May 21, 2006

Remembering the Past While Anticipating the Future

Isaiah 43:16-21
Philippians 3:4b-14
John 12:1-8

As you can see, this is another "R" rated sermon, standing for "repeat." This one is actually a substantial rewrite (as are most of the "repeats"). I preached it for the first time in April 1995, just a short while before we vacated our church sanctuary and the office space in what was then called Pilgrim House to have major reconstruction done. It was a time of significant change for our church, something like what's happening now and will be happening in the near future. Though most people were supportive of the changes then, and are at least understanding of them now, even so, there were and are feelings of uneasiness about what may be coming down the road. There is also a feeling some of you have had, and I have personally experienced it myself, a feeling of grief - grief over what has been in the past that will now be gone or changed.

For the past two or three months, as I have been packing up my belongings in my office in anticipation of moving full time down to Cape Cod (and 11 years ago it was a move into a trailer on the church's front lawn), as I've been taking pictures and other memorabilia off the walls and shelves in my office, I have experienced several times an overwhelming sense of grief. Though I am eagerly looking forward to this new time in life for Claudia and me, still, I've had aching feelings of nostalgia and loss, both very normal feelings. My office below the sanctuary (and before in Pilgrim House) is a place of many good memories - of conversations with prospective brides and grooms, counseling folks in their times of need, having small group meetings there, sermon preparation, study, prayer - all this will be gone, at least in this setting.

Many of us had similar feelings about the old sanctuary, vestry, parlor, and kitchen back then. Now, it's hard to even remember what they looked like. This is how change often works. Yet, most of us, though we intellectually understand the importance and need for change in our lives, on a gut level, deep inside, we resist change. I'm preaching this sermon today partly to reassure all of us that our reactions and feelings are normal.

Our lesson from Isaiah this morning tells about how the Lord is about to do a new thing. The setting for the passage is important. The people of Israel are in exile in Babylon. It's a time in their history filled with despair and hopelessness. But the prophet helps them remember a glorious moment in their past - their miraculous exodus from Egyptian bondage through the path God provided in the waters of the Red Sea. And then, even more important, Isaiah proclaims a much needed vision for the future, a new thing that will spring forth, a way in the wilderness, and a promised return to their homeland. The prophet encourages them to remember their past, while inspiring them also to anticipate a wonderful future.

But there is a corrective in Isaiah and also in our lesson from Philippians. First, the prophet allows the people to reminisce about the exodus and the liberation God provided for them; but right after this, he seems to contradict himself when he says, "Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old." And Paul in describing his new life in Christ talks about "forgetting what lies behind" as he strains forward to what lies ahead. Are they implying that we should forget the past as we plunge headlong into the future? No, I don't think so. What they are saying, I believe, is that we cannot dwell on the past. There comes a point when we must move on, or we will get stuck in the past. Ideally in any situation in our lives, we can draw strength from the past, from our memories, from the traditions that helped form us, from the people who nurtured and taught us. We can also learn from our mistakes. All this enables us to move forward into the future.

Sometimes it's hard to know where to place the emphasis, on the past or the future, which direction to turn. Lucy says to Charlie Brown, "Life is like a deck chair. Some face it backwards and look at where they've been; some face it forward so they can see where they are going; and some put it sideways so they can see where they are now." Charlie Brown with a shrug of resignation replies, "I can't even get mine unfolded." (i) Do you ever feel that way? I do, sometimes. When we're going through times of turmoil, whether in society, in the church, in our personal lives, wherever, sometimes it feels like we don't know what end is up, or even how to get our deck chair unfolded.

We certainly have seen some major changes globally in recent years: some countries coming together and others breaking apart; ideologies changing; severe weather devastation around the world; an increase in terrorism, even on our own shores; and the list could go on and on. In our own country, we have seen many changes of which we are all aware: politics; the war; resetting priorities; how our society looks upon various social issues; and this list could go on and on. Within our own church family we are experiencing changes, the most obvious being the change in pastoral leadership soon to happen. But there are other changes that have happened and will be happening as you all continue to move on into the future. And within our personal lives, most of us have experienced many changes: children growing up and eventually leaving home; changes in relationships; sometimes divorce; long-term debilitating illnesses; death, the ultimate life-changer; moving from one locale to another; job changes; economic and financial upheavals; dealing with troubled teens; caring for aging parents; and again, this list could go on and on. Change is inevitable; without it we will stagnate and die. But not all change is welcome, that's for sure.

Changes of whatever kind often leave us numb and confused. No wonder we resist them; no wonder we would just as soon dwell in the safe, secure, comfortable past. How tempting it would be to push the rewind button and roll the film of life backward, back to when life was simpler, where we could undo all those things we messed up, and do all the things we should have done. But life and our faith teach us that we can't go back, and it's probably just as well.

One of the symbols of Easter is that of a caterpillar emerging from a cocoon and being transformed into a beautiful butterfly. When we stay in the past, we get stuck in that cocoon, and this can be very restricting. Further, that cocoon of the past can be a heavy burden to carry around. For many of us, there are former days and experiences and regrets that weigh us down and hang heavily upon our hearts. We yearn to be free of these burdens; and by God's grace we can be. The Apostle Paul had this kind of burdensome past. In many ways he had much to boast about - a good pedigree, well educated, a status position - but there were parts of his past most unworthy. And yet, on the road to Damascus, Paul had a real, honest to goodness transformation experience, a complete turnaround. In Christ he became a new creation. Paul had been worse than a caterpillar; he'd been a worm! (ii) But by God's grace, he became a butterfly.

If change is inevitable, if we can't go back, how can we cope with the changes we all experience? Let me suggest several coping mechanisms - and by the way, these are for me as much as for you. First, if we are feeling grief, we need to acknowledge it. If we are grieving, but we deny that we are, it will just fester and be a problem later. If we hurt, if we are in pain, for whatever reason, we need to allow ourselves to experience it. Growth does not usually happen without some pain. I don't know whether you ever thought about it, but there's an "ow" in the middle of growth. (iii)

Second, it's okay to draw upon the strengths of the past, but we shouldn't dwell there; we shouldn't cling to the past. Let's indulge in nostalgia, but only for a little while. Then let's prepare to move on. The only way to receive the new is to let go of the old. It's scary, it's risky, but it's liberating. Third, let's not let the past inhibit our future. I'm a great believer in not reinventing the wheel, but just because something worked in the past doesn't necessarily mean it will work in the future. Forget yesterday enough so that there is room for today and tomorrow. Adaptability and the willingness to do something new despite the past are critical for success. Further, to resist change is to deny ourselves the experience of living the adventure and wonder that God wants for us.

Fourth, (this one's especially for all of you) don't forget the importance of the Christian community. When we're on a hike through personal or corporate wildernesses, it's important to recognize that we are not alone. When trudging through the wilderness, we need to stick together. Even when we're lost, especially when we're lost, we need to stick together. It's important to stick together because we in the church are responsible for each other. This is what we are supposed to be about. Stick together. Finally, and most important, in the midst of change, uncertainty, despair, or pain, let's remember that God also walks with us. Though we can't see into the future, we do know that God is leading us, and we can trust that God knows the way. By trusting in God we can be assured that we won't be overwhelmed by the sufferings of today, nor locked into the mistakes of yesterday, nor held back from the future by the restrictions of the past or present. (iv) With God beside us on the journey there are infinite possibilities ahead. So, let us remember and honor the past, while anticipating the future with confidence and hope, for indeed God is "about to do a new thing." Amen.

The Pilgrim Church of Duxbury
Rev. Kenneth C. Landall

i Aha!, 4/2/95.
ii William M. Schwein, The Minister's Annual Manual, 1994-95, 4/2/95.
iii Earl C. Davis, Abingdon Preaching Manual, 1995, 4/2/95.
iv Henry E. Roberts, Biblical Preaching Journal, Spring, 1995, 4/2/95.