Sunday's Message - It Does Matter – Why I’m Reformed

Here's an updated message I first offered during the celebration service in Southminster Presbyterian Church, Indianapolis, Indiana, on Reformation Sunday, 1999.

Romans 3:21-28

But now apart from law a right relationship from God has been made clear and this is bore witness by the Law and the Prophets, that a right relationship from God is through trust in Jesus Christ to all those who trust. For there is no differentiation. For all sin and fall short of God’s glory, when they are put in a right relationship without charge by his grace through the liberation of those who are in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a means of atonement through trust in his blood to be proof of his [desire for a] right relation through the remission of the sins that were committed beforehand [and] by the tolerance of God to prove his [desire for a] right relationship in the present time, that he desires a right relationship and puts in a right relationship the one who has trust in Jesus.

Then where is boasting? It’s excluded. Based on what law? On works? No, but through the law of trust. For we maintain that a person is put in a right relationship by trust, apart from works of the law.

It Does Matter – Why I’m Reformed

Back a ways, maybe twenty years ago, I was having lunch with a new minister to the community. And we talked about all kind of things. And of course, eventually we got to the church. And I remember we talked about the issues we faced and the concerns we had. And we shared with one another some of the things that we’d like to see happen and even some techniques and strategies we were using. Now that’s what we talked about, and let me tell you, it was very nice. But you know, after it was over, I felt a little empty. And as I was driving back here, going over our conversation, it hit me: we’d talked about all kinds of stuff and a lot of it about the church. But in that whole conversation, we never talked about theology. I mean, outside of some very broad and vague references to God and to Christ, we never really talked about what we both believed or about how our traditions could compliment one another or even why we were ministers in our particular denominations. Although we covered almost everything else, we acted as though when it comes to theology, it just doesn’t matter.

But you know, when you think about it, we were reflecting something that I believe is a reality in the modern church. I mean, let’s get real; for most American Christians, theology doesn’t matter, not really. And I think I understand why. You see, for a lot of people, if they even know what the word means, theology seem too academic, too cold, too impersonal. I had a guy tell me a little while ago that he didn’t believe in all this theological stuff. He just believed in Jesus. You see, for him there was a difference; believing in Jesus had nothing to do with theology. Now that’s one. And I’ll tell you, I also think a lot of people see subjects other than theology as, well, more important to the church. I mean, good gracious, when you think about a church, things like how they worship or what kind of activities they offer and of course whether you enjoy being there, those things are often far more important than the beliefs that may lie behind the worship and activities and the positive feelings. And so you see, for a lot of people, theology really doesn’t matter all that much.

And as a result, like it or not, theology gets pushed aside, even when it comes to our relationship with God. What stands as the foundation gets shoved to the back burner, and we end up focusing on the surface, relying far more on things like words and cliches and personal feelings than on anything offered in Scripture. And as a result often we end up buying into to ideas that are comfortable and popular, and I’m talking about a relationship with God that has all kinds of benefits at almost no cost, a faith that has both the flavor and nutritional value of candy corn. But not only that, we can also be drawn religious systems that sure sounds Christian, my goodness, that use all the right words and cliches, that draw all kinds of people, but which lead some very un-Christian feelings: like pride and self-righteous when we feel spiritual and guilt and fear when we don’t.

Now, I think that’s what’s happening in the modern church, maybe to some of us right here. Therefore, on this Reformation Sunday, we’re going to talk about theology, about how we can see God and Jesus Christ, because I’ll be right up front with you, I think it does matter. And in particular, we going to look at a kind of theology that’s grounded in the letters of Paul and written about by great preachers and reformers like Martin Luther and John Calvin and Karl Barth, a way to view God that’s not only profoundly Biblical but which can change your life, because I’ll tell you, it changed mine. And for that reason, during the rest of the sermon, I’m going talk about what’s called reformed theology, and I’m going to do it in a way that’s a little different, at least for me. You see, I’m going to share a little bit of my life as a Christian. In other words, I’m going to give you my personal testimony.

Because, I’ll tell you, when it comes to how I see the basis for my relationship with God and understand the work of Jesus Christ, in other words, when it comes to theology, I am not ashamed to admit that it does matter to me, and that’s why I’m reformed and that’s why I’m a minister in the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.). It does matter. 

But you know, that’s not what I would have said forty years ago. Although I was raised in the southern part of this denomination, when I was about 15, my father had a religious experience, pulled us out of public school and Ocean View Presbyterian and put my brother, sister and I in Norfolk Christian and the Tabernacle Church. Now, I recognize that his motives were good and I’m not going to criticize either the school or the church. Unfortunately, though, while there, something not so great happened to me, not to my brother or sister, just to me. I was drawn into to a kind of Christianity that looked and sounded wonderful on the surface, and that had all kinds of appeal to a teenager who wanted some solid structure to hold on to and some very clear rules to follow, but which had, at it’s core, some ideas that really damaged and distorted by life. You see, once you cut through the words and the cliches, I was taught to believe that my relationship with God was grounded on what I had done. It was based on the decisions that I made and the words that I used and feelings that I experienced. And although I’d have said in a heart-beat, that God was in charge and grace was a gift and faith was different from work, I always tacked on a “but,” to remind me and whoever I was talking to that faith meant doing and saying and feeling certain things, and that grace really wasn’t a gift, and that when you get right down to it, God really wasn’t it charge, certainly not of salvation. Those things were in my hands, under my control, to get or to lose based on my actions. Now that’s what I believed sincerely, honestly, passionately. And although I kept a grin on my face, (I mean, Christians are suppose to be happy all the time, right?) I was miserable. My gosh, it was like I had a dual personality. When I was doing what I was supposed to do, I was proud and I was self-righteous and I was incredibly judgmental. And why not, I was going to heaven, and you probably weren’t. But those periods of righteous arrogance were few and far between, because most of the time I was unbelievably guilty and scared. I mean, give me a break, you tell a teenage boy, with raging hormones, that you had to get saved and that God always knew what you were thinking... and if you didn’t measure up, he’d drop you into Hell in a heartbeat, not exactly a formula for peace and tranquility. But that’s what I believed.

And I believed it passionately until something truly remarkable happened, something that literally changed my life. And it all started because of Christmas carols. For reasons I never understood, the Tabernacle Church didn’t sing that kind of stuff, I guess they weren’t spiritual enough, but I’ll tell you, that was something I really missed from my childhood. And so, in December of 1979, I went back to Ocean View Presbyterian Church, with two goals in mind. First, I was going to sing “Silent Night” and “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing” and “Joy to the World” for the first time in years. And second, while I was there, I would convert the Presbyterians, starting with the minister. You see, and this is interesting, although Christianity made me feel rotten most of the time, I still felt the need to share it with others. I guess misery really does love company. And so I started working on the minister. We’d meet for lunch and I asked him all those tricky questions designed to make a person feel uncomfortable and I used all the individual verses, taken hopelessly out of context, to get him to admit he was wrong. That’s what I used to do, and looking back, I was a real jerk. 

But in spite of that, for some reason, he took an interest in me. Maybe he could see that under the Christian grin, I was very unhappy. Anyway, between my speeches, he’d share with me something he called reformed theology. In fact, he told the same kind of things Paul wrote to the Romans in the passage we read: “But now apart from law a right relationship from God has been made clear and this is bore witness by the Law and the Prophets, that a right relationship from God is through trust in Jesus Christ to all those who trust.” In other words he explained to me who we really are, that there is “no differentiation. For all sin and fall short of God’s glory.” And he also told me about what God had done, how we “are put in a right relationship without charge by his grace through the liberation of those who are in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a means of atonement through trust in his blood to be proof of his [desire for a] right relation through the remission of the sins that were committed beforehand [and] by the tolerance of God to prove his [desire for a] right relationship in the present time, that he desires a right relationship and puts in a right relationship the one who has trust in Jesus.” And he told me what that meant, as Paul wrote: “Then where is boasting? It’s excluded. Based on what law? On works? No, but through the law of trust. For we maintain that a person is put in a right relationship by trust, apart from works of the law.” In other words, Jim Carriker shared with me good news, that God is in charge. And that our relationship with him is grounded on his grace. And that faith wasn’t a lot of stuff to do or say or even believe. No, it was simply trust: trust in what God had done through Christ, trust in response to the relationship God had already established with me, and trust that regardless of what I do or say, God wouldn’t let me go. 

You see, that minister shared with me theology, and like I said, it changed my life, because maybe for the first time I was free: man, I was free for the first time in my Christian life from that cycle of pride and guilt, because when it comes to my relationship with God, I have no reason to boast or to be afraid. And I was free to accept myself and others as we really are, warts included, as sinners saved by grace, as believers who are trying to say “thank you” to the God who’s done so much for us, and as non-believers who are loved by that same God, they just don’t know it yet. Not only did I no longer have to judge the spirituality of my neighbor, I didn’t have to smile all the time to look like a Christian. And in a real way, this gave me the freedom to do what God had called and equipped me to do. You see, if Jim hadn’t shared with me reformed theology, there’s no way I’d be a minister today.

And so you see, that’s my story, my testimony. And although I know that for a lot of Christians, theology doesn’t matter and that other issues have become more important than how they understand their relationship with God and that like me, too many sincere and dedicated people are drawn into religious systems that lead to pride and guilt, that’s not the case with me any more, and I sincerely hope it’s not the case with you either. Because, I’ll tell you, I’m a different person because of reformed theology. I mean, my life changed when I realized that my relationship with God was grounded on what God has already done rather than on what I was expected to do. And that’s not only why I’m reformed, but why I can say with conviction and passion, that brothers and sisters, it does matter.