Community Church Sermons
September 9, 2007
Pentecost
15
Jeremiah 18:1-6
Listen to this Sermon!
On the last day of our vacation in New Hampshire, at
our place on Highland Lake, I was outside grilling up some burgers for lunch.
All of a sudden, I noticed a little red squirrel come scurrying out from under
the house with a big chunk of something in its mouth. He dashed across a
few yards of open space between the house and a big old tree, and then
scrambled up the trunk of that tree as fast as his little legs could carry him.
I couldn’t see him once he got into the upper branches, but I sure could hear
him chattering up a storm the way squirrels do when someone has invaded their
territory. That little red squirrel was obviously not happy with my presence.
But I kept on cooking. And I noticed him sneak back
down that old tree trunk, and peek around to see if I was looking. And when it
seemed to him that the coast was clear, he made another mad dash for underneath
the house. A few minutes later, there he was with a piece of something that
looked like insulation in his mouth, sprinting again to the tree, and up the
trunk, and into the high branches where he started chattering at me again.
I thought to myself, “What a cute little
squirrel! I think I’ll make friends with him next time he comes down.”
So the next time he scurried down the trunk of that
big old tree and peeked at me from around the backside, I said, “Hey!”
Well, he froze in position, the way some critters do
when they feel threatened. I could see him glaring at me out the corner of his
beady little eyes.
“Whatcha doin’? I asked.
Then he unfroze himself and turned toward me,
putting his tiny hands on his little squirrel hips. He looked perturbed. “Oh
great,” he said, “a talking human. That’s just what I need.”
“Hey,
don’t be mad,” I said. “I’m not going to hurt you. I was just wondering what you’re doing. I
noticed you taking things out from under my house and carrying them up into the
tree.”
He laughed. “YOUR house? Get real, pal. That ain’t your house. It’s my house and
I’ll take whatever I want from it. Now get outta here! I got work to do!”
Now I was the one getting perturbed.
“Listen,
you little rodent. My wife and I bought this house 30-years ago. In fact, we
just finished paying off the mortgage and now we own it free and clear. It’s
our home.”
“Is
not your home. It’s my home!” he declared.
“Well,
how do you figure that?” I asked.
He said, “Look – what are you doing?”
“Cooking
burgers for lunch. Want me to put one on the grill for you?”
“Nah,
I don’t eat red meat,” he replied, “but if you got a chicken breast…”
“Sorry,” I said. “We’re all outta chicken. We
had to use most everything up before leaving for Tennessee today.”
“EXACTLY!” the
little red squirrel said. “You and the missus are gonna gobble up your burgers and then what are
you gonna do?”
“Well,
we’re going to clean up the house, pack up the car and head back to Tennessee.”
“And
what am I gonna do? Well I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do, pal. I’m gonna keep
carryin’ the stuff I need up the tree to build my nest because, you see, when
you’re safe and sound down there on ol’ Rocky Top I’ll still be here. You’re
here maybe three weeks a year, but I’m a full-time resident.”
Hmmm. Well, the burgers were done and I needed to leave so I
said, “Well,
it’s been nice chatting with you, but I gotta go.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Hope you have a safe ride
back to Tennessee. But do me a favor, will ya?”
“Sure.”
“Don’t
come back next year!”
And with that, he scrambled back up the tree, chattering away.
Well, when I got back to Tellico I decided to do a little
research on red squirrels. I had to laugh a little because I learned that many
red squirrels don’t survive the first year of their lives and, of those that
do, the average lifespan is only 2.3 years. Maybe that bold little red squirrel
won’t even be there when we get back next summer. Wouldn’t that be a joke on
him! And even if he does survive another year, I didn’t have the heart to tell
him I’m planning to cut down that tree next year.
Funny how you think things are your own…when they’re not.
Not really. They may be things that are present in your life for a while, but
there’s nothing in life you can truly possess. My New Hampshire home, it turns
out, is not as much my home as I thought – despite the paid off mortgage and
the deed to the property. It belongs as well to that little red squirrel, the
mice that winter there, and the carpenter ants that join hands to hold it all
together.
And that little red squirrel’s future is not something he can
possess either. 2.3 years average life expectancy. And then its life is over.
And what is true for red squirrels is true for you and me, but with a longer
life expectancy that nonetheless seems to get shorter and shorter and go faster
and faster the older you get.
Nothing in this life is permanently ours.
There was Judah, the great southern kingdom of the Jewish
people. There was the beautiful high-walled city of Jerusalem, its capital.
There was the magnificent Temple at its center where God resided and the people
were protected and life was certain and sure.
But change was in the wind. The prophets predicted it. But
no one wanted to listen. Everyone was so certain of the permanence of their
home, and their life and their future. “We are God’s people, the Chosen ones, God himself
is with us!” That’s one of the things people look for in religion, isn’t
it – a sense of security and permanence and certainty?
One of the prophets – Jeremiah by name – was led one day
down to the house of a potter. There Jeremiah stood, watching the potter throw
a pot. But as the potter turned the wheel, there was some flaw in the pot –
perhaps one that only the potter could see. So the potter took the clay and
reshaped it into another, better pot.
And the Spirit of God spoke to Jeremiah’s heart and gave him
this message for God’s children. God said, “Can I not do with you what the potter has done?
Like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in my hand.”
I can think of no better way to understand yourself and to
understand life. You are clay in the hands of God the potter. And the potter is
spinning you on his wheel, and with his own hands God is constantly shaping and
reshaping you into something new and better.
Life is like clay – soft and malleable and changeable. And
God is the potter, constantly reshaping our lives.
Now if God is right about this – and I suspect God is! –
then you and I need to look at change from a different point of view. Many in
our world resist change and are afraid of it. Change is something we don’t like
or want. But in the life of faith, change is a gift from God.
It is first of all a gift that helps us discover more of our
potential and capabilities as people.
Ryan, our 5-year old grandson, was so excited this summer
because he learned to ride his bike without training wheels! He was so excited!
And when Sandy and I arrived at camp in August, the first thing Ryan did was to
show us this new skill he had learned. So we watched him ride without training
wheels. And we watched him crash when he couldn’t remember how to stop. And we
saw, as the weeks went by, that he got better and better at riding his bike.
Meanwhile, Ryan’s 7-year old friend was still plodding along
with training wheels on his bike. While he was afraid to take them off, Ryan
was out there zooming, and skidding…and crashing! And he was so proud of
himself because of it! What a beautiful gift!
When one of our church members lost her husband a while
back, she wondered how in the world she’d make it. He took care of the daily finances,
and the long-term investments, and kept the house in good repair. Not only did
she miss him, but she
worried about all these other things too. How could she go on?
Well, many months later, she still misses him terribly. But
she’s learned how to manage the money, and take care of the house, and has even
been able to develop a social life that is fun and rewarding.
“I
never knew I was capable of taking care of myself,” she said.
Then she added with a smile on her face, “I think my husband would be proud of me.”
I’m sure he is.
Change is a God-ordained fact of life, and it introduces us
to the greater gifts and capabilities within us.
This is a time of great change in the life of our church.
We’re bursting at the seams, and outgrowing our facilities. What shall we do?
As we meet with our architectural team, we will be tempted
to address these changes by asking the question, “What do we need?” And
that’s a good question, but it is not the first question we should ask. The
most important question is, “What are we capable of?”
When Jesus started the church by gathering his handful of
followers on the Mt. Of Olives, he did not commission them on the basis of
their needs, but on the basis of what he knew they were capable of.
“Go
and make disciples of all nations…,” he said.
Imagine that? Who could believe that ragtag bunch of people
were capable of such a thing? But it’s the story of the Christian Church. And
it’s the story of our church. We started with eleven members. What in the world
are eleven people capable of? Well, they were capable of trusting in God. And
loving each other. And they were capable of welcoming others into that love.
And so eleven became twenty and twenty became fifty and fifty became
one-hundred. They were capable of starting a scholarship program for local high
school students. They were capable of
making the county a better place by initiating and supporting almost
every service organization in sight. And all along the way, they were capable
of making friends with others, and bringing the Good News of Jesus to more and
more people. And 100 became 200 and the 200 became capable of building a
beautiful sanctuary more than large enough to welcome anyone who wanted to
become part of this ministry.
And now there are about 1400 of us.
What do you think 1400 people are capable of? What do you
think God knows we are capable of? How much further can Christ’s love reach?
How much more good can be done in our community and county? How many more
people can be welcomed and loved and cared for, especially in the tough times
of life?
One of our church pioneers put it right when she said, “I don’t think any of us
back then at the beginning even imagined that we could become the church we are
today.”
Change is often the instrument by which God exposes the
tremendous potential he has created in us. And nothing puts a smile on God’s
face faster than when a five-year old boy, or a 70-year old widow, or even a
church full of people, dare to take the training wheels off and discover new
skills and capabilities.
Change also leads us to discover more and of the beauty and
mystery and magnificence of this world in which we live, and the One who
created it.
When not riding his bike without training wheels, Ryan likes
taking walks with me, and one day a few weeks ago, we hiked over to the brook
that feeds our end of the lake. Along the way, Ryan was throwing stones –
that’s another skill he is learning. I’m learning how to duck really fast! Well
we found a stone – a nice smooth round stone. And we noticed that this stone
had a very distinct line – a striation - running around its circumference.
Well, we took the stone back to camp and when we got there, I put a screwdriver
blade on the line and gently tapped it with a hammer. The stone split neatly in
two, almost perfectly divided, and inside was a gift from God.
There was the fossilized imprint of a leaf! How amazing! How
wonderful! And to think that the leaf image we discovered that day came about
because millions of years ago, a leaf fell from a tree, and was covered with
sand, and as glaciers moved the sand was compressed, and over time a boulder
was formed, and the rains fell, and a river started to run, and the water
worked on that boulder over centuries and centuries until it became small and
rounded, and Ryan and I found it and cracked it open!
Our joy in finding that stone this summer came about because
of countless changes that took place over millions of years!
There is so much more beauty and wonder in this world than
we realize. But we can discover it if
we are willing to crack life open, and let change happen. And when we
discover the wonderful and complex mysteries of life, we look to God and say, “WOW!”
Change is a gift that helps us discover our hidden
capabilities, that reveals to us the deep beauty and richness of life, and
finally – change is a gift that helps us discover the faith of Jesus.
Do you remember what happened at the end of his life? He
didn’t want to die. Who does? But when death came, do you remember what Jesus
said?
“Father,
into thy….(what)….I commit my spirit.”
Jesus faced the ultimate change – death – by placing his
trust in the promise that the hands of the potter can even reshape destruction
into resurrection and new life.
Jesus is the perfect example of the greatest truth of all –
and that is that there is nothing permanent in life to which we can anchor our
lives, except God.
If you are going through times of change, turn to the Lord.
Trust in the promise that God has his hands in the clay of your life, and will
use the change to reshape you into an even more beautiful vessel.
“I
am the potter, you are the clay!”
Thanks be to God!