This is the sermon I gave on May 5, 2013, to which some have responded favorably.
Called to
Transformation
Rev. Tom Sorenson,
Pastor
May 5, 2013
Scripture: Acts 16:9-15;
Revelation 21:10, 22-26, 22:1-5
Let us pray: May the words of my mouth and the meditations
of all of our hearts be acceptable in your sight O God, our strength and our
redeemer. Amen.
Some of you already know this
from Facebook, but last Sunday after we got back from Wenatchee, Jane and I got
a dog. He’s a new dog to us although
he’s almost eight years old. He lived
right around the corner from the church, and he needed a new home. He wasn’t being abused or neglected by the
woman who owned him, who was also his breeder; but she couldn’t keep him and
needed to find a good place for him. I
got to talking to her a couple of weeks ago as I was walking up to 7-11 to get
something to drink, and Jane and I ended up adopting the dog. Some of you have seen his picture on
Facebook. He’s a Pembroke Welsh
Corgi—that’s the kind without a tail.
His name is Ringo, because he has a ring of white fur around his
neck. He’s a sweetheart, and we’re delighted
to have him. Especially Jane, who’s the
world’s biggest dog sap—but that’s a story for another day.
Ringo probably doesn’t know it
yet, but he just landed in a bed of roses.
I don’t like to brag, but Jane and I are really good dog owners. We love dogs.
We know what they need, and we make sure our dog has it. We walk our dog at least twice a day. We make sure his diet is healthy. We take him to the vet regularly for checkups
and vaccinations and whenever something might be wrong. We pet him and play with him a lot. We’re even having our little back yard fenced
so Ringo can go outside by himself when he wants. Mostly, we love our dog. Ringo probably doesn’t know it yet, but his
world just got pretty much completely transformed for the better.
Ringo is experiencing
transformation into a world that will be really good for him, yet of course
he’s still a bit stressed by it all. He
knows he’s in a new place with new people, but he doesn’t know why. He’s a dog, and you can’t really explain those
things to a dog. So he’s still a bit
nervous, a bit edgy. He hasn’t really
settled into his new environment yet. He
doesn’t yet fully know our routines and patterns, and that makes him a bit
uneasy. The transformation that he’s
experiencing will be really good for him, but he’s resisting it a bit. Just a bit, not a lot; but he’s still
resisting it a little, and he’s still a little uncomfortable with it. That’s to be expected, and it will pass; but
for now Ringo is finding transformation a bit difficult.
Ringo’s a dog, but he’s not the
only creature who finds transformation difficult. We humans find transformation difficult too. We resist change. We resist renewal. In my line of work we call the phrase “We’ve
never done it that way before” the seven last words of a dying church, but
people in churches say it all the time because they don’t like change. Institutions like churches, and governments, and
just about every other kind of human institution, resist change, but so do we
individually. Psychologists tells us
that things like changes in primary relationships, changes of employment,
moving from one home to another or from one town to another, are among that
most stressful events in a human life.
They’re stressful because we don’t like change. We like things to stay the way they are. Of course, not all change is beneficial, but
we pretty much resist all change, even change that is beneficial. In other
words, we resist transformation. We find
change and even true transformation frightening. They make us nervous. They make us tense. So we resist them. Staying where we are is almost always more
comfortable for us than is any kind of change, any kind of transformation.
We resist transformation, and
that’s unfortunate. It’s unfortunate
especially for us Christians because the Gospel of Jesus Christ is nothing if
not a call to radical transformation. In
our Gospels Jesus more than anything else calls us to transformation. He calls us to transform our hearts and
minds. He calls us to transform our
lives. Then he calls us to transform our
world. Jesus calls us to build the
Kingdom of God. He calls us to build it
from the inside out, starting with a transformation of our hearts and ending
with the Kingdom of God fully realized on earth. That is transformation writ large, and Jesus
calls us to do it.
In our two scripture readings
this morning we have images of transformation.
In our story from Acts Lydia is transformed. Her transformation is symbolized by her
baptism, which comes after she accepts Paul’s teaching about Jesus Christ. She brings the Apostle and his teaching into
her home and into her life. She is
transformed. Our reading from Revelation
is an even clearer picture of transformation.
It is a vision of a world living in immediate, direct relationship with
God and Jesus Christ. In what Revelation
calls the new Jerusalem there is no need, metaphorically speaking of course, of
sun, moon, or lamp because everyone lives in the light of God, so close is God
to all the people and all the nations.
Revelation gives us a vision of a world transformed from living apart
from God to a world living intimately with God.
If that transformation were ever really to happen, the world would be a
very different, a radically transformed, place indeed.
Jesus Christ calls us to
transformation. He calls us to live the
life of the Kingdom of God even now when that Kingdom is so incompletely
realized here on earth. He calls us to
live lives that reject violence, lift up the lowly, include the excluded, and
live in tight communion with God. He
calls us to live the life of the Kingdom of God as if God’s Kingdom were
already fully a reality among us. He
says the Kingdom is among us, and he
calls to live the way of the Kingdom rather than the ways of the world. In Christ we are in the world, but we are
called to be of the Kingdom. We are
called to a new way of being that turns the world’s ways of being completely on
their heads. We are, in other words,
called to radical transformation.
We are called to radical
transformation, and most of the time we say no.
Most of the time the thought of changing nearly everything about the way
we live is too uncomfortable. It is too
scary. We think we’d lose too much. Most of us here are pretty satisfied with our
lives the way they are. We’ve accepted
the way the world is. We support
candidates who take our country to war and spend nearly as much on the military
as the rest of the world put together.
We don’t want to pay taxes for social programs that benefit people we
don’t know. We consume at a higher level
than any other people in the world, eating up much more than our fair share of
the world’s resources. We like all of
those things. We don’t want to change
them. We so don’t want to change them
that we mostly don’t even hear Jesus’ call to us to change them. We think
he’s talking about how we get to heaven, not about how God wants us to live on
earth. He isn’t, or at least he isn’t
primarily. The Kingdom of God that he
proclaimed is not an earthly kingdom, but it is on the earth not in heaven; and
God calls us to the transformation that is necessary to make it an earthly
reality.
Ringo will get used to his new
home. I think he will be very happy in
his new home. It’ll take some time, but
he’ll get there. Will we ever get used
to the new home to which God calls us?
Will we ever truly become Kingdom people in the midst of the world? I’m afraid that’s a lot less likely than
Ringo coming to like living with Jane and me.
We humans are a lot more resistant to transformation than dogs are. We’re so good at thinking up all the reasons
why we can’t and don’t have to follow God’s call. What we think are reasons are however really
only excuses, and God’s call is still there.
It still pains God that we respond to it so weakly. We are called to transformation. Do we hear?
Will we follow? Amen.
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