Sermons

Beyond Change to Transformation
The Rev. Greg Jacobs
Lent 2
February 17, 2008

Genesis 12:1-8; John 3:1-17

Opening Prayer

In order to be truthful
We must do more than speak the truth.
We must also hear the truth.
We must also receive the truth.
We must also act upon truth.
We must also search for truth.
The difficult truth.
Within us and around us.
We must devote ourselves to truth.
Otherwise we are dishonest
And our lives are mistaken.
God grant us the strength and the courage
To be truthful. Amen.
—Michael Leunig, The Prayer Tree

A funny thing happened on my way to the Old Testament lesson. I stumbled upon the biblical narrative that has served as my Ebenezer—my rock of hope—since leaving Cleveland some two years ago.

You see, like Abram, I was comfortable here in Cleveland, everything here was so settled—there was a "rootedness" to my life.

• In Cleveland, there was a known language of communication (In Boston, I am still learning to say: "Pak yah cah in da yad");
• In Cleveland, there was my spatial knowledge of this place--and how to survive in it. (Confession: Until Bev bought me a GPS, I was totally lost in the wilds of Massachusetts);
• In Cleveland, there were friends, kith and kin that I had grown up with and had come to know and love; and
• In Cleveland, there was my reputation (good, bad or otherwise), painstakingly forged over many years.

And then God said: "Ha! Leave all that behind—the land of your father, your birthright, the life you have come to know—leave all that and journey to this new land that I will show you. And go forth to this place where you will discover strange people, and strange customs—like Red Sox Nation and Patriot Day. Go there only with your faith and no promises. Not even with the promise that life will necessarily be better there."

"Leave here with the knowledge that life as you have come to know it will most certainly change—and that in the midst of that change, you will most assuredly be transformed".

So as I plunge deeper into this Old Testament narrative, I come to appreciate that the story of our spiritual ancestor, Abram (a/k/a Abraham), is far more than just a tale about his journey from one locale to another.

There is more here than just a change in life circumstances or a change in life style. God promised to bless Abram and to make him a blessing to others. And when God promises blessing, it almost always means more than just change for that particular person, it also means personal transformation.

Not all blessings are readily apparent. At some point, Abram must have wondered if being blessed was really worth it. After all, where is the blessing in being told to offer your beloved son as a sacrifice? Where is the blessing in having to deal with a jealous wife who wants her own child, and forces you to abandon your first born in the wilderness?

And yet, blessing Abram learned, can also be an opportunity for personal growth. Blessing can mean bargaining with God to save the lives of the people of Sodom and Gomorrah. Blessing may also be the reward for offering hospitality to traveling strangers.

Through it all, Abram learns that this faith journey with God has truly brought him to new place spiritually—a place where the values and certainties of life are constantly being challenged and often revealed as illusory. His old ways of thinking, he learns, must be abandoned. Everything by which he has defined his very existence is of little use to him.

This God refuses to be defined by Abram's reality. Instead, it is Abram who discovers that he is being thrust into an entirely new paradigm. And it is not merely the paradigm of "change," but rather, the paradigm of "transformation."

Fast-forward a few centuries. A well-respected member of the established religious community, Nicodemus, meets with an upstart, itinerant teacher under cover of darkness. Nicodemus is searching for meaning in his life. He is rich, successful, and powerful and yet feels unfulfilled. As he enters his later years, his thoughts turn more and more to his own righteousness--what must he do to get "right" with God?

He seeks answers—the "ultimate solution", the "can't miss" plan, the guaranteed strategy for success and peace of mind. But he is brought up short, and told by Jesus that he must be born again—transformed into a new person.

Now, this advice makes no sense to Nicodemus, a man of great learning.

Nothing short of re-entering the womb will seemingly lead to the kind of change that Jesus is suggesting. And what ensues in the course of their conversation is Jesus' insistence that the spirit of Nicodemus' must undergo transformation—must be taken into God's spirit once more and be reshaped and renewed--given new vision and purpose.

Catapult into the present. Is there anyone not talking about change? It is our "bon mot" in this campaign season—promise after promise about what is needed in this city, this state, this nation is change. Every person of every political stripe imaginable is casting him or herself as the "candidate of change."

But, my brothers and sisters in Christ, I submit that change is just about the last thing that we need right now. Because the "Change" that everyone is promising is synonymous with "the sure-fire solution" and "the easy way out". It creates the illusion that "the system really ain't broke" when we all know it is.

Our notions of "Change" will not feed the hungry,

• Nor will it end a pointless war,
• Nor will it create meaningful work,
• Nor will it put an end to politics as usual.

Change will not produce a fair and just solution to our immigration dilemma.

• It will not fix our broken education system.
• And, it will not erase the fear, anxiety, and hopelessness that pervade our human spirit.

Like Nicodemus in his spiritual distress, we too are looking for the magical candidate—someone who we so desperately believe will offer us the change we believe we want. But let's ask ourselves: Do we really want meaningful change in our lives? Or are we willing to settle for more of the same, just so we can feel slightly better about how things turn out at the end of the day?

The present call for "change" in our society engenders a false hope—that perhaps by tweaking a law here or adding more money there, all of our problems will be solved. Our consciences, however, tell us that things aren't as they should be.

We sense that the panacea for our society's self-centeredness and materialism cannot be found in a set of mild reforms that mask "business as usual".

Someone once noted that real change is not a "goose-down pillow, a yellow brick road or a meaningful bumper sticker." What we are being offered today does not speak to the disturbing social, economic and spiritual atmosphere that has been created by fear.

So something more than mere change is called for, and we as the people of God must be in the forefront of the movement that rejects the offer of ephemeral change and demands instead, real transformation.

What God demands is something beyond our normal conventions of acceptable "change". God has rejected our fast--our misplaced faith in mere change. For God's fast requires transformation of the human spirit. God' fast, Isaiah says,

• looses the bonds of injustice
• lets the oppressed go free
• shares bread with the hungry
• stops the pointing of the finger at others
• ceases demonizing the Stranger
• brings the homeless into our houses; and
• satisfies the needs of the afflicted...
  -Isaiah 58:6-7, 9a-10

That is the fast that God chooses!

Jesus taught us about true transformation that begins with our acceptance of God's order of things, and not our insistence upon relying on failed human systems.

God has told you, O Church, what is acceptable!

• God is saying that our intrinsic belief that life is premised on a zero-sum game—More for me, less for you" is morally and spiritually bankrupt.
• God is saying that all that our blind allegiance has bred is greed, deprivation, and alienation.
• God is saying that our blind obsession with being the best and having the best without regard to the needs and rights of others has led to a human sickness—a sickness of our souls—that only a complete transformation of our spirit will cure.

In this critical election year of 2008, we must move beyond a bumper sticker faith that is satisfied with token change. God has called us to be more, so much more—"People of transformation:" As people who hunger and thirst after righteousness, we can no longer afford to settle for the breadcrumbs of change.

So we, the followers of Christ, must enter into the public forum and demand that this country and its leaders adopt the fast that God has chosen. The time has come for us to reclaim what we have surrendered in the name of expediency and the status quo.

Forty-five years ago, in 1963, when this country faced a dark midnight of its own soul—a moral and social crisis that many religious institutions and leaders attempted to ignore—Martin Luther King challenged our churches to remain true to God's calling:

"The church must be reminded that it is not the master or the servant of the state, but rather the conscience of the state. It must be the guide and critic of the state, and never its tool. If the church does not recapture its prophetic zeal, it will become an irrelevant social club without moral or spiritual authority." —From "A Knock at Midnight" a sermon by Martin Luther King, Jr.

The hour has come and now is. God's will is for transformation, and for transformation now. It is time for us to stop "practicing" our faith and to start "living" our faith. It is time for us to stop buying into the politics of accommodation. It is time for us to say "no" to compromise masquerading as "change".

Gandhi once warned us of seven social sins that are capable of not only destroying nations, but capable of destroying souls as well. He cited:

1. Politics without principle
2. Wealth without work
3. Commerce without morality
4. Pleasure without conscience
5. Education without character
6. Science without humanity
7. Worship without sacrifice

Is there anyone who thinks that these sins are not alive and well in our society?

My bothers and sisters in Christ, surely we are in spiritual crisis, and we must decide whether we are going to "speak and act fearlessly" now on behalf of justice and truth.

In a society that seeks the magic formula, the quick fix, and the path of least resistance, our talk of rejecting change and embracing transformation will appear to many to be akin to Don Quixote tilting at windmills.

Peter Gomes argues that a truly transformative value system—one worth fighting for—is hard to define and equally hard to defend.

Nevertheless, he poses the question:

• Who dares to be righteous in an unrighteous world?
• Who dares to be godly in a godless place?
• Who dares to be faithful and loving in a faithless and loveless world?
• Who in this ego-centered, id-obsessed, power-hungry world dares to be gentle?"
  —Gomes, "Some Things Worth Fighting For" in Strength for the Journey, p.158.

The answer for us who embody the living Christ is: "We do. And we will, with God's help". For that is the promise of our baptismal Covenant:

• That we would be people of reconciliation,
• Agents of reformation, and
• Instruments of transformation.

And that like Jesus, and Paul, and Absalom Jones, and King, and Kennedy, and Tutu and Mandela, we too in the words of the old beloved hymn will "Fight the good fight with all our might".

So in this election year when so many are at risk and so much is at risk, I pray that we all will be:

• Risk Takers for Righteousness,
• Risk Takers for Truth,
• Risk Takers for Faith,
• Risk Takers for Transformation.

For we can do all things through Christ who strengthens us.

And, my brothers and sisters in Christ, if not now, when? And if not us, who?

AMEN