Genesis 1-2:4, Acts 9:1-20  “Global Mind Change”

Good Morning!  Happy Earth Day!  The Earth is the Lord’s, and the fullness thereof.  We do not own the earth.  It is our privilege to be stewards of this earth in thought, word and deed.  May the Spirit guide the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart.

My Lenten season was a fruitful one.  I was true to the promise that I made to myself to read Brother Lawrence’s book on The Practice of the Presence of God.  From this, I learned that Brother Lawrence’s faith soared when, after 10 years of focusing on his salvation, he gave that up and began to live fully in the love of God.  I was not surprised to note that the church tried to suppress his writings after his death.  After all, the fear of death and the fear of “no salvation” was a large part of the power base of the religious establishment.  Hooray for you, Brother Lawrence, and hooray for us when we live out of our love and not our fear.
 

Another aspect of Lent that got through my old, tough hide was “God’s Abundant Love.”  I heard it first when Jan read the story of the Prodigal Son on St. Patrick’s Day.  We did not delve into that story that day because we were learning about the amazing courage and adventuresome spirit of the Celtic Christians, such as St. Brendan.  But let’s go back and remember the Prodigal Son.  Against the prevailing custom of his time, he asked his father for his inheritance before the father died.  And then he went out and squandered it all!!  He so totally ran out of food that he had to root around with the pigs.  Pretty degrading, huh?  What the 12 Step folks would call “hitting bottom.”  And then, by the grace of God, he “came to his senses.”  He experienced a metanoia, a mind change, an experience of repentance, of turning back to God, or turning back to goodness.  He practiced his little repentance speech for his father all the way home, but the father didn’t even want to hear it!  He was so delighted that the wayward son was returning that he embraced him first, without even hearing the carefully rehearsed speech.  The biggest party ever was held for the son.  The one who returned to his senses.  The one who returned to God, to his own inner goodness.  Of course, the older brother was grumpy.  He is a lot like us.  We find it safer to play life by the rules.  We don’t like to take risks.  We don’t like to go to that place of chaos that risk-takers can land in.  No pig slop meals for us, thank you.  O God, help us in our unbelief.  Help us comprehend your extravagant love!

The second Lenten story about extravagant love was, of course, Mary of Bethany pouring very expensive oil on Jesus’ feet and then wiping his feet with her hair.  What a gutsy woman.  To be in the presence of a rabbi.  To claim a place at his table.  To let her hair down in front of other men.  To use a year’s wages to anoint his feet, to show all that she blessed and honored him and that she would be present at his burial.  She threw out the social expectations of her culture and showed her extravagant love without remorse.  She heard about this from Judas, who wondered aloud how many poor people the cost of that oil might have fed.  But Mary’s heart was open and she did not count the cost.

Today’s scripture reading about Paul on the road to Damascus is yet another story of abundant love.  Paul, formerly known as Saul, was a good Pharisee, a man who showed his love for God by obeying the laws.  He saw Jesus as a big threat to the religious establishment.  What was Jesus doing saying that the ones who know God will become servants?  It was the temple leaders who knew God, was it not?  What was with all this talk about the Kingdom of God and Blessed are the Poor in Spirit?  Nonsense.  Poppycock.  Time to get those Christians out of here.  And so Saul became a crusader.  And on the road to Damascus, he met the risen Christ.  And did Jesus scold him or give him a tongue lashing?  Of course not.  He looked at him with all the love in his radiant face and said, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?”  Saul was blinded by the light of Jesus’ radiance.  For three days.  Yet in his healing, his mind change, his metanoia, he came to understand that he had been wrong.  His hard heart softened and he received the Holy Spirit.  He found the strength to undertake the mission Jesus’ set out for him.  Immediately he began to proclaim that Jesus was the Son of God.

My dear friends in Christ, we at Wild Rose Church are on the verge of a metanoia, a mind change.  We look around us.  We see the size of our group.  We look at the cost of real estate in Evergreen Colorado.  We gaze longingly at the pictures we treasure of what a church looks like (show pictures).  We are tempted to think that unless we can build a monument to our existence, a nice church building, we will have failed.  We carry these dark feelings around with us.  “Why didn’t Ann pull in enough people to help us build a church?” we may ask.  Or “why did those people who came before us lose our church building property?”  Or “why isn’t our church growing faster?”  All of these questions are verbalizations of fear and doubt.  They are self-limiting in their very nature.  They are setting the sites of our telescope on lack, on scarcity. 

I must tell again the story of my entry into the ministry.  I had read about the fabulous courage of the Celtic Christians who got into boats without rudders and went where ever the wind blew them to preach the Gospel.  I said to myself “I want that kind of faith.”  And after much suffering about leaving the house we had built in which to raise our children, I got that kind of faith.  But it was not without three years of inner tears every time I saw the numbers 6:04 on any digital clock.  That had been our house number:  604 Old Cabin Trail in Sioux Falls , SD.  I no longer weep inwardly when I see those numbers.  I rejoice in the saving grace of the Holy Spirit that freed me from the bondage I had to 604 Old Cabin Trail.

I had an image of two tombstones.  One said “she built a beautiful house.”  The other one said, “She learned how to fly.”  I believe that Wild Rose Church can fly.  I believe we can fly, I believe we can touch the sky.  Think about it every night and day.  Spread our wings and fly away.  I believe we can soar.  See us runnin’ thru that open door?  I believe we can fly.

One way we can fly is to grieve the white steepled church that we cling to in our romantic memories.  To release it is to weep.  Remember the paschal mystery?  For something new to grow, something old must die.  Can you possibly, even for a few moments, consider that the church of the future may look more like this (show photos of buildings with photovoltaic cells) than like this (show white steeple church photos again).  Can Wild Rose Church be among the tiny percentage of people in any culture known as “early adopters”?  Can we be the folks that make it OK for other church buildings to become energy efficient?

And here is the hard part.  Can we do it out of a manifestation of God’s abundant love, not counting the cost?  Can we offer to make this building energy efficient without the notion, going in, that it will be received or that it will discount our rent?  Extravagant love.  Now is the time to act.  If we can find a corporate sponsor we can move ahead at their benefit.  The tax picture is unbelievably good for this type of activity just now.  Let’s say it costs $80K to fit this building.  $60K tax credit could be earned for said corporation.  That leaves us with a mere $20K to raise.  It is said that without a vision, the people will perish.  Will Wild Rose Church be at the leading edge, will we be the trailblazers, the “early adopters?”  Pray about this.  We will talk more.

And please enter into a brief focused meditation with me.  You are now 90 years old.  Your dear children, grand children, and great grandchildren are gathered at your knee.  You look at them lovingly, knowing that your time in their physical presence is limited.  They ask you what some of the greatest achievements of your life were.  You look at them with soft eyes and a radiant smile.  And you tell them, “I Learned How to Fly.” 

Amen