As the days grow shorter and the nights grow colder fall arrives, and with it one of the most beautiful times of the year. I love the changing colors, the crisp mornings, the taste of apple cider and the aroma of burning leaves. But some people absolutely despise Fall. They hate the shorter days, the colder nights, the smell of burning leaves really bothers their allergies, and though they don’t dislike the beautiful foliage, they hate the idea that they will soon need to get out their rake and clear the lawn. When it comes to the change of seasons, it’s all a matter of perspective.

The same thing could be said of any kind of change, it’s all a matter of perspective. If you are certain that the change will bring a better life, more money, more time, more space, more pleasure, more peace, etc., you’re all for it. But if you are sure that change will bring a more difficult life, less money, less time, less space, less pleasure, less peace, etc. then you will resist change. But often we aren’t sure what change will mean, and this creates anxiety and stress. The outcome might be great, but the risk of going through the process makes us wonder. It’s all a matter of perspective.

This is why churches change so slowly. Instead of just one person deciding whether change is worth it, if it seems likely to bring a good result, a whole group of people must make this decision. Suddenly the process becomes exponentially more difficult. Good people disagree on what the change will bring. Some are already comfortable, happy with the status quo. Others sense that not all is well, and are ready for something different, more in keeping with their taste. It’s a matter of perspective. Battles are fought and churches are split over who’s perspective is valid, never taking into account the only perspective that matters. Does anyone every ask: What does Christ want?

When it comes to Christians, change is part of God’s program. In 2 Corinthians 3:17 and 18 the Apostle Paul writes: “Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, their is liberty. But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as the Lord, the Spirit.” (NASV) Every Christian is being changed to look like, act like, be like Christ (Romans 8:29). The Holy Spirit is actively working in the life of each believer, using the circumstances of his or her life, the Word of God, and the fellowship of the saints to progressively make each one more like Jesus. As we change we will each develop new morals, new desires, a new hope. We will grow in holiness, living for the Lord instead of our lust driven appetites. We will earnestly seek His will, share His story, proclaim His word, show His love. Our hopes will be centered in heaven, and not on the things of this earth. A radical transformation will take place. Our perspective will change, and we will see things through Jesus’ eyes.

When a body of believers begins to see things through Jesus’ eyes they will change whatever they need to to bring more people to Christ, welcome new Christians into their web of relationships, teach more people all that Jesus said and did, and depend more intentionally on Christ’s presence and power to accomplish what He leads them to do. We will give up our preferences to accomplish His purposes, we will risk our comfort to hear His well done. It’s a matter of perspective. 

Yesterday was the seven anniversary of the terrorist attacks on the United States. In New York City, Arlington, Virginia, and in a Pennsylvania field people gathered to remember the awful loss of life and the heroism of those who tried to help those who were escaping from the fires that enveloped the World Trade Center. Last night I watched a special on the History Channel pieced together from archived videos taken by people in New York as the attack took place. I was struck by the expressions on the faces of people, the confusion and anguish of those who were watching, the grim determination on the faces of firemen headed into the blazing building, the frustration of police officers trying desperately to get the crowds of bewildered people out of harms way. I listened as 911 operators talked to those trapped on the floors above the fires, telling people that help was coming at first, and later responding with tenderness and heartbreak as they tried in vain to comfort people trapped and dying. I watched in horror as people jumped to their death rather than face the flames, and, although it was seven years ago, became physically sick to my stomach as I watched the towers fall, waves of debris roll though the streets, helpless people fleeing for their lives. I saw priests and rabbis heading into the disaster, their faces grim. A chaplain in a hastily donned collar administering last rights to the dying. I can’t remember how many times I heard people crying “My God.” I wondered, did they really want Him to answer?

In Matthew 6:9-13 Jesus gave His disciples a sample prayer. It begins with “Our Father who is in heaven, hallowed by Your name. Your kingdom come, Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” Now I imagine many of us know this prayer by heart, and many pray it day by day as a kind of ritual, but do we understand the significance of what Jesus’ is instructing us to pray for? When we pray “Your kingdom come, Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven” we are praying that God will step into this wretched sin cursed world and once and for all bring peace and healing. We are praying that men would act toward one another as they do in heaven, with love and kindness, with grace and forgiveness, with mercy and tenderness, with peace. In heaven, nations no longer struggle for power and position. Instead, “the nations will walk by its light (New Jerusalem), and the kings of the earth will bring their glory into it.” (Revelation 21:24) In heaven, death, tears, mourning and pain are banished: “And He will wipe away every tear from their eyes; and there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain; the first things have passed away.” (Revelation 21:4). As I watched and listened all I could think of is, why don’t I pray that prayer more often?

Introduction: For the last two weeks I’ve been drawing your attention to the reality that we are those who are, in Jesus’ words, salt and light in our world. We’ve discovered that we are to be both a means of preserving our community from the ruinous effect of sin and a guiding light that points people, through the gospel, to heaven. Now, there is more at stake here than what might first appear. Perhaps we might think that our society is so far gone that our own sin is slight by comparison, and that witnessing is only for preachers and evangelists. Perhaps you feel that the only reason that you are a Christian is to escape the fires of hell yourself, that all these calls to mission are just another way of trying to extract your time and money from better things, that God doesn’t need your help anyways. I have two words for you: O contraire!

Transition: What happens when individual Christians fail to be salt and light? The Bible actually gives us such a case study. It’s found in the Apostle Paul’s first letter to a church located in the Greek city of Corinth.  This Church was becoming a great deal like its community: selfish, segregated, and sensual. It had forgotten it was supposed to be salt and light in Corinth and was instead filled with selfish people arguing about who was the best preacher they had ever heard, who was the most talented Christian, whether women should wear veils to worship, and whether truly spiritual people should marry! On a regular basis this congregation gathered together to share a potluck meal and observe the Lord’s Supper. Or at least they thought they were…