March 29, 2009
Jeremiah 31: 31-34
Ezekiel 36: 22-28
John 12: 20-26
"We Must Lose the Walls"
Twenty-five years ago I preached what I thought was a terrific sermon based on the "I will give you a new heart" text from Jeremiah. After the service, a wonderful old curmudgeon named Fred came up to me and asked: "So, where are all these new hearts? What is God doing? Just biding his time? Where are all the new hearts God promised?"
I had no answer. I've never forgotten the question. Every time I read of a new war, a new act of violence or fraud or injury or self-righteousness gone wrong, I remember Fred's question. So, where are all the new hearts God promised? What on earth has been God doing?
I still have no snappy reply, no easy answer. But I do have a response. I could have said to Fred, "God is making those new hearts right now and right here in church. God makes new hearts every generation. As each generation fashions its own hearts of stone, God works to remake them into hearts of flesh, hearts of love. And the people, the people here in church, are working with God right now in that great creative effort." I could have said that. It would not have change Fred's mind. But it would have been true.
If it was true then, it surely must be true now. We here this morning, with God's gracious help, are working with God to make new hearts.
The point is this: The making of a new heart, the replacement of our hearts of stone, is not a quick divine surgical procedure. It is not a sudden replacement of an old stony heart with a used newer heart. The heart that Jeremiah and Ezekiel hoped for was a brand new heart, a transformed heart. It was a heart completely changed from one that could see only itself to one that is always inclined towards God. It is a long and arduous process, but this making of a new heart is immensely rewarding and life giving.
I imagine the process goes something like this: We begin early to build walls around our hearts to protect them. But these walls, built to keep our hearts safe, serve mostly to keep our hearts from knowing the softening love of God. Behind the wall we build our hearts become hard as stone.
We build walls around our hearts. We learn to reject and remain aloof from those who are different. We learn to make distinctions as to who is better or worse, handsome or ugly. We learn early that some are born with entitlements that others are rightly denied. We learn to turn a blind eye to need, to turn away from suffering and to blame the one who suffers for her misfortune.
We learn early to always be on guard for those who would take from us, who would diminish us in any way. We learn to be afraid, to protect, to attack. We learn to horde because someone always wants what we want. We learn to mistrust each other. We learn to trust in the gods of success, power, authority, force and privilege. We learn to make God in our image: a God of good order, proper manners, good taste and a sense of what is right that happens to match ours to a "T".
As we learn these lessons and more, we build up walls around our hearts, walls that make sure our hearts stay focused always on us. We spend enormous amounts of time and energy constructing these walls as if our survival depends upon them.
Now, if our survival is God's goal for us, (and many seem to believe this) then we are fine with God. The stronger the walls the better our relationship with God.
But I am afraid our survival is not God's goal for us. God seems much more interested in this: That we learn to love God and our neighbor with all our heart and soul and might. And this takes time; perhaps a lifetime.
God seems more concerned that cultivate spiritual habits that take down and open up the walls we build around our hearts that keep God out. That's one reason we come here; to learn how to create a way, to create an opening through the walls we build for God and Jesus Christ to come into our hearts, soften them up, and make them brand new.
Scattered throughout scripture like seeds waiting to be planted and flourish are the ways for us to lose the walls that keep our hearts from God. The Beatitudes are a good example. Found in both Luke and Matthew, they are a rebuke of our inclination to be looking out for ourselves. Who are the blessed? Those who serve, those who are humble, not doormats, but humble. Those who hunger and thirst not for things, but for goodness and true righteousness. The blessed are those whose sense of self and self-importance comes from praising and loving God. Nothing else is needed. The blessed are those who make peace; not the ones who enforce silence or a particular way of life, but those who risk all to make peace.
Jesus was always talking and teaching about new habits, about new ways of living. He said we are to give without expecting anything in return. We are to turn the other cheek rather than lash out at the one who strikes us. We are to learn what it means to go the extra mile, to give more than we are asked not because we are weak, but because we are to love.
Even while dying on the cross, Jesus asked forgiveness for those who were mocking him, throwing dice for his clothing, and killing him. We are to learn such forgiveness until it becomes a deep habit, even to the point of forgiving and loving our enemies.
After all these years, and all our failed efforts to follow Jesus, it seems He still believes we are worthy of his help. He still loves us. Jesus still loves you and me. He still wants to work with us to tear down the walls we build around our hearts so he can enter and make our hearts new.
Think how wide a crack is created when we forgive an enemy, or harder yet a friend who has betrayed you. Imagine the size of the hole in the wall that opens when we respond to someone's need, when we, if only for an instant, see a stranger as God's child. Consider the damage done to the walls we build when we risk loving, not just our own, not just those who think and believe and look as we do, but the truly different, the alien. And don't you know that each time you give up something you hold dear, something you believe is your right to possess, you can just hear and feel the walls around your heart crashing down.
This new heart business in which God is engaged is not an instant, surgical fix. It is not a quick do-it-yourself project. It is a process, learned over time, and almost always in the presence of a community who believe it is a worthwhile effort. It is a step-by-step process in which we learn to serve, to give, to offer. It is learning to be that special seed that is to be buried in order to grow and flourish, to be that sacred life that is offered so that all may live.
The church can be the place where we learn the practices and acquire the habits that will help us tear down the walls we build around our hearts that truly serve to keep God and Christ out. The church can be that place where we are free to practice love, forgiveness, and caring until these blessed gifts become the pattern of our lives. The church can be the place where new hearts are being made all the time.
The Church can be the place, and Lent can be the season, that helps you to remember this truth: Jesus, wholly innocent, beloved by God, young and loving, gave his life for you. That single memory may change everything, may completely expose your heart to God's creating love. Before insisting on your way, before adding one more stone to the wall around your heart, remember the way that Jesus chose to live and die for you. That single, sacred memory alone may save you for God, He who is always seeking to create a new heart in you.
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