Sermon for Transfiguration Sunday, "A New Name: Back to Beloved," Mark 9:2-9

Sermon 2/15/15

Mark 9:2-9

A New Name: Back to Beloved

Today we’re drawing our “A New Name” series to a close, and as the title of the sermon suggests, we’re looking again at a name that we started our series with: Beloved. Way back at the beginning of this series, I told you through my surrogate preachers Liz and Tim and Bev and Laura, that I’ve been wanting to do this series for a while. We are a body made up of people and resources from South Onondaga and Navarino and Cardiff and Cedarville. But as much as those places shaped us deeply, we’re this new thing: Apple Valley. For the children of this congregation, for those who have come to this congregation in recent years, for those who are and will become a part of this congregation, the only church they know is Apple Valley, this new creation God has formed. We treasure our history, the legacy of the congregations that birthed this one, but we also treasure this new name, this new creation that God is making.

So we began, on Baptism of the Lord Sunday, by reminding ourselves that God called Jesus Beloved in his baptism, and we are God’s beloved too. Our primary identity, in a world that is constantly trying to tell us who we are and who we should be, is Beloved, God’s children, created in God’s image. When God says these words to Jesus, they are intimate and personal: “You are my Son, the beloved, with you I am well-pleased.” But in our text for today, we hear this same name, beloved, in a different way. Our scene in Mark opens just after the scene we read about in Matthew’s gospel last week. Jesus had been asking the disciples who people were saying he was, and then asked them to answer the question himself. Peter answered the Jesus was the Messiah, but then got off track when he heard Jesus talk about the suffering and death the Messiah was to face. Jesus sets Peter straight, saying followers of Jesus must take up the cross, deny themselves, and put themselves last, not first, in order to serve others.

Now, six days after this, Jesus takes three who have been so close to him, goes up a mountain with them, and is transfigured – changed, unveiled – before them. It’s hard to describe what this might be like. You’ll see some artists’ rendering of the transfiguration during the sermon today. The best we can say is: they were able to see Jesus’ full glory, and it was a sight to behold. Elijah and Moses appear and speak with Jesus – they represent the prophets and the law – the two pieces of God’s revelation thus far – and Jesus with them seems to represent a fulfillment of things. Peter doesn’t know what to do or say, and the three disciples are simply terrified by what they see. So Peter offers to build three dwellings for Jesus, Elijah, and Moses. He says it is good for them to be there. Peter’s ready to make it possible to stay – just remain there on the mountaintop to stay in this very holy, if also very scary, place. But then a cloud overshadows them, and they hear God’s voice saying, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” And then the moment is over, and they are alone with Jesus again, and he orders them, as they come down the mountain, not to tell what they experienced until after the resurrection.

            This whole passage is no doubt strange to us. But two things here are important for us to take away: first, the disciples experienced this as an extremely holy moment, where they felt like they were closer to God, and seeing more of God in Jesus, than perhaps they ever had before. Mountaintops in the scriptures are often places where people meet God, and it is from these encounters that we develop the phrase “mountaintop experience” to describe an overwhelmingly awesome experience. This, even if we don’t understand it, is what the disciples have had at the Transfiguration. And second, they want to try to stay there, remain there in that moment, prolong that time on the mountain, rather than returning to life on the ground.

            We can probably relate to both of those pieces of the transfiguration. We’ve had mountaintop experiences in our lives, I hope. Spiritual peaks or highs, moments where things seem to fall into place and we understand or experience God in a way we normally don’t, times where everything seems so good and right and meaningful. It might be at just those moments when we’re most deeply able to know and believe that we are beloved. And we’ve also experienced, I’m betting, wanting to stay in that place – stay on the mountaintop, prolong an experience where we knew the time was limited, where we knew we couldn’t stay forever.

For me, when I was younger, going to church camp every summer at Camp Aldersgate was my mountaintop place. I’ve told you, I think, how much I loved going there. As soon as Christmas was over, I would begin to wait anxiously for the arrival of the camping brochure, the list of all the camps available at Aldersgate that coming summer. Once the brochure arrived, and camps were selected, waiting until summer and camp week was so hard. I used to start packing ridiculously early - making lists of what to bring, what shirt to wear with what shorts, and tucking things away in the back of my closet, all ready for the week of camp to arrive. And then, in a flash, it would be time to take the trip to Aldersgate. During one short week at camp, it seemed so much could happen. You would meet so many people, experience so many new things, and think about and talk about your faith in a way that rarely happened in other settings, especially as a young person. And then, in another flash, it was all over. The week ended, camp ended, and being in that special place, set apart, was over for another whole year.

At first coming home from a week of camp, it was so hard to get back into things, into the normal routine, and so hard to think about waiting a whole long year to be able to go to camp again. When I was a little older, I got to work on staff at Camp Aldersgate, and I got to prolong that feeling I got from camp for a whole summer. In fact, I enjoyed that special time, that special place, that special connection with other people and with God so much that for some time I confused God's call to ordained ministry for a call to the camping ministry. When I got home from my summer on staff, I had an extremely hard time adjusting back to high-school life. I didn't want my mountaintop time to end. I wanted it to be camping season all the time. I wanted to hold on to the connection I felt with God at camp, to the connectedness to the world around me.

Dan Kimball is a pastor who authored a book called They Like Jesus But Not the Church. In the book, Kimball writes about research results that show people outside of the church have a great opinion of Jesus, his life, and his message. They just have a bad opinion – a very bad opinion – of Christians, finding them to be: hypocritical, homophobic, judgmental, and sheltered. Kimball theorizes about why this is – why do people see Christians so negatively? He concludes that without meaning to, Christians are like pretty scenes trapped in a beautiful snow globe – we live in a bubble, and we like it there, and want to stay there. We tend to mostly interact with, live near, and spend time with people who are like us and share our beliefs. Instead of being the church, the body of Christ, we focus on the church as a place, where we might invite people to come. But we’re unlikely to bring church – to bring Christ – to others. And so it is hard to reach others or be reached from inside the bubble. 

Can you relate to this image at all? I found it helpful and challenging. When we think about the Transfiguration, we can see that Peter’s immediate impulse was to create a bubble – to take this extremely holy experience and trap it, keep it, stay there and dwell in it. And we can hardly blame him. Why would he want such a profound experience to end, even if he couldn’t understand it completely? But at the same time, we have to wonder: what if Jesus had stayed up on the mountain with the disciples? What if Moses couldn’t stop basking in the wonder of the burning bush? What if Mary Magdalene stayed at the tomb with Jesus and never went to share the news? What if the shepherds and the Magi couldn’t tear themselves away from the Christ-child? What if I’d never been able to move on from summer camp? The holy places in our lives, where our place with God is confirmed, where we know we are beloved are so precious. But we’re not called to bottle them up, or put ourselves in a bubble with them – we’re called to take the holy with us as we go, to learn to find the holy in valleys, to embody God’s presence in ourselves as we go back down the mountain. That’s why when we talk about our faith lives, we usually talk not about a static place, but about faith as a journey. We worship a God who is named I AM – a living God, an active God, a God always doing a new thing. Jesus calls us to a path of discipleship using a word of movement – we’re to take up a cross and follow.

Our closing hymn is a hymn for Transfiguration Sunday called “Swiftly Pass the Clouds of Glory, written by contemporary Lutheran hymnist Amanda Husberg. Hear the words of the first verse: Swiftly pass the clouds of glory, Heaven's voice, the dazzling light; Moses and Elijah vanish; Christ alone commands the height! Peter, James, and John fall silent, Turning from the summit's rise Downward toward the shadowed valley Where their Lord has fixed His eyes. That last phrase, “where their Lord has fixed His eyes,” lets us know that the transfiguration is sort of a turning point in the gospels. After the transfiguration, Jesus “sets his face toward Jerusalem,” even as he continues to preach and teach. He begins journeying toward his crucifixion. He decidedly faces the ultimate consequences of his radical message of love. There’s no turning back. And so after Peter identifying Jesus as the Messiah, after Jesus talking about taking up the cross and following, when they travel up the mountain and see Jesus transfigured, and hear him called beloved, hear God reminding them to listen, really listen to Jesus, it is sort of a defining moment. They’ve seen Jesus in his glory, revealed, dazzling. But the work Jesus is about, the way his face is set, the people he is called to serve with his very life are back down in the valley. That’s where Jesus is headed. This is the point of no return. And the disciples still don’t get it, fully. But they follow. Because where Jesus, Beloved, goes, they follow.

Remember, the words God once said to Jesus intimately, “You are beloved,” God now says out loud, “This is my beloved.” And so too the intimate experience, the closeness to God that Peter, James, and John experience on the mountain with Jesus is meant to support, not overshadow, the work that they set out to do as they head down the mountain. And so it is with us. We are beloved, and in our holy places and moments when we feel like we’re on the mountaintop, so close to God, the desire to just stay there – us and God – is powerful. But we, dear ones, are not God’s only beloved. Jesus is God’s beloved, and with grace, extends that love to us. And so we extend it to others. We embody the love of God when we find it in others. Our God is of the mountains and the valleys, and all the places in between. And Jesus is setting his face to Jerusalem to pour his life out for others. And if he is God’s beloved, and we are God’s beloved, we are called to do the same. We are God’s beloved – thanks be to God. Trusting that, we set our face, and journey down the mountain, following Jesus. Amen.

Sermon, "A New Name: Simon Peter," Matthew 16:13-26

Sermon 2/8/15

Matthew 16:13-26

A New Name: Simon Peter

            Today we’re taking a look at Simon Peter, one of the twelve disciples, one who was called a different name by Jesus himself. We pick up in the gospel of Matthew, just after Jesus has been warning the disciples against the corrupt teaching of the Sadducees and Pharisees, two groups of religious leader who were always questioning Jesus, his methods, and his authority. Now, as they enter Caesarea Philippi, Jesus asks the disciples, “Who do people say the Son of Man is?” He seems to want a sense of what his reputation is, how people understand the ministry he’s been doing. They tell him that some are calling him John the Baptist, and some Elijah, others Jeremiah, or another of the prophets. And then Jesus is more direct: “But who do you say that I am?” Simon Peter answers, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” Jesus responds, clearly pleased – Peter has it right. Jesus says, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah!” He continues, “I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock, I will build my church.” Jesus says even his own death won’t stop the community of faith that will form, that Peter and the other disciples will organize and order.

            But from this moment of recognition, Jesus begins to speak to the disciples about the suffering he will undergo, about his death and resurrection. They don’t understand him. Peter draws Jesus aside and rebukes him: “God forbid it! This must never happen to you.” And Jesus responds saying, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling-block to me.” Finally, Jesus tells the disciples: If they really want to be followers – if anyone does – they must deny themselves, take up the cross, and follow. Jesus concludes, “those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”

            I hope this passage sounds a little bit familiar to you. We read this very passage together over two Sundays back in August, shortly after Pastor Penny and I started our journey with you. We talked about what it meant for Jesus to be called Messiah – one of his many names – what impact that had on our lives. But today our focus is a bit different. This time, we’re paying particular attention to Peter and what Jesus says to him.

            Peter is called both Simon and Peter fairly interchangeably throughout the gospels. Some gospels use one more than other. John almost always refers to him as Simon Peter. Mark is the only gospel that doesn’t mention Jesus naming Simon Peter. And Matthew is the only gospel that gives us the story. In this passage that we read, Jesus calls Simon Peter. What’s the significance? Biblical scholars have debated this, because the name Peter is different in both Aramaic and Greek. Last week we talked about how Saul started going by Paul, since Saul was Aramaic and Paul was Greek, and Paul was interested in sharing the message of Jesus with those who were Gentiles. Peter, too, is a Greek name, a Greek word, which means “a stone.” The Aramaic word for stone is Cephas, and some of the gospels use this word for Peter. (As an interesting aside, Paul always calls Peter Cephas, as if to emphasize that Peter doesn’t understand the mission of the church like Paul does. Yes, Peter and Paul did not get along. Anyway:) So if we think of this exchange between Peter and Jesus as in Aramaic, Jesus says, “You shall be Cephas, and on this cephas I will build my church.” You are the rock, the stone, and on this rock/stone I will build my church. It works fine, but the text we have, and the name Peter seems to go by is the Greek: Petros. As I said, this word means stone. Not rock, but stone. And then when Jesus says, “on this rock I will build my church,” the word is petra. Rock. Not stone, but rock. Particularly like a shelf of rocks. The kind large rocks that make up a landscape, that you can walk on, build on. A small change in the Greek word – Petros to Petra – makes the difference between a stone and rock. Jesus is saying that Simon called Peter is a stone – but the future Jesus sees in Peter is a rock, a solid foundation on which a movement will be built into what we know as the church.

            Of course, just later in this very passage, Jesus calls Peter by another name altogether: Satan! That word means adversary and opponent. Peter is opposing what Jesus must do, his mission, his purpose, because Peter is scared and confused. But despite the fact that Peter still screws things up, still has some of his worst moments later on – after all, his denying even knowing Jesus is yet to come – still, what Jesus names Simon for is his potential, his promise, his possibility. He names him for what Peter can become if he follows Jesus, if he takes up the cross, if he denies himself and chooses the path of Christ. Peter, the Rock.

What is our potential? Promise? Possibility? What does God see in us? One of my favorite images is a picture I’ve seen now and again of a kitten gazing into a mirror, only to see a lion looking back. Sometimes I’ve seen this as part of an article on self-confidence. When we feel good about ourselves, we look in the mirror and see all that potential. But I think it is more like what happens when we remember that we’re made in God’s image. When we gaze into God’s heart, and God reflects back to us what happens when we ground our lives and our purpose and our dreams in the very heart of God. Then, then, with confidence in God, rather than ourselves, the kitten becomes a lion. And so when I think about the word play of Peter and stones and rocks that are strong enough to be the foundation of a whole movement of Jesus-followers, I realize what it means: A stone is a stone. But a stone plus Jesus equals a rock solid enough, strong enough, to be a foundation. Peter is Peter. But Peter plus Jesus equals one who, though still struggling, inspires crowds to follow Jesus too. We might look in the mirror and see our limits. But when we look into God’s heart, anything and everything is possible. We are a little church, just little Apple Valley. But when we reflect God’s heart to the world, we’re a place with a big mission and big purpose and big reach and big potential Small seeds that with Jesus produce abundant fruit.

            I’ve been participating in a clergy study group for the last couple of years, and together, we read books and discuss how they impact our lives and the lives of our congregations. Right now we’re reading Dare to Dream by Mike Slaughter, the pastor of a large United Methodist Church in Ohio. I’ve found this book more compelling than I expected, and you shouldn’t be surprised to see it offered as a study here in the near future. Throughout the book, Slaughter encourages readers to figure out what their God-purpose is, what their God-centered dreams are for life. He writes, “If [our] purpose is from God, it will always honor God, bless other people, and bring you joy. If it doesn’t meet those three criteria, then it isn’t a God-purpose, no matter how successful you are in accomplishing it.” And then he encourages us to reflect on three questions to figure out our God-purpose: “Where do you see the greatest need around you in your neighborhood, your community, or your world? How can you meet that need? What gifts do you bring to further that mission?”

            Soon, our Lenten journey will begin, and we’ll focus on the practices of forgiveness and reconciliation. But when Easter comes, and we greet the promise of resurrection and new life again, I’m going to try to help us think very seriously about these questions. What are the needs we see? How can we meet them? What gifts do we bring? How are we honoring God? How are we blessing others? What brings us joy? I want us to start to look into the heart of God and see the promise, the possibility, the potential that God sees in us. You plus God equals what? Apple Valley plus following Jesus equals what? We’re like Peter. And so even when we glimpse the image God shows us, we’ll still get things wrong. But maybe we’ll start believing that we’re a people, a congregation that can dream God-dreams, with purpose, with the possibility to transform our lives, our community, and our world. God sees that potential in us. Do you? Blessed are you, stones. Because on this rock, God is building, and building, and building.

            Amen.

Sermon, "A New Name: Saul --> Paul," Acts 9:1-22

Sermon 2/1/15

Acts 9:1-22

A New Name: Saul --> Paul

Have you ever known someone who started going by a different name? They were always called one thing, but they started going by another name? Or maybe you have changed what you are called, over time. Sometimes this is something that just seems to happen, and other times it’s a deliberate choice. Some of you met one of my three brothers, Tim, on Christmas Eve. Tim is Timothy Jon, and so most of his childhood, we called him Tj. But at some point, he started going by Tim instead. It was a hard change to get used to, after referring to him as Tj for so long. Over the years, Tim has become comfortable switching back and forth – Tim or Tj – especially for family. But if he introduces himself, I’m betting he’ll tell you he’s “Tim.”

Or, there’s my older brother Jim. He’s married to Jennifer, and when they got married, Jim decided to take Jennifer’s last name. Jim is Jim Thompson, not Jim Quick. There were a few reasons for this choice. For one, Jennifer’s family is very small – she doesn’t have a lot of aunt and uncles and cousins and siblings. So continuing to be a Thompson meant something to Jennifer. On the other hand, it was important to Jim to shed a name that tied him to my father, with whom Jim was not close, and to embrace the chance to demonstrate that changing names should be a choice, not an expectation based on your gender. My brother Todd and I have our own name stories too. I went through a “Liz” phase, in fact. But you get the idea.

Today, in our series on New Names, we turn our focus to Saul. Our passage opens telling us that Saul has been “breathing threats and murder” against the followers of the way of Jesus. He seeks out more authority from the high priests, seeking the ability to have the followers of the way arrested and brought to trial for punishment, if he meets any on his journey to Damascus. Instead, his journey turns out very differently than planned. As he’s travelling, a light flashes around him, he falls to the ground, and he hears a voice: “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” “Who are you?” Paul wonders. “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting,” the voice responds. Saul follows Jesus’ instructions to head to the city to wait for someone to tell him what to do. He’s been temporarily blinded by his encounter with Jesus.

Once in Damascus, Saul meets a man named Ananias. Jesus appeared to Ananias to send him to help Saul. But Ananias is skeptical. We read, “Lord, I have heard from many about this man, how much evil he has done to your saints in Jerusalem; and here he has authority from the chief priests to bind all who invoke your name.” But Jesus responds, “Go, for he is an instrument whom I have chosen to bring my name before Gentiles.” And we read, “So Ananias went.” He trusted Jesus’ voice! Ananias lays hands on Saul, telling him that Jesus sent Ananias so that Saul could regain his sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit. Saul’s sight is immediately restored, and he gets up and is baptized. Over the next days, he spends time with the very disciples he was intent on persecuting, and begins preaching: “Jesus is the Son of God.”

There are a couple of unique things about our text this week. First, this is the only name change in our series that isn’t a change given by God. We don’t read about Paul’s change in name in our text today – the passage refers to him only as Saul. And we don’t read about God telling him to go by Paul because God never says that. And in fact, this name change is unique because there’s never a time where the scriptures tell us clearly when and why the name change happens. Some chapters after the text we read today, Saul’s conversion story, Luke, the author of Acts, is describing some of the works of the apostles, and he says, “Saul, also known as Paul,” and from then on, Paul is always called Paul. The only time we hear the name Saul again is when Paul is telling the story of his conversion to a follower of Jesus. Paul seems to be a name that Saul chooses to start using after his conversion. Why would he do this?

Well, Saul and Paul are really the same name, just in different languages. Saul is Hebrew, and Paul is Greek. Hebrew or Aramaic would have been the language spoken by Jesus and the twelve and those in Galilee and the surrounding areas. But Greek was the language of the Roman Empire and the larger community. Paul intentionally sheds his local Jewish name, and goes for the language of the non-Jewish community. Why would he do this? Well, Paul, once considered among the most righteous and correct and proper of the Pharisees, adherent to the law – Paul finds that the ministry God has called him to is ministry with Gentiles, those who were not Jewish. Paul's life work is travelling around to Gentile communities and sharing the gospel with them. And so he is known to them by a name that would have meaning to them. Paul, not Saul.

Paul, who was known to be one to uphold the law in every minute detail, has been bowled over by the freedom of the grace offered to him through his encounter with Jesus. And he wants everyone – everyone ­– to be able to experience what he’s experienced. And so he goes by the name that will put those he meets – the Gentiles he spends his life in ministry to – most at ease. See, most of Jesus’ disciples didn’t see, at first, that the mission and message of Jesus was meant for those who were not Jewish. Or at least, they believed that those who wanted to follow Jesus should become Jews, follow the commandments, become part of the covenant, Jews who happened to be disciples of Jesus. This isn’t surprising, really. Jesus talked about fulfilling, not abolishing the law that ordered Jewish life. But Paul just has a different vision for how that takes place. So when he goes out to preach and teach and form churches among Gentiles, he goes as Paul, the Greek, not Saul, the Hebrew. In fact, Paul, in his letter to the Corinthians, says this: “I have become all things to all people, so that I might by any means save some. I do it all for the sake of the gospel, so that I may share in its blessings.” All things to all people. So if Saul needs to become Paul for the sake of the gospel, Saul becomes Paul.

As I read this story, I’m compelled by the journeys of both Paul and Ananias. Not many of us have conversion experiences that are like Paul’s. Some of us do, and that’s a wonderful blessing. But for many of us, if we’ve grown up in the church, the moment our faith became our own and we decide to be Christ-followers is really a series of events and smaller moments, experiences and learning taking place over time. But whether the changes in our relationship with God are more like going from a caterpillar to a butterfly, or more like growing from a seedling into a great pine tree, life with God surely changes us – if we let it, if we continually seek after following Jesus. Is your faith life the same as when you were 5? Or 13? Or 22?

Can we change? Today is February 1^st. Did you make any resolutions one month ago? Have you had resolutions you’ve kept? Sometimes, seeking change in our lives seems like a lost cause, as we get stuck in our same, destructive patterns. And so when we set out to change our lives or change the world it seems hopeless before we even begin. Can we change? The scriptures all full of this promise: God is making all things new. In Christ, we are new creations. But you’ll notice something: the change comes from God. After all, Saul didn’t exactly seek out change in his life. God just changed him. But rather than despairing that I haven’t experienced a conversion as dramatic as Paul’s, it gives me hope. Think of this: if Paul, who didn’t ask to be or desire to become a follower of Jesus, and did the opposite in fact, persecuting followers of the way – if this Paul, in fact, could be changed by God into one who would be thrown in jail and put to death for proclaiming the good news? How much simpler might it be for God to transform those of us who already say we desire to be transformed! Especially if we really mean it. Especially if we actively pray for God to transform our lives. Especially if we participate actively in handing over to God our lives in order to be changed!

Then, of course, there’s Ananias. I wonder: Can we let other people change? It isn’t as easy as it sounds. I’m bowled over by Ananias. Ananias, a Jesus-follower, know that Saul has been overseeing the brutal death sentences of Jesus-followers, and now suddenly he claims to be one himself? Not only that, he’s going to be a leader, spreading the message to Gentiles? And Ananias has to help him? Tend to him? It’s a miracle Ananias didn’t just laugh. But instead, he went and did exactly what was commanded. I can’t imagine that incredible forgiveness and reconciliation that must have had to take place in the heart of Ananias to let all of this happen. Only his trust in God’s plans and his deep understanding of the free gift of grace must have made him able to do that. Can we let people change? During the season of Lent, which is fast approaching, we’ll be talking in depth about forgiveness and reconciliation. But for now, I want us to consider how often people in our lives are trying to change, trying to go a new direction, God’s direction, but we are unable to offer forgiveness, to believe that God offers grace and new life, even to our enemies. I don’t mean that in blind forgiveness, we should put ourselves in harmful, abusive situations. But I wonder, can we let people change? Do we want them to? Is it ok if Tj grows up and becomes Tim? Is it ok if that one person we knew as a bossy know-it-all grew into a strong leader? Can we allow for the addict to become a counselor? The bully to become a teacher? The lost to become found? One of the reasons why I love and stick with something as time-consuming and ad-laden as facebook is because it has allowed me to see people change. I’m “facebook friends” with people I absolutely did not like in high school. And at first I resented a friend request, thinking, don’t they remember how awful they were to me in seventh grade? But then I realized that I got to experience the transformation of lives, in a small way, through the power of facebook!

This week I asked you all to research name or word meanings and to choose a name that captured where you hope to go in your relationship with God, where God is leading you. Did any of you do that? Saul became Paul because God changed him, and Paul wanted to celebrate! And he wanted to celebrate by drawing others into the story. He wanted to invite them to experience this God who makes us new creations. And he’d do anything, even be known by a different name, to help accomplish his mission. Maybe it isn’t as easy for all of us to see how God is changing us, growing us, shaping us. Sometimes we need help from others, or study, or reflection, or prayer, to see how God is at work in us. Sometimes it means we need to be more active in asking God to transform us, opening our spirits to God at work. But God does offer new life to you. And when you know that, claim that, trust that, stake your life on that: we celebrate and share the good news, like Saul, who was Paul, for the sake of the gospel.

Who will you be?

Amen.