Sermon for October 15th, 2023
Hebrews 3:1-6
1Therefore, brothers and sisters, holy partners in a heavenly calling, consider that Jesus, the apostle and high priest of our confession, 2was faithful to the one who appointed him, just as Moses also was faithful in all God’s house. 3Yet Jesus is worthy of more glory than Moses, just as the builder of a house has more honor than the house itself. 4(For every house is built by someone, but the builder of all things is God.) 5Now Moses was faithful in all God’s house as a servant, to testify to the things that would be spoken later. 6Christ, however, was faithful over God’s house as a son, and we are his house if we hold firm the confidence and the pride that belong to hope. (Hebrews 3:1-6)
Ecclesia Reformata, Semper Reformanda
For the month of October, we are celebrating our Reformed Presbyterian heritage, and taking a closer look at three historic mottoes or rallying cries that have shaped us as a denomination and as a church. We'll be looking at the mottoes as well as the doctrines and scriptures that inspired them. And because Presbyterians have always been a little bit nerdy, all three mottoes are in Latin, of course.
Today we begin with the longest one of the three: Ecclesia reformata, semper reformanda secundum verbum Dei. I'll translate that for you in just a little while, but for now, suffice it to say that this motto has to do with change. And change is hard.
I'm reminded of the story about a taxi-cab driver who was taking a passenger across town, when the passenger reached up and tapped the driver on the shoulder to ask him a question. The driver screamed, lost control of the car, nearly hit a bus, went up on the sidewalk, and stopped just inches from a shop window. For a second everything went quiet in the cab, then the driver said, "Look buddy, don’t ever do that again. You scared the daylights out of me!" The passenger apologized and said, "I didn’t realize that a little tap would scare you so much." The driver replied, "I'm sorry, it’s not really your fault. Today is my first day as a taxi-cab driver--for the last 25 years I've been driving a funeral hearse."
Change is hard. Especially when you're trying to change something that's been part of your identity for many years, or even many generations.
Our scripture passage today is from the Epistle to the Hebrews. As its name suggests, this letter was written to a Hebrew, or Jewish audience sometime during the last decades of the first century. It's a letter making a case for change. The opening of the letter reads: "Long ago God spoke to our ancestors in many and various ways by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by a Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, through whom he also created the worlds."
It's easy to think that somehow when Jesus showed up on the scene, Christianity sprang fully formed into the world and everyone who heard the message immediately embraced it, because it just made so much sense. But of course, that isn't true. If you've been following the teachings of Moses your whole life, and your parents followed the teachings of Moses, and your grandparents and great grandparents as far back as you can remember...and then someone comes along and tells you "Jesus is worthy of more glory than Moses" -- well, that's a bit of a tough sell. Jesus who? Greater than Moses? Right...
Change is hard. The author of Hebrews knew that, I suspect, and had his work cut out for him (or her--there's a rather convincing argument to be made that the Epistle to the Hebrews was written by Priscilla, a female apostle and a contemporary of Paul).
Fast forward about 1,000 years and the Jesus movement actually took off nicely, becoming the dominant religious belief system throughout the Mediterranean and most of Europe. In fact, some might say it took off too well. What began as a peaceful movement among some simple, uneducated fishermen now belonged to kings, emperors, and pontiffs. Christianity became the impetus for wars and crusades, it became just another way to exploit and control the masses.
And into this context stepped our 16th century heroes: Martin Luther, John Calvin, John Knox, William Tyndale and others. They said that the church needed to be re-formed for the good of the common person, not the powerful elites (that's why we call them reformers, and their movement the Reformation). As a reward for their attempt to change things, Luther was excommunicated, Calvin was driven out of his home and country never to return, Knox was imprisoned and tortured, and Tyndale was burned at the stake.
Change is hard. And the Reformers fought hard for change.
When their ideas, their reforms, their changes finally began to take hold, the Reformers recognized a new danger: If they were successful, too successful, in another thousand years their ideas, their reforms, their changes might become the new normal, the new tyranny, the new tool of the powerful elites. And so they enshrined a basic principle in their all of their teaching. John Knox (the founder of the Presbyterian church) put it this way, in the Scots confession:
"We do not think any policy or order of ceremonies can be appointed for all ages, times, and places; for as ceremonies which men have devised are but temporal, so they may, and ought to be, changed, when they foster superstition rather than edify the Kirk."
In other words, when we get so attached to our rituals, our habits, and our customs that we lose sight of why we started doing them in the first place, they become superstition. They become false idols. They begin to work against the very things they were designed to accomplish.
Change is hard, but change is necessary. And not just once, but over and over again, continually.
From their experience, a motto emerged among the 16th century Reformers: Ecclesia reformata, semper reformanda secundum verbum Dei. It means "The church reformed, and always being reformed according to the Word of God.
If your church (or your marriage, or your career, or your scientific understanding of the world) isn't constantly changing, constantly growing, constantly adapting to new circumstances...then it's actually dying, decaying, and probably doing more damage than good in the world.
But...before you get too excited about changing everything, listen again to the second half of that motto: Ecclesia reformata, semper reformanda (the church reformed and forever being reformed) secundum verbum Dei (according to the Word of God). That often gets left out when this motto is quoted today, but it's important: The reformers did not advocate any or every change simply for the sake of change itself.
They believed in change for one very specific purpose: to bring us closer to God's word--and in the Reformed tradition, God's word is more than just the Bible. God's living word is Jesus. So we don't change our church (or our marriage, our career, our scientific understanding of the world) to be whatever we think or feel like it should be on a Wednesday afternoon. We change to bring ourselves into harmony with the living Son of God, the creator of the universe, the ultimate source of all that is good and true.
Fast forward one more time to the year 1955, El Paso Texas. A new and dynamic young pastor had just arrived at First Presbyterian Church--the Rev. Bill Burroughs--and already he was telling his congregation they needed to change. They needed to leave behind their beautiful red-brick building at the corner of Yandell and Mesa, and move further up the mountain to a new location, to build a new and bigger building. This, of course, was crazy talk. Our church is where our parents worshiped, and our grandparents, and our great-grandparents--they built this building. You can't expect us to leave it! And why build a NEW sanctuary? We can't even fill THIS one up. And we'll never be able to afford it.
Rev. Burroughs preached (often) from today's scripture passage from Hebrews, in order to remind his congregation that God's house was not built from bricks and mortar, but rather from the people who inhabit it: Hebrews 3:6, "We are his house if we hold firm the confidence and the pride that belong to hope."
And slowly, with confidence, pride, and hope, the people of First Presbyterian Church...changed. They made the move to Murchison street, built this sanctuary, and built a faithful ministry to the people of El Paso--a ministry that long outlasted Bill Burroughs.
Ecclesia reformata semper reformanda secundum verbum Dei.
The church reformed, and always reforming, according to the word of God.
So now here we are, here YOU are, knee-deep into the 21st century. If we are to honor our 16th century Reformed heritage, our 20th century El Paso heritage, then we should STILL be asking ourselves (as a church, in our relationships, in our understanding of the world) how we're stuck, clinging to the habits and rituals and traditions of the last century? And we should be asking God (every day!) to change us, to re-form us, to draw us closer to his Word and his purpose for our lives.
Today, it's our turn to reform. It's our turn to rebuild.
Hebrews teaches us that "the builder of a house has more honor than the house itself. For every house is built by someone, but the builder of all things is God."
Some churches build buildings. Some churches build ministries or schools. Some churches build people and relationships.
Whatever we build, people of First Presbyterian Church, in whatever ways we change, may the change bring honor and glory to the builder of all things, the one who inspires the change, the one who formed us and who reforms us again and again and again. Thanks be to God.
