Transformed

This is the sermon I gave at First Congregational Church of Maltby on Pentecost Sunday, May 15, 2016.

Transformed!

A Pentecost Meditation

Rev. Dr. Tom Sorenson, Pastor

May 15, 2016

Scripture: Acts 2:1-21

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.

What happened to the first Christians that Pentecost day so long ago when the Holy Spirit came upon them? They were transformed, that’s what. They were changed in the very nature of their being. That’s what transformation is. It’s not just change. It is deep, radical, permanent change. Mere change can be undone, and it usually is. Mere change is superficial. Mere change changes appearances, it doesn’t change essences. Transformation is a change of a being’s essence, who that thing or person is in the core of its, his, or her being.

Look at what happened that first Christian Pentecost day. All of Jesus’s followers, not just the twelve but all of them, were together in one place. That aspect of the story tells us a lot about them, actually. At the time that this story is set Jesus has been crucified. He has risen from the grave. He has seen and talked with his disciples, and he has returned to God and is no longer with them. Yet his followers haven’t disbanded. That’s what usually happened in the Roman Empire when the authorities executed a popular movement’s leader. It’s what happened with the followers of John the Baptist after the Roman flunky King Herod executed him. It’s surely what Pilate thought would happen after he executed Jesus. It didn’t. They’re still together in this story that is set fifty days after Passover, which is fifty days after Jesus’ crucifixion. Their leader is gone, but they’re still together. They’re still together, and there aren’t very many of them. We know that because our story says that they were all together in one place. We’re not talking the Louisiana Superdome here. That place was presumably a house, or maybe only a room in a house, in Jerusalem. We may not be talking about more people than are here in worship with us today. Well, maybe a few more than that, but not many.

Acts doesn’t tell us much more about them. I think maybe we can assume that they really didn’t have a clue what to do. Yes, they had seen Jesus risen from the grave, and they’d seen him rise into heaven; but all he’d said to them before that happened was something enigmatic about them receiving the Holy Spirit and being his witnesses in the world. Awfully vague, don’t you think? I’m pretty sure they did. They were such a small group of people. The Romans had executed their leader, and for all they knew the Romans might be coming after them next. They were probably together to celebrate the Jewish holiday of Pentecost, but I imagine they were wondering what in heaven’s name they were supposed to do next.

Then it happened. The Holy Spirit came upon them like the blowing of a violent wind and like tongues of fire, and all of sudden they weren’t the same people that they had been before that happened. All of a sudden they knew how to talk to people who spoke many different languages. All of a sudden instead of being a small group holed up in some house they had attracted a crowd. All of a sudden instead of cowering inside that house they were out talking to the crowd. All of a sudden Peter is their leader and their spokesman. He’s out there quoting the prophet Joel to them about people receiving the Holy Spirit, seeing visions, dreaming dreams, and prophesying. It’s hard to imagine a more radical transformation in that little group of frightened people.

Yes, I think they were transformed not just changed. We see their transformation in what they did that Pentecost day, but that’s not all we know about them. We know that they went out into their world spreading the Gospel of Jesus Christ throughout the Roman Empire and probably even beyond the Roman Empire. That was odd. That was unique. That was dangerous, and many of them paid for their ministry with their lives. Going from a scared little bunch of perplexed people to being people who changed the world isn’t just a change. It’s a transformation. When the Holy Spirit came upon them they became the Church of Jesus Christ, and they were willing to lay down their lives for him if that’s what it took to spread his Gospel to people who so badly needed to hear it.

These people’s transformation gave rise to the Christian church. We are its direct descendants. Yet theirs isn’t the only transformation in the history of Christianity. The Christian church has been transformed many times throughout its history. It was transformed in the early years when it went from being a group of more or less isolated communities to a larger institution overseen by people called bishops. It was transformed, for better and for worse, when it became the established religion of the Roman Empire in the fourth century CE. It was revived by the Scholastics in the High Middle Ages. It, or at least part of it, was transformed by the Protestant Reformation. Transformation has always been part of the life of the church.

Folks, it still is. Today Christianity is undergoing another transformation. Just what it is transforming to isn’t entirely clear yet, but this much is clear: What has been no longer will be. The churches of Christianity as it has been since the Reformation are dying. We can even see that happening in our little church here. Not that I think we’ll die anytime soon or even that we necessarily must die, but look at us. This church has never been big, but it’s been at times considerably bigger than it is today. Old fashioned churches like this on just don’t draw many people today. I don’t like that reality any more than I suspect you do, which is to say not at all. We may not like it, but the signs are all around us. Mainline churches like this one are dying. Even the supposedly successful Evangelical community churches that have help up longer than the mainline churches have are beginning to lose membership. All of that tells us that the Christian church is in the midst of another transformation, for transformation always entails the death of what was.

When an institution like the church finds itself in the midst of a transformation that it didn’t want, didn’t ask for, and doesn’t like, it has basically two choices. It can be transformed, or it can die. It can discern the signs of the times, welcome them, and adapt to them, or it can pretend that nothing is going on or that things will just get better. Then it dies. That’s because change can be undone, but transformation can’t. Folks, I don’t much like saying it, and I’m pretty certain you don’t like hearing it, but here’s the truth. The First Congregational Church of Maltby can be transformed or it will die. Not today. Not tomorrow, But eventually, and not all that far off in the future. That’s just how it is with churches like ours today.

So what does the transformation that will keep us alive look like? I wish I knew. I wish I could just spoon feed you an adequate answer to that question. I can’t. I am convinced that the answer isn’t for us to become more conservative, for the conservative churches won’t survive. I don’t think the answer is as simple as adopting some of the fads of contemporary culture—projected hymn lyrics, repetitious praise music, simplified theology that challenges no one. No, none of that.

So what? Well, I have a few ideas of what some parts of a transformation might look like. It may mean updating the style of our music to something that appeals more to young people. It definitely includes a focus on mission outside these walls. It includes becoming inclusive of people the Christian church has typically excluded, for our culture is moving beyond old prejudices and old fears to a way of life that accepts everyone the way God created them to be. An exclusionary church will be a dying church. It includes being really intentional about being more than a social club. Not that I think that’s what you are, but many churches devolve into that. It includes being really intentional about following Jesus Christ not just as our ticket to heaven but as our model for how we are to live our lives here on earth. It means acting not with the purpose only of saving the church but with the purpose of truly being Christ’s witnesses in this time and place. That means being witnesses to the power of the life of faith. It means being prophets of peace through nonviolence for the whole world and justice for all of the world’s people. The transformation that is under way isn’t about simply conforming to the norms of our culture, for from Jesus’ time to ours Christianity properly understood has been radically countercultural. The transformation that is under way calls us to be more countercultural, not less, about the things that really matter, things like trust in God, care for God’s world, peace, and justice.

Overwhelming isn’t it? Yes it is, but times of transformation are never easy. A faith that follows a crucified Savior surely must know that God never promised us an easy path. Jesus’ yoke may be easy and his burden light as he said, but they’re easy and light only because God is with us when we bear them. God knows the path is steep and full of obstacles. Yet in Christ Jesus we know that God is always with us on that path. To pick us up when we fall. To bless our successes and forgive our failures. To be there at the end welcoming us to our eternal home with God. With trust that those things are true we can do it. We can do it, that is, if we’re willing. If we’re willing first to be changed, then to be truly transformed. Are you? Am I? I think our remaining time together will tell. May God be with us as we struggle with transformation. Amen.