons of excellence. Over and over, God reveals to us, I know you can, I know you can. You see, there is no need to have acrophobia, when we can have a sure faith in God. Fear says, I don't think I can, I'm afraid of that which is high. But faith in God says, with God on my side, I know I can, I know I can, I know I can!

One songwriter sums it up this way: "We are climbing Jacob's ladder. Every round goes higher, higher. And we must climb." We must be persons of excellence, for we are the sons and daughters of God. We must strive for that which is high. I know we can, I know we can, I know we can!

Lydia Talbot: A compelling, powerful message. It keeps on inspiring, Tallulah. I have a feeling that when you are talking about persons of excellence, striving for new heights, you’re talking about yourself.

Tallulah Fisher Williams: Yes, I am. It’s been a philosophy of life for me.

Talbot: Tell me about your journey. You told me about that earlier when you said it was tough.

Williams: Well, being a woman in ministry is difficult. Being an African-American woman in ministry is doubly difficult. In every church I’ve pastored, I’ve been the first woman to pastor there and the first black woman everywhere I’ve been. It’s no fun being a pioneer. The joy comes, though, in seeing the number of women that have been able to come behind me and to have an easier way than I had.

Talbot: Take us back now. You are Chicago born, graduated from North Central College, Garrett- Evangelical Seminary. What was it that motivated you to go on to become a minister?

Williams: It was the call—the call to the ministry which I received when I was about fifteen years old. It’s not something that I wanted to do. The story goes back to my childhood. When I was younger, the only thing that African-American girls could be were nurses and teachers. I didn’t want to be a nurse, so I decided that I would settle for teaching. I didn’t really want to do it, but that was the only option. Probably when I was twelve or thirteen, I realized I didn’t want to teach and had prayed to God to show me what it was that I was to do with my life. I didn’t know that there was this barrier for women in vocations. And the calling came that God wanted me to be a minister.

Talbot: Now that call has to convey something about the community of faith that you were growing up in. What was that church?

Williams: It was a local church that was growing. It was a new building and was very happy to receive young people. I began working in a youth group.

Talbot: Was it Methodist?

Williams: The United Methodist Church. Yes. And they nurtured me. They allowed me to be a leader in the church and they confirmed my call to the ministry.

Talbot: I have a feeling that your mother has been an important player, too, all along the way.

Williams: You know, when the calling first came, mom was my number one enemy. She knew what I didn’t know and that was that this was something that women were not supposed to do. So it was out of her love and her protection for me that she tried to dissuade me from the ministry. But now she’s my best friend. She’s my assistant pastor, so to speak. Every church I go to, she goes, too. I couldn’t do without her.

Talbot: You served Hartzell United Methodist Church and I think you said that you brought that congregation from hopelessness to a higher level of self-esteem. How did that happen?

Williams: It came through...I think that’s when I really understood the definition of ministry. With all the administration and all the other gifts that go along with it, there has to be first compassion and love for the people. And I think if people are loved, they feel compelled to follow leadership. They feel compelled to move upward, to not have the fear of heights, and not to have fear of themselves. And so by having the love and then setting the direction, I think we were able to accomplish that.

Talbot: And at the Trinity United Methodist Church in predominately white Mount Prospect, Illinois; talk about how you were able to break down the barriers of racism there.

Williams: Again, that love. It was quite a cultural shock going from the black church to the white church—different understandings of the role of pastor. But, I think, once we were able to see that we loved each other and we weren’t competing with each other, I was going to be there and they were open minded to accept me from the beginning. So once we were able to break the barrier of acceptance and overcome some of the cultural differences, the love came. It was probably more difficult for me than it was for them because of the culture. We call it, in the United Methodist Church, a cross-cultural, cross-racial appointment. Well, I understood cross-racial because one was black and one was white, but I didn’t really understand white culture and what I learned at that church was white culture. I learned how people think, how they have their values, how they develop those values. And then I was able to compare the two. I never forgot who I was in the midst of that and so as we were able to share and understand that and accept it. We just came together.

Talbot: Now you have overcome the "isms" in our culture and in the church—sexism, racism. What was some of that difficult confrontation with those systems that you had to break through? Any stories that stand out as being the hardest ones?

Williams: I wouldn’t say that I have overcome them because they are still in existence. I’ve just been able to continue on the journey in the midst of them. Probably the one that is most relevant or has greater meaning for me is one church that I went to that had said that they did not want a woman pastor. The question that one of the men of the committee asked me at that time said, "Now, we have a mayor who’s a woman, he have an alderperson who’s a woman, the school across the street has a woman. How do you expect to provide a positive image to our young black men?" Well, I knew I wanted to break the barrier and be at that church and had prayed for the right answer. My response was, "It’s true we have all these women, but I have something that they don’t have. I have you. The man that I can’t be, you can be." But then a few years later when I went to the next church, that same question was asked: How could I provide that positive image? Having grown and understood who I was and come through the fire, so to speak, I responded that people, black people especially, have moved beyond male and female and that I’m a person of excellence so I can provide an excellent image for a person. It doesn’t have to be male or female, but it’s to move forward as a people.

Talbot: And a role model for genuine, authentic leadership. Thank you so much, Rev. Williams. A joy to have you here.