“Change of Heart”

A Sermon Preached by

The Rev. Jean Niven Lenk

First Congregational Church of Stoughton

United Church of Christ

A fellow clergy person[1] writes that he has heard that out there, somewhere, is a nefarious group of folk determined to save the church by developing a liturgy that doesn’t turn people off.  As its first task, the group has started work on a new non-upsetting hymnbook.  The leader of this underground group explains it this way: "People in today's society get kind of uncomfortable with too much talk about things like commitment and dedication.  They'd much rather have a religion they can turn on or off at will.  Our new hymnal seeks to meet that need."

Herewith are some of the entries in this non-threatening hymnbook:

• “Blest Be the Tie That Doesn't Cramp My Style”
•  “Joyful, Joyful, We Kinda Like Thee”
• “O Master, Let Me Walk Where I Want”
• “Lord, I Want to Think About Being a Christian in My Heart”

What do you think?  If only following Christ did not mean changing the way we think and act; if only following Christ didn’t require a commitment and a change of heart; if only we could live life the way we wanted and still be called a Christian -- then maybe we’d have more people sitting in our pews. 

But doing our own thing, and living life our way, and being responsible to only ourself is not what following Christ is all about.  That’s one of the lessons in Jesus’ parable of the two sons.  Their father goes to the older boy and says, “Son, go and work in the vineyard today.”  The son’s response is short and to the point: “I will not.”  We are not given any hints as to the older son’s voice inflections or body language when he answers his father, but I’m going to guess that it was the equivalent of the modern day, “No way!”

The father then asks the younger son, who immediately and respectfully answers, “I go, sir.”  Such a nice boy!  There’s only one problem.  The younger son never shows up.  That’s the bad news.

The good news is that the older son, who so firmly turned down his father at first, ends up having a change of heart and goes to work in the vineyard.

It seems like a simple enough story that Jesus shares with the Pharisees, but he is telling it during the last week of his life.  He has already ridden triumphally into Jerusalem on a stolen donkey.  He has already chased the merchants out of the temple, and overturned the tables of the moneychangers, and cursed a fig tree.  And now, returning to the temple to teach, he is cornered by the chief priests and the elders, who question his authority.

In response, he tells them this parable, and you know his intent is not to launch into a lecture on child psychology or a study of birth order or sibling rivalry.  Jesus is telling this story to lead the religious authorities into discovering something about themselves – something they may not want to hear.  And so he asks them, “Which of the two sons did the will of the father?”

It’s an easy answer for both them and us – it’s the older son who does the will of his father, of course.  He may have started out in the wrong direction, walking away from vineyard, but he has a change of heart and turns around, and finds his way there.  The younger son may be big on promises, but he’s short on delivery.  And actions, even late ones, always trump good intentions and empty promises.

Well, if Jesus had left it at that, the religious authorities may have found his parable to be a pleasant, if rather simplistic, story.  But Jesus doesn’t stop there.  He goes on to explain to those chief priests and elders that they are like the younger son.  They who pride themselves on their religious observances and ritual purity; they who appear so religious on the outside, but are not on the inside; they who are so strict in their adherence to the law that there is no room in their hearts for the fresh experience of God that Jesus offers.  They say all the right things, believe all the right things, stand for all the right things – and they are so sure of their own perfection that they aren’t willing to let God change anything about them, especially their hearts.

And if that weren’t enough, Jesus goes on to tell the Pharisees, “Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you.”  Yes, people whose appearance isn’t religious but whose hearts are; those sinners on the margins of society, those who may first say “no” to Jesus, but who then repent, changing their hearts and minds and ways; they may know nothing about the “law” and the right ways to worship, but they open themselves to being changed by God.  Those people will enter the Kingdom of Heaven ahead of the self-righteous religious leaders.

Who are some of these people Jesus is talking about?  There’s Zacchaeus, who wasn’t just a despised tax collector – he was the chief tax collector, and he was able to accumulate great wealth at the expense of others.  But Zacchaeus knew he needed God’s merciful love, and through his encounter with Jesus he found more than he imagined possible.  He goes on to show the depth of his repentance by deciding to give half of his goods to the poor, and to use the other half for making restitution for fraud.  Zacchaeus’ testimony includes more than just words; his change of heart results in a change of life, a change that the whole community can experience.

And there is the woman at the well, who is both an adulteress and a hated Samaritan.  Breaking through the barriers of nationality and religious custom, Jesus greets and speaks openly with her, offering her what he calls “living water” – that is, the Holy Spirit working in us, changing our hearts, so that we can be new creations in Christ. 

Zacchaeus and the woman at the well, and all the others who have allowed God to change their hearts and their lives -- they will be going into the Kingdom of God ahead of the self-righteous Pharisees, who confuse conviction of belief with obedience to God.

Jesus told his parable 2,000 years ago, and his words are just as relevant now.  For the fact of the matter is, there are many people who call themselves Christians but aren’t about to let God work in their hearts.  They are so convinced they have a corner on “God’s Truth,” so very sure about who’s in and who’s out, who’s going to heaven and who isn’t, about what the bible says and how it condemns to society’s margins the modern-day equivalents of tax collectors and prostitutes.  Whenever I meet up with these modern-day Pharisees, I am struck at how brittle and joyless they seem.

But being a Christian is more than knowing all the hymns, and how to pray, and being able to quote scripture.  Doing church is easy.  It’s following God’s will for our lives that is hard.  It’s committing to God and allowing God to change our hearts and turn us around in a new direction that is hard.

Is there a son who says that he will do the will of his father and then does it?  He is not in Jesus’ parable, but he is in our scripture lesson this morning.  It’s Jesus.  In just a few short days, he will pray to God, “Not my will but thine,” and he is faithful to his word, even when it means death on the cross.  God does not force God’s will on Jesus or on us – forced obedience is not obedience at all – but like Jesus, we are left to make choices about our life – who we put first, what our priorities are, how we’re going to live our lives, our level of devotion. 

So, may we say, with the full commitment of our hearts and our lives, that “Blest Be the Tie that Binds,” “Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee,” “O Master, Let Me Walk with Thee.”  Let us sing from the depths of our changing and change-able hearts, “Lord, I Want to Be a Christian.”  Amen.