Today the Protestant Church celebrates its origins birthed from objections over Roman Catholic authority and practices deemed to be unfaithful to the witness of Scripture. Though he certainly wasn’t the only reformer, we highlight Martin Luther who in 1517 posted a document on the church door in Wittenberg, Germany with a list of 95 arguments for decisive change within the monolithic Christian Church. One protest among many that characterized those early “protest-ants.”
You know the rest of the story. . . the Roman Church hierarchy wasn’t appreciative of his suggestions and when Luther wouldn’t stand down, excommunicated him, whereupon he married an ex-nun, had five kids, wrote hymns set to popular bar tunes, and spent his days writing, praying, preaching, and teaching.
Though Presbyterians were arguably more influenced by John Calvin, to Luther we owe undying gratitude for centering God’s grace offered unconditionally to humanity for our salvation. He may not have coined the phrase that became a rallying cry throughout the generations, but he did model it: Ecclesia reformata; sempre reformanda; the Church reformed, and always to be reforming.
Change is part of life. We change; the world changes; society changes, even the church changes. It’s been said nobody actually likes change (except a wet baby), and institutions tend toward preservation of the status quo. But some change is unavoidable and that’s where we as pastor and congregation are right now. The transition to new leadership (and retirement for me) calls us to some particular tasks such as celebrating accomplishments, giving gratitude, practicing forgiveness, and letting go.
We may experience a rich mixture of joy and sadness and anxiety, a bit of nostalgia and tremendous excitement for what lies ahead. No matter what the particular transition, however, healthy ones require that we embrace change.
Jesus spoke of change as he called people to follow; put your hand to the plow and don’t look back. I don’t think he meant for us to cut ourselves off from the past, but not to be limited by it. Instead, Jesus calls us into the future God is preparing, informed but not bound by the experience of the past.
It’s always tempting to look with nostalgia at a past through the hazy glow of memory. Most of my memories of the past fourteen years are warm and wonderful (though there was that pesky pandemic…..). But nostalgia is the enemy of imagination, and we must not linger long in those cozy dens but turn with courage and vision toward tomorrow.
Why? Because that’s where God is active. Our morning scripture text emerged from one of the most difficult periods of Israel’s life. The nation had been conquered; God’s house overridden by adversaries, and many of the citizens had been forced into exile far from home.
For people nourished on a narrative of exceptionalism as God’s chosen ones, this exile constituted a national crisis— and a religious one. Could God be trusted? Had the covenant promises been betrayed? How could they go forward?
Not terribly different from questions we’re asking anxiously before the presidential election nine days from now. A reading from the prophet Isaiah, in the 43rd chapter, and because of my error, the verses are actually 15 through 19. Listen for God’s Word to God’s people—then and now. [Isaiah 43:15-19] The Word of the Lord. Thanks be to God.
The Church reformed, and always to be reforming. . . . .
Makes me think about baseball.
Yes, that hallowed sport (my favorite!). Sure, it’s not covered in veneration the way it once was, and we Rockies fans bemoaned our second 100-loss season by turning quickly to the fortunes of the Broncos. There is the World Series with the best teams money can buy.
But consider the ways baseball has changed in recent years and the consequences: the 20-second pitch clock, (which has decreased average game time by nearly half an hour); an increased base size from 15 inches square to 18, for the safety of runners and fielders to avoid collisions (which also shortened the distance between bases, resulting in runners taking more risks, a 40% increase in stolen bases over the 2022 season).
In the most sweeping and significant change, Major League Baseball has come to recognize seven different Negro Leagues as Major Leagues, meaning that players who were unable to be considered due to racism can now have their lifetime statistics included in official records. As a result, the legendary Josh Gibson who spent his entire career in the Negro Leagues, became the all-time Major League batting champion with a lifetime batting average of .372, surpassing the equally legendary Ty Cobb with a lifetime average of .367. Truthtelling and inclusion have actually elevated the sport!
[Thanks to Matthew Rich for this summary; published in The Presbyterian Outlook, October 2024]
To do a new thing in the church and in the world, God calls people to make conscious decisions to change. Sometimes these changes are responses to emerging situations (such as our live-streamed worship services and restricted contact during Covid), and sometimes they are intentionally chosen with purpose (such as identifying our building as a primary tool of ministry and expanding its use beyond worship and church activities).
What changes might open opportunity for God to do a new thing right here and right now? How might the Church thrive in transition by sharpening our focus and being the best stewards of time and resources? How might we disrupt the narrative of mainline church decline? How might we take back the language and good news of Christian faith from those who have politicized and distorted it almost beyond recognition?
One of many characteristics I love about you, Central, is your resilience, your risk tolerance. When the presbytery was deciding whether or not to comply with our request to conduct a synchronous search, rather than wait until my departure to begin the process, Chris Wineman offered the clincher: Central is not a congregation that’s stuck or resistant to change. We’re ready to move forward.
In all my time here, I have not heard even one of you whine…I mean, opine “We’ve never done it that way before.” Guided by a vision of this church as a community resource, you have welcomed nonprofits, broadened our inclusive welcome, voted to borrow money for renovations, made extraordinary financial gifts, learned new practices (like effective marketing), bore up admirably during the pandemic, and adopted new ministries—like Theology on Tap—that were unimaginable in times past.
You’ve asked tough questions about financial stability and faithful investment of our endowment, and made decisions based on the work we’ve felt called to do—at times having to stretch and develop creative ways to make it all happen.
But you’ve rolled up your sleeves every time and figured it out. You’ve been responsive to unforeseen changes. The closing of Central Visitation. The financial collapse of New Genesis. Denver’s migrant influx. Departures of beloved staff; deaths of beloved members. We have mourned these and then put our hands to the plow and faced forward. You will do this again in January and I will too. There will be tears both of sadness and also of profound joy.
Change happens, and transformation isn’t instantaneous. You’all and I will have to practice letting go and living for a little while in that shadowed, discomforting transitional space.
So friends, this is not the time to pull in and pull back. Our vision and hope are rooted in the Lord God, the Holy One, the Creator and Ruler of the universe. And God is a God of change (one reason why we call faith a “journey”). That journey is animated by constant change, of moving away from selfishness and moving toward Love; of being born “again” in ways we didn’t think possible.
As Jesus counseled Nicodemus trying to puzzle that one out he said, The Spirit blows where it will, in unknown directions. [John 3:8] The One who works within history, taking realities both good and tragic to reform and transform….us. The God we worship and serve asks us to perceive the places where God is at work in the world: healing and caring and restoring and reconciling…..and then go there to pitch in.
It’s a continuing journey, a process that does not fit neatly into a single pattern. But change we must, and change we will, if we intend to follow that living, lively Spirit. Friends, today and tomorrow, together and when we separate, let us resolve to be the church reformed and always being reformed by the Word of God.
January is a few months off, and looming larger before us is the presidential election. I wore my sticker to affirm once again that participation in the public arena is part of our Christian responsibility. It’s a race too close to call, with incalculable consequences.
Our nation remains deeply divided about the impact of those consequences and what they will mean for the future. Change happens, but not all changes have equivalent morality, or yield blessings to many, or contribute to human thriving. I trust you and I will mark our ballots with the great commandments echoing in our heads: Love the Lord your God…. and your neighbor as yourself.
I don’t believe God intervenes in human systems to elect the people Divinely ordained. But here’s what I do believe, and why I can face future uncertainties —from the election to February 1. Ironically, it comes from verses of the Isaiah text that actually weren’t part of the sermon, and are ones God declared before the announcement of doing a new thing. In a sea of change, there is something more true, more constant.
And it is the anchor which holds us, come what may.
But now thus says God, the one who created and formed you. . . Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned . . for I am the Lord your God. . . you are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you. [Isaiah 43:1-4]
