"An Exuberant Source"

First Presbyterian Church
June 10, 2007
Peter S. Buehler
Galatians 1:11-24

…they only heard it said, "The one who formerly was persecuting us
is now proclaiming the faith he once tried to destroy."
And they glorified God because of me.

What is so interesting, and I think important, in our scripture passage -- Paul's testimony about the 180-degree turn his life took, from persecuting Christians to being a missionary for Christ -- is not only how freely he tells his story, but how matter-of-fact he is about it.

He doesn't speak of his earlier life in the terms we might expect; he doesn't say he was a terrible sinner, an evil man, a lost soul. We know from the account of Paul's conversion in Acts chapter 9 that his conversion was dramatic -- and it was traumatic.

But in his letter to the Galatians he wants people to understand that the turnaround in his life was not from bad person to good person. Because his early life was all about being a good person. Being faithful to God was what he was about, and what he saw Christians doing truly alarmed him: they were following a so-called Savior who said that following the Torah, the law, was not the way to God. Paul believed that Christians were abandoning the foundations of biblical faith, they were deserting the teachings of God -- they were deserting God himself. He understood the consequences of this heresy and became zealous to stop it. In nearly everyone's eyes, therefore, Paul was not only a good person, he was a leader: a true believer, a role model for those who sought to love God with all their heart, soul, mind, and strength.

Until he saw the light. Until that moment when he was blinded by the truth and forced to rethink everything -- his life, his beliefs, his purpose, his God.
Because following the rules was not the way; he had done that better than anyone, and they had led him to rigidity and intolerance, to pride and anger.
It was Jesus himself who showed him the light, that the way to God was by grace alone. Not by achievement, not by merit, not by effort, not by obedience. The road to life was illuminated by the grace of the One who gave his life -- that was the truth that Paul received, not from a human source, but through revelation of Jesus Christ. Grace was poured out on him not because he was good, but because God is merciful.

Does Paul's story resonate with you? Have you found yourself, a good person, in need of mercy?

We may not in our lives have been thrown to the ground and blinded; we may not have had a dramatic conversion experience like Paul's. Very few of us were bad people, wretched sinners staying away from church because we feared judgment. More likely we considered ourselves pretty good people. Life for us was pretty stable, and church was OK if a bit boring at times. (It was for me.)
Maybe that's why I listened when a professor I had in college, also an ordained Presbyterian minister, spoke of the first church he served in rural West Virginia.
In one of his first sermons a woman became very worked up and at one point during his preaching shot up out of her pew and landed face down on the floor, motionless. Alarmed and concerned, he stepped out of his pulpit toward her when suddenly a man got up and stood right in his way. "You leave her lay where Jesus flang her!" he said. Which is exactly what he did.

Probably not our experience, however! Yet I wonder though if it's this picture of an angry God and angry Christians, a caricature of church, that keeps some people at arm's-length from the church. I wonder if, on the one hand, some people feel they're not good enough as they are for church and stay away, while others believe they are good enough as they are -- just fine, thank you -- and stay away.

Or our neighbor may say to him or herself, The people at church are like those in other community organizations and will want me to get involved -- probably to serve on a committee and be the chairman of something-or-other. They'll ask me to teach Sunday School. I'll feel guilty if I say No, so staying home makes more sense. After all, if God is love, God loves me as I am.

We are tempted to think the same way: that we have earned the right to stay as we are, to be who we are, to live as we are. We're good people. We're doing our best. Don't ask us for more than that!

And we miss the gospel completely. We think we're pushing enough as it is, we don't want to add anything more. We fear that the gospel of Jesus Christ is about more: more changes, asking more of us -- while the gospel is indeed about more: more life, more meaning, more happiness, more hope, more purpose, more love.

The gospel is the utterly unexpected over-the-top generosity of God in the grace of Jesus Christ. The gospel is the power to become not who we think we ought to be but who we are created to be. The gospel is the power to follow Jesus Christ, to be his disciples, to trust him, to be free of fear and free for love and loving service in the world.

Too often it is thought of as a set of propositions, of things Christians are supposed to believe, rather than as power, God's gracious power that draws us into a new world, a world of grace. I love what one New Testament scholar says about the gospel: it is not about regulating us, it is about expanding us. It is not a delimiting circle, but an exuberant source (P. T. Forsyth).

What a great word, exuberant! The dictionary defines it as "Full of unrestrained high spirits; abandonedly joyous. Lavish; effusive; overflowing. We think of the Prodigal Son and the Prodigal Father; after all, the story is really about him -- how he was overflowing with forgiveness, mercy, and generosity. The older son, of course, was the one who had played by the rules; he'd never left the farm, he figured that if anyone deserved his father's love it was he -- therefore it made no sense to him that #2 Son got the robe, the ring, the new shoes and the barbeque.
But grace is an exuberant source. God's love isn't about limits, it isn't about deserving; it's about overflowing. It's about new life -- it's about change. Most definitely, certainly change; following the Savior may be most difficult and challenging thing we sons and daughters have ever tried, regardless of our birth order -- but the gospel is the power, it is the source, for faithfulness.

And the church is the community that puts its trust in that exuberant source.
Amazing things happen when we do that. We grow together in grace when we do that.

One of you said something last week that got me thinking. At the time I was a bit flustered, I was also defensive; but as I thought about the comment I realized that it was perfectly fair to bring it up. More than that the comment was an invitation to examine my own views and the message of the gospel, how it speaks to our times, what it says to me, to us. The comment had to do with our managing to avoid at this church the issue of homosexuality, that we had steered clear of it rather deftly.

Later, when I allowed myself to think about this, I admitted that I have not wanted to speak about it and therefore need to take responsibility for the silence.
I have not been ready to say where I am on this matter of sexual preference, of sexual identity. For one thing, it is a matter that is so highly-charged and divisive in the church that one is easily misunderstood -- anything having to do with sexuality these days makes everyone uptight. We're also tend to label people according to their views; we take this hugely complex and mysterious issue of our sexuality -- something that is so profoundly good about us -- and make it a matter of simplistic morality, of self-righteousness and politics. What's more, we practically tear the Bible in half the way we use scripture texts to bolster the opinions we are unwilling to examine in the light of the larger message of the Bible. People on both sides of the homosexuality debate tend to do this. We have great difficulty coming together to search for truth.

Personally, I am still in process when it comes to my views on ordination, though I would not today vote to change our church's standards. I do hope I would have the courage to change my mind if the Spirit persuaded me otherwise. I believe keeping an open mind is important in itself; I have tried to do that. I imagine you have too. I imagine your views are diverse, which in my opinion is not an unhealthy thing. The church needs to be big enough for differences on this issue.
After all, the matter of the ordination of gays and lesbians first came to the General Assembly of our PC(USA) the year in 1978; it happened to be the year I was ordained. I imagine it will stay with our church as long as I am in it.

This is my church and I love it. I am grieved though when we find ourselves behaving like the culture we live in, so divided by our differences, instead of affirming that together we all need to be changed, we all need the unmerited grace of Jesus Christ, that he died for all of us, that we are all beggars, that our only hope is in him.

I believe that having love for one another is an urgent and a deeply Christian commitment; that civility, kindness, and compassion go together; that our neighbors -- all our neighbors -- are waiting to see in us the love they know is in Jesus Christ.

We all need grace to live out what we believe. What we do not need to fear is the source of this grace ever running dry. For God's love in Jesus Christ is lavish, effusive, and overflowing. Our faith in him is trust without reservation. Trust is where our growth lies. Being together in the community of the church is about trusting one another. This also is how we grow.

We come back to Paul and his word to the Galatians. They needed to understand -- it was of the greatest importance that they understand -- that the gospel, the good news of Jesus Christ, is a free gift. It is not a human thing.
It is not a set of rules, not even a set of beliefs. The gospel is not a formula, it is an invitation. And it is a source of great power. The gospel is the power of God in Christ that makes unimagined change possible -- change for good, change for love, change for justice, change for hope, change for joy.

If there is something we believe is not possible -- something for ourselves, or for a loved one or a friend; something we want so much for our church, or for our community; something that seems only dimly possible for our nation, or our world -- then that is what we are called to pray for and live for.

What are the words of Jesus the Holy Spirit will bring to mind when we need to hear them? Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.