It was a hot,
humid Sabbath, back in the day before air-conditioning. The windows were all open, flies buzzed
in and out, fans stationed at strategic locations around the church churned the
otherwise breezeless air. I sat
there with sweat running down my back, my forehead, my chest—pretty much any
pore that could sweat was
sweating. I have no idea what the
pastor said, for in my misery, his voice had long ago become little more than a
drone in the background of my suffering.
I looked around
and saw many other church members stirring up the air themselves with whatever
they could get hold of, be it funeral home fans, camp-meeting fans, or just
hymnals out of the rack, and trying to pay attention. Others had succumbed to the heat and were dozing, some
quietly, some not so quietly. Other kids, like me, were trying to simply endure
to the end. Some were watching the
flying insects. Some were counting
ceiling tiles. One had abandoned
his seat altogether, and had crawled under the pew and was now laying on the
cool tile floor right in front of one of the square box fans sitting on the
floor. He was fast asleep. I privately envied him, knowing that
death would be my fate if I tried something similar on my side of the church.
The pastor, in
his dark suit, with the coat on and buttoned, literally had rivulets of water
pouring down his forehead, which he swiped repeatedly with an already soaked
handkerchief as he continued to preach.
I don’t know how he did it.
And somewhere in
the middle of my agony, the question came clearly to my mind. I had no answer for it that day, and
I’m not sure that I have a much
better answer for it on this day.
The question? Why do we do
this? Why do we come to church
week after week when nothing ever seems to change?
On that day for
me, as on this day for some of you, the answer was that I was there because I had to be there. My parents had insisted
I be there, so I was there because I had to be. But others had actually chosen to be there. What was that about?
In that day and
time, a person was measured in the church community, as well as the society at
large, by their behavior. It
seemed to be externally focused.
Look good…you are good.
Look bad…you are bad. It
didn’t seem to matter what a person was really like on the inside. If you didn’t look or act just right on
the outside, you were judged harshly.
So maybe many of them came to avoid judgment. Or perhaps they came because they wanted to move up in the
church community.
Or maybe from my
perspective, I was the one being a bit harsh, because there probably were some
there because they truly loved Jesus.
I mean, there had to be some there because of that. It’s just that it seemed like nothing
ever changed in that church. Week
after week, summer, spring, winter and fall, we would all be there, and outside
of a few amusing incidents, I can’t really remember anyone changing.
Miss C, an old
maid spinster, was still mean outside of church. Mr. R. still yelled at little kids who didn’t go right into
church, asking them if they wanted to
go to hell, because that’s where they were headed if they didn’t get right into
church…which is where some of us thought we were on those hot summer days IN
church. The story was that Mr. B
would beat his kids if they didn’t sit still during church as well as their one-hour family worships, and the two older ones often came to school with bruises
on their legs and arms. Mrs. M.
gossiped about everyone to everyone.
And it was widely known, probably through Mrs. M, that Mr. H was making
political moves towards being nominated head elder so that he could run the
church the way he thought it ought to be, and that included maybe even getting
rid of the pastor, if need be.
Then there was
the pantry patrol, a group of ladies who would go to the homes of others in the
church to make sure that they didn’t have any “forbidden’s” in their pantry or
refrigerators. No sugar. No pop. No mustard. No vinegar. Nothing that would be against the health message
they touted. Moderation was not
part of their vocabulary. Nor was
kindness. As strict vegetarians,
they also sought to make all others vegetarian, and woe be unto you if they
found some meat in your fridge.
Eggs, somehow were ok…but not chicken.
The gospel
preached back in that day emphasized more the hardship of following Jesus, and
how much you had to do, or not do, and how much you were supposed to give up.
It was about conquering all known sin, at least any that people could see. It
was about passing out tracts and literature, distributing articles of clothing
and Bible studies given. It was
about getting your Ingathering goal…not giving it, and it was about making sure
that others knew that you had done your part for the church, whatever that may
be. It seemed to be all about
externals—but though people did some pretty whacky things, like the pantry
patrol, it never really seemed to make a difference in their day-to-day lives. It just seemed like people were working
like mad to get to heaven.
Gradually, the
pendulum began to swing back the other direction. People actually acknowledged that one could be saved by
grace, through faith, and not from the works they were doing. But as pendulum swings go, it kept
going through its swing until we get down to now, where we are on the other
side of the pendulum swing.
We’ve opted now
for such a grace orientation, that we almost never talk about Christ's life and death and resurrection giving us the victory over sin
anymore. We’ve just accepted
living with it and repeating a pattern of sin, feel guilty, ask forgiveness,
sin, feel guilty, ask forgiveness, etc. We’ve actually settled for sin management, instead of
sin conquering. Which is not new
either.
That started
back in the garden. Check out Genesis 3:6,7 When
the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the
eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it. She also
gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it. 7 Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they
realized they were naked; so they sewed fig leaves together and made coverings
for themselves.
We
get pretty hard on Adam and Eve for plunging us all into sin, but the fact is,
they had never heard a lie before, and they had no clue that all beings weren’t
totally honest. They did not know
that deception existed. They had
only had truthful dealings with God.
Everything He told them was true, and they had no reason to doubt. Isn’t it logical then to assume that in
their innocence, they would have no reason to doubt what the serpent said?
Satan knew this, and used it to his advantage. But once they had bitten on the lie, innocence faded away.
Isn’t
it interesting that when the abrupt realization comes that they were not innocent
anymore, and that suddenly they find themselves vulnerable and naked, they
instantly start trying to manage sin?
They sewed fig
leaves together to cover their nakedness, caused by their transgression. Now
here’s the real interesting thought.
Adam and Eve had never heard of deception before. They were innocent and had no knowledge
of evil, or lies or anything…they were led to sin because they trusted a
serpent to be honest with them, even though the serpent contradicted God. Their doubt, their desire to be like
God, and their acting on that desire caused them to fall, though they had never
seen sin or lies or evil before.
We,
on the other hand, have known about deceit almost from birth. We know of evil and disease. We have a written history of how it
started. We have the story of sin
and of redemption. We know that
Jesus has made a way out for us when He died on the cross. We know all of this, and yet we still
sin. And we still make
excuses. And in our teaching today,
we have actually made it all ok.
See,
whenever we teach that salvation is by mental assent, or intellectual belief,
that doesn’t also include transformed behavior, we have given ourselves
permission to keep on sinning. And
we make excuses. We sew fig
leaves. “Well, that’s just the way
I am! I can’t help it.” “I was born with a red-hot Irish
temper—so I can’t help it.” “My
dad had a problem with chasing other women, so I guess it just comes
naturally.” That may be the way
you are, but it is not the way Jesus
wants to leave you.
How
much longer will we go on pretending to be Christians, while doing everything
the world does? When will we
realize that to do everything the world does, would actually make us
non-Christian? When will we
realize that to do so is really fraudulent of the church at large? That we are actually telling people we
are what, in fact, we really aren’t?
Rom.
12:1,2 Therefore, I urge you,
brothers, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices,(a
sacrifice is a total giving up of something—here Paul is saying to offer
yourself as a sacrifice) holy and pleasing to God — this is your spiritual act
of worship. 2 Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world,
but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test
and approve what God’s will is — his good, pleasing and perfect will.
God
is calling you this morning to a transformation. It is true that Jesus loves you just where you are…but He
loves you too much to leave you that way.
He wants you to become just like Jesus. And if you are not becoming more and more like Jesus, you are
not truly a disciple.
If
you are not being transformed into the image of Jesus, then you are not truly
following as a disciple. If your
temper problem is not more under control today than it was when you first
started following, you haven’t truly given it to Jesus. If you still lie, or gossip or steal,
then you need to bring those things to Jesus and let Him begin the
transformation process. If you
don’t love others more now, than when you first started with Jesus, then you
haven’t been doing the discipleship coursework.
Accepting
His gift is one thing. It’s the
first step. That’s what we call
justification. But walking in His
steps is the second step and the third…and so on, until you become like
Jesus. That’s sanctification. Your faith becomes obvious in your life
by the changes that take place due to your obedience to Jesus.
We’ve
got to rearrange our goals from being successful, or wealthy or even noble and
instead, make our goal to be a committed follower of Jesus. Until we do, we will lack passion, and
perspective and priorities and perseverance to follow Jesus. And we won’t see the fruit of the
Spirit growing in our lives. And
we won’t tell others about the kingdom, even though we know that Jesus asked us
to. And we will be weak,
spineless, Christ-less Christians, which are really not Christians at all. And as a result, because the individual
members lack those things, the whole church will be weak, spineless and
Christ-less, which means that we really aren’t a Christian church, no matter
how much we may identify ourselves that way.
It
all goes back to a choice. It’s
everybody’s choice. Each of you
have to make it. A choice, not
only to take the first step with Jesus…which many of you did last Sabbath by
accepting His grace and forgiveness in your lives, but also a choice to take
the second step, by accepting His grace and leadership into your lives. He not only wants to forgive you, He
wants to transform you into His likeness.
He wants to change you from who you are to who He wants you to be. He wants to help you overcome your sin
and bad habits and He wants to rule in your heart. He wants you to talk and act and think and become Just like
Jesus.
God calls us to
more than just a mental assent to the truth. He calls us first of all to repentance. And then He calls us to live the life
of Jesus. To believe what Jesus
believed. Live as Jesus lived. To love like Jesus loves. To minister like Jesus ministered. To lead as Jesus led.