The End of the Beginning

Today I want to spend some time speaking to you about my spiritual journey. Since this is my last Sunday I want to share three key lessons that I have learned thus far in life. They all have to do with change. Changes I have had to make in my thinking. I share these things not because this is what your spiritual journey should look like, but simply to use my life as an example to show how we are a part of a much larger story than our own. That God is continually changing us. Whether we realize it or not we are an actor, we play a role, in the story of God. And the story of God is about drawing us closer to Him. I want to share with you how over the 27 years of my life God has drawn me closer to him. God has provided many beginnings and in each of those opportunities . . . when they come to an end, I have been transformed.

You may have seen the title of this sermon in your bulletin. I named this sermon, “The End of the Beginning.” I chose this for a couple of reasons. First, one of the lectionary texts for today is the very final verses of the book of Revelation, the final verses in the entire Bible. Second, today is the final Sunday of the Easter season in the church calendar. Lastly, today is my last Sunday at Hillcrest. All of these things are ends. But while they are ends, they mark ends to times of transformation. They leave us changed. We are no longer quite the person we were when we began. Maybe there is no more Bible to read. Maybe there is no more Easter season and next week is Pentecost. Maybe I won’t be back here next Sunday. But these ends are not sad. They are momentous. They mark periods of change. They signify, hopefully, that God continues to mold who we are. And there is more to come. More beginnings to encounter. More opportunities to seize.

Maybe you have heard it said, “change or die.” This is applicable to our Christian life. Unless you continuously change, unless we continually allow God to mold us into new creations, into people who more fully exemplify Christ . . . we die inside. Our Christian journey grows stale. We are lukewarm. Change is essential to the Christian life.

John, the writer of Revelation, does not end the book by saying, “well that is it.” God’s Word is done. Nothing more to say. If you want to experience more God you better flip back through the rest of the Bible again. And when I leave Hillcrest, I am not headed to the beach. I am not simply saying, well that wraps up my ministry. I had a great time, but God is done with me.

No, the last verses in the book of revelation and my final Sunday here at Hillcrest are simply the end of a beginning. The Bible and the events it recorded are the beginning of our faith journey, my time here at Hillcrest has been the beginning of my ministry. But we move on. There is more to do.

It is this journey, what we do after we have begun that I want to talk to you about today. I want to connect us to a story that never ends. The story of God molding us into more obedient disciples. The story of how God repeatedly uses our life experiences to teach us more about himself. And since this is my last Sunday, I am going to tell you the three most important things that have changed me thus far in my life.

Speaking broadly the Bible is the story of God. It is the story of how God communicates with the world, what he has been up to in the universe. It is the story of how God loves us and draws us to himself.

But as we know the story does not end there. The Bible is the beginning. Somehow, thousands of years later God is still at work. He is at work here in Hillcrest Covenant Church in DeKalb, Illinois. The book of Revelation is simply the end of the beginning of God’s work.

What I want to encourage us to do today is to understand our role in God’s story. I want us to reexamine our lives, to re-author the story of our life from God’s perspective. What is God teaching us? Where are our beginnings? Where did those beginnings finally end? Do we embrace new beginnings? I want to move us from the small story of our lives, to the enormous story of God’s work in the world, of which we are a part. Of which God is continually renewing us and making us begin again.

I want to talk about my life in three stages . . . I want to tell you about 3 beginnings in my life that eventually came to an end . . . I am going to talk about: the early years (some of you are already thinking this is crazy – the early years, he still looks fifteen), the college years, the Hillcrest time.

So let’s start in a small town in West Central Illinois. I grew up in a Roman Catholic Church and went to 1^st through 8^th grades at a Roman Catholic school . . . and my first grade teacher, Mrs. Teefey just happens to be here today, “hi, mom!”

Anyways, elementary school went fine and I headed off to the public high school. I did really well in my classes and joined the National Honor Society and I played basketball and football, and even managed to become Homecoming King. . . things were going well. I had a great time in high school.

But as I look back on those years, one thing sticks out in my mind. I did not understand the nature of God’s love. I was a good kid, I didn’t do much to get into trouble . . . but I did these things because I wanted to please God. I wanted God to love me. I wanted God to be proud of me. The thing is that I wanted to earn God’s love.

You see I funneled my understanding of God through life experience. If I wanted to make a teacher like me, I studied hard, I listened in class, I was nice to other students. And if I wanted to make a coach like me, I hustled, I never missed practice, I listened to criticism and changed accordingly. I knew how to make other people like me and I thought I knew how to make God love me too. I was intense, I worked tirelessly to be “good,” I fretted continuously over what others thought of me, I wanted to be known as nice, I wanted to be a “good guy.” Now these aren’t bad things, it’s good to be a good person, but the root of my desires was not healthy. I was fighting an impossible fight against sin. I was scrambling furiously towards a perfection that could not be reached.

I did not understand God very well. Do you know that God loves you more right now than he will ever love you your entire life? Think about this. I don’t care what you did this morning. I don’t care what you did last night. Right now. As you sit there in your pew, God’s love is overflowing for you. You don’t need to earn God’s love. God already loves you.

Maybe you remember the Youth Sunday skit we did and the role played by Josh Howells. Josh was Bob WorkALot. When I wrote about Bob WorkALot, I was writing about me in my high school years. Bob wanted God’s “golden ticket of love” and Bob believed that he had to work endlessly to earn that golden ticket. One thing Bob thought was that if he stepped out into the aisle here and jumped up and touched the lights and got a few bugs while he was up there that he would earn God’s “golden ticket of love.” So he tried and tried to touch that light. But he couldn’t. He was distraught, all that work for nothing. But if you remember Bob went and began to complain to a friend that earning the ticket was hopeless . . . and then the friend noticed something in Bob’s back pocket. It was the “golden ticket of love.” Bob had had the ticket all along. He was working tirelessly and hopelessly for something he already had.

It is that way with God’s love. You have it. You don’t have to earn it. We do good works not because God needs us to, but because our experience of God’s love is so great, that it overflows from us. Did you get that. We love, we do good, because God first loved us. God enables us to do good. We don’t do good to get God. We get God in order to do good. That is why when broken people come to the church we don’t make them reform their lives first. We want them to be in a relationship with God first. Then God will help them deal with their sin.

The next phase in my life was the college years. Now I can see the high school students laughing. The college years, that is most of your life. The college years are officially over now. After 10 years, yes a decade and over 300 credit hours, I am finally done. Anyways, when I went away to college at the University of Illinois I encountered a far more diverse world than I had ever experienced before. For example, from kindergarten to my senior year in high school the only minorities I had had in my schools were foreign exchange students. I desired and needed to broaden my horizons. So I did.

But with my exposure to ethnic, religious, political and other kinds of diversity came questions. What did I really believe about myself, the world, and especially God? Did I believe what I did simply because that is how I was raised? Was I right? If I was wrong, who was right? For the first time in my life I was confronted daily with others who thought my beliefs were bogus and I wondered whether they were right.

I began to explore. I joined far too many organizations and made countless friends who I stayed up late with talking about life. Ultimately I became involved in a campus church and eventually played a large role in various aspects of its leadership. (actually I am proud to say that Aaron Rasmussen and Jeremy Geidel attend this church – I actually called down to some old friends and had them call Aaron and Jeremy when they got on campus) Another organization I became involved in right away was the fraternity I helped to start. Myself and 5 other guys founded a social fraternity at Illinois. The fraternity grew quickly and by the time we graduated we had 40-50 guys (now they are up to 150). The fraternity was my mission field. It was to be my place of impact on others and the campus.

But my eagerness and simple minded faith did not work well with others that had had very different experiences with God, church and Christianity. You see my approach to ministry in the early years was convert, convert, convert. So I talked regularly with guys in the fraternity and others on campus about hell. I wanted to save them . . . not for Jesus, but from eternal damnation. This surely gave me a sense of urgency. By my sophomore year of college, I would walk up to strangers on the Quad at the school and ask if someone would complete a spiritual interest survey. Many would agree. My first question was, “If you were to die today, would you go to heaven or hell.” I would then try to convince them that they were going to hell and that they must repent now or endure eternal damnation. Not a great approach. You see my eagerness had gotten the best of me. For me faith had become only about heaven or hell. You were in or you were out, and that was all that mattered. My faith was too simple. I tried to scare people into repentance.

I presented the Gospel as if Jesus was corralling cattle into a pasture with a cattle prod. And we better get into that pasture or Jesus’ is going to electrocute us. But that is not the Gospel. The Gospel is what it says in verse 17 of the 22^nd chapter in Revelation: “The Spirit and the bride say, “Come.” Let anyone who hears this say, “Come.” Let anyone who is thirsty come. Let anyone who desires drink freely from the water of life.” We are not being chased by fire, but welcomed with open arms. We are invited by Christ to experience his love and goodness.

I learned that people are not brought into a relationship with Jesus Christ through fear or intimidation but through relationship. The fraternity gave me an opportunity to live this out. By my junior and senior years of college I was holding both a spiritual discussion group and a Bible study in the fraternity. And my approach was to develop relationships with the guys. In the spiritual discussion group I had no agenda. I came up with some very general questions like does God exist? Or is there such a thing as altruism? But if someone had something else they wanted to discuss I went with it.

What had changed was that I was no longer God’s sole avenue of salvation. No longer was I responsible for someone’s eternal destiny. I was God’s instrument. My experience of God, one of love, one of peace, one of kindness, one of understanding, compassion . . . that experience was to characterize how I treated the lost. And a remarkable thing began to happen . . . God began to change people’s hearts, not because of something I said, not because of fear, not because of some apologetic proof . . . but simply because through me others had seen a glimpse of God.

You see your evangelism, your ministry (yes you all have ministries whether you know it or not – your work place, your friends, your social networks – those are your mission fields) is about how you reflect your experience of God to others. When you talk, do others see God in what you say? When you act, do others see God in what you do? When you make decisions, do others see God in how you deliberate? People are scared of evangelism because they don’t know what to say. That is ridiculous, it has nothing to do with what you say. It has to do with who you are, not who you act to be (people can see right through that), but who you are. And if you are a child of God, if you are a recipient of God’s love and you are, then all you have to do is be yourself. Let God do the work. You are the light of the world, because God is your light. You are the salt of the earth, because God is your salt. It’s not you, it’s God. Others will know you are Christians by your love . . . by a love that was given to you by God.

The last significant period in my life I want to talk to you about is the Hillcrest years. Now those come to end today after 5 years, 30,000 miles, one dead car, and countless experiences that will forever shape who I am as a pastor and a person.

Take for instance, a particular tough day when I had just started my internship. I had stayed up until 2AM or so to finish a paper, got up at 5AM to play basketball at the seminary, went to class all day, and then drove from Chicago to DeKalb to spend time with Pastor Todd and lead Senior High fellowship. I got to DeKalb around 4:30PM and was working in the Senior High room. Pastor Todd came in to chat . . . but I was sound asleep with my head on the Senior High table and drool pouring out of my mouth. Pastor Todd tapped me on the shoulder and said, “uhh, Dan . . .” I jumped to attention immediately and panicked I was about to be fired. I tried to act like I was praying, but Pastor Todd wasn’t buying it. I was so embarrassed, but Pastor Todd graciously acted like he didn’t notice. And I acted like the drenched table was just spilt water.

Or how about the first time that I assisted Pastor Todd with the communion service. The bread had been distributed to the congregation and Pastor Todd looked to me and said, “go ahead.” I said, “what?” He said, “Go ahead.” Pastor Todd wanted me to go ahead and say, “Take and eat the body of Christ.” Confused, I just ate the bread. Pastor Todd laughed and said the words himself.

I have done other embarrassing things too. I jumped into the frozen Lake Geneva at Covenant Harbor Bible Camp. I danced ridiculous dances to entertain the Senior High. I tripped over my stole walking up to make announcements. But things haven’t all been embarrassing. I had the honor of marrying Gene and Sharalynn Kowitz. Dana and I were able to have Pastor Bernie baptize Adelaide here. My memories of Hillcrest are plentiful.

And God has taught me something valuable during my time here as well. The Gospel of Jesus Christ is not about ideas. It’s not about thoughts. It is not about theories. Or Greek or Hebrew . . . ultimately the Gospel of Jesus Christ is about people. People, all of us, who are participants in a story much larger than Hillcrest Covenant Church, much larger than DeKalb, much larger than the United States, we are a part of a story that started well before all of that. We are apart of a story that began with God.

Through interactions I have had with members of this church, with the youth . . . I have learned that theological ideals can only take me so far . . . ultimately my theological understandings must have a practical application. I now believe that my role is to connect us with God’s story. Where we fit in God’s plan for the world. My task is not just to impart knowledge, but to increase participation with God.

Have you ever turned on a movie about half way through it? You know the feeling. You feel disinterested. You’re a little confused about what is going on. Well our lives are that way when we start our stories in the wrong place. Our stories don’t start with our birth, but begin with human creation. If all that you understand about your beginning is your mother, you are missing something. Your beginning is as a creature created in the image of God. We must broaden our perspectives. We are not the stars of our own stories, but are role-players in the same big story.

The book of Revelation is the final book of the Bible. And chapter 22 is the final chapter of the book. But the Bible is not an ending. In verse 13 of chapter 22, it says in the words of Jesus, “I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End.” God is everything. Our movement in God’s story is a bunch of beginnings and endings. And as we move through God’s story we are continuously being changed.

This conflicts with our modern culture. Our world tell us . . . believe in you . . . don’t change. Stay true to you . . . but Christians have different understanding. Change. Change. Change. Find sin in your life. Find areas of pride. Find growing edges. And change. Become more Christ-like. We become more Christ-like by connecting with God’s story. By understanding who he created us to be and by using his Word to refine who we are.

I put a quote by Henri Nouwen at the top of today’s bulletin. It says, “Spirituality is the journey out of the microcosm into the macrocasm.” Our faith, our spirituality is a movement from the small story of our life into the profound story of God. The profound story of God has no permanent end . . . only new beginnings that draw to a close. The end is not something that despairs us, but gives us hope. We are not said at endings, but grateful that through them we have been changed. We continue to be a new person. We continue to grow in understanding of the profoundly “good” God that we worship.