Stephen Baldwin
NT: Mark 1.15b
We
Christians have such a long history that we sometimes have very short
memories. Case in point:
repentance. When we talk about
repentance, we usually think about repenting of our sins or turning from our
sins, right? Except that’s not what it
means Biblically. Sometimes our long
history leads us to have a very short memory.
In the New
Testament, repentance means “changing your mind.” When Jesus calls on the disciples to repent
and believe the Good News, he is challenging them to see the world with fresh
eyes! To turn their expectations and
assumptions upside down, allowing them to change their minds to the things they
think they always knew.
If you
turned on your radio or television while getting ready for church this morning,
you probably encountered an evangelist.
If you encountered an evangelist on a Sunday morning, they probably
talked about repentance. If they talked
about repentance, they probably tried to convince you of the need to turn from
your sin. I grew up in a church which
taught us the same thing, but I repented!
I changed my mind when I learned what Biblical repentance actually
means. The problem is that we Christians
have such a long history we often have short memories.
There’s a new movement rapidly gaining popularity in Christian
circles. It’s called the “I am a
Christian” movement, and it’s often found on social media and even in local
pulpits. Its basis is a short and sweet
affirmation of faith which goes like this: “I am a Christian. You can ridicule me. You can torture me. You can kill me. BUT YOU CAN’T CHANGE MY MIND.” Let me say that one more time so you can
wrap your mind around it. “I am a
Christian. You can ridicule me. You can torture me. You can kill me. BUT YOU CAN’T CHANGE MY MIND.”
The folks who say it find it
awfully comforting. It’s as if they drop
an anchor and are happy to stay right there…forever. On one hand, I admire folks who see the world
so clearly. That is a gift, which many
of us do not possess. On the other hand,
we Christians have such a long history that we sometimes have very short
memories.
Jesus calls us to repentance, which
means he expects us to change our minds.
He expects us to grow. He expects
us to learn. He expects that somewhere
between our failures and our accomplishments we will experience the
transforming of our mind…and we might actually change our mind about things,
because we haven’t always had it all figured out.
I was
reminded of that this week when looking at the bare trees behind my
office. When the leaves fall, they
expose a world which has been hidden from us for two seasons. Last winter we trimmed those trees, making
large cuts in the branches. And just
below where the branches had been cut off, dozens of new limbs sprouted in
every direction. Change isn’t always
easy, but it does lead to new life.
I suspect
the reason so many folks feel drawn to the “YOU CANNOT CHANGE MY MIND” camp is
because we live in a rapidly-changing world.
The speed with which the world moves these days has accelerated quickly,
and that leaves us yearning for the comfort of an anchor.
But we
Christians have such a long history we sometimes have very short memories. Jesus never promised an anchor. Never promised stability. Never promised comfort. He actually promised the opposite. Wars and rumors of war. Confusion and chaos. He called these things the birth pangs. Signs that the kingdom is indeed coming. We experienced such signs this week in
Paris. Signs of the end as some are
saying? No, signs of the birth pangs, as
Jesus called them. Signs that humanity
still can’t quite get it right. With our
capacity for great good also comes the capacity for tremendous evil, and we
unfortunately see the signs of that far too often. A dear friend of mine and Kerry’s from
college lives in Paris and was in the area of the concert which was attacked Friday
night. She made it home safely, but Saturday
she was absolutely shaken to her core.
People are
asking, “How can God allow this? What
should people of faith do?” In a word,
repent. See the world as God sees
it. Grieve with a broken heart when
tragedy strikes. Then do everything in
your power to make your life and the lives of those around you count. And for goodness sake, please do not retreat
to the comfortable seclusion of a certainty which does not exist. I know we all want answers, but sometimes
there are no answers. Sometimes the only
thing we can do is repent. Change our
mind. Learn something new. Grow.
This week I
watched a video called, “Advice to Your Future Self.” A seven year old tells a six year old,
“Training wheels are for babies. Just
let go already.”
A nine year
old tells an eight year old, “Find out your babysitter’s weakness. Then use it
against them!”
A nineteen
year old tells an eighteen year old, “Go easy on the makeup. You’re prettier than you think. “
A 25 year
old tells a 22 year old, “Credit cards are not worth the trouble they cause
later.”
A 35 year
old tells a 30 year old, “Losing your job can be a blessing in disguise.”
A 47 year
old tells a 37 year old, “Stop caring so much about what people think. They’re not thinking about you at all.”
A 63 year
old tells a 53 year old, “It’s never too late to try something new.”
An 80 year
old tells a 75 year old, “Spend all your money.
Otherwise, your kids will do it for you.”
And
finally, a 95 year old tells anyone who’s listening, “Don’t listen to anybody’s
advice. Nobody knows what in the world they’re doing.”
We all want
the security of certainty. But the hard
truth is that it simply does not exist.
We must repent all the time. We
must learn. We must grow. We must face new challenges. We must fail.
We must grieve. We must get back
up. We must struggle. We may not have any idea what we’re doing,
but at least we know the Good News—that God abides. Even if we forget, God abides. Amen.
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