In one of my favorite Calvin and Hobbes cartoons,

          Calvin and his parents come home after a weekend out of town,

                   only to discover that their house has been broken into.

 

That night, the parents toss and turn,

          and at 2:00 am Calvin’s father rolls over.

“It’s funny,” he says to his wife, “When I was a kid,

          I trusted my parents to take care of everything.

                   It never occurred to me that they might not know how.

          I figured that once you grew up, you automatically knew

                   what to do in any given scenario.

                             I don’t think I’d have been in such a hurry to reach adulthood

                                      if I’d known the whole thing was going to be ad-libbed.”

 

Life is a journey – one which we make up as we go along.

          Abram was certainly not expecting God’s call that day.

                   “Abram,” I imagine God calling, and Abram responding, “Who, me?”

                   “Yes, you.  Listen up, Abram.  I am the Lord your God.

                             I want you to leave your family and your father’s house

                                      and go where I will lead you.”

                   “Uh – Lord?”

                   “Yes, Abram?”

                   “Where shall I tell Sarai we’re going?”

                   “Never mind that.  I’ll lead you.”

                   “Uh—um – oh.”

                   “I will make of you a great nation, and I’ll bless you.

                             In fact, I’ll bless all those who bless you,

                                      and I’ll curse all those who curse you.

                                                You are my chosen ones.”

 

And – amazing, isn’t it?!

          Abram went – Abram and Sarai, and Lot and his family –

                   and they began again.

                             They began all over again!

 

Several years ago a friend of mine wrote this poem:

          It takes courage

            To step out

            Into the unknown.

            Following God

            Is a risky business.

 

            But the promise

            Of eternal life

            Is the blessing

            Of faith.

 

“Following God is a risky business.”

          In fact, for Abram it meant forfeiting everything –

                   his home, his inheritance, and any rights of sonship.

 

Not only that, Abram and Sarai were “senior citizens” –

          but without social security, without IRAs or pensions.

                   God didn’t show Abram a map and say,

                             “There.  On the bank of the Jordan River.

                                      That’s your retirement home –

                                                the house is all built, the electricity’s in,

                                                          the road and driveway are paved …”

 

God didn’t hand them a prospectus for this place.

          God didn’t even give them a map or a GPS.

                   And yet, Abram didn’t protest that he was too old –

                             but then, I imagine God would have told him

                                      “You’re never too old to begin again!”

 

What God asks of Abram and Sarai,

          and what Jesus asks of Nicodemus,

                   is to leave behind everything comfortable and familiar,

                             and begin anew.

 

That may be what God is asking of us, today – as individuals and as church.

          I don’t pretend to know exactly what the Church will look like

                   in another thirty or forty years,

                             but it surely will be very different

                                      from what you and I have known all our lives.

          Maybe we’re headed back to “house churches” – but in a new way –

                   with no “professional clergy,” more “hands on” local mission…

          Or maybe worship will be done on a megachurch basis,

                   with smaller “house churches” doing the day-to-day ministry.

 

The “times, they are a changin’.”

          And change is hard for us human beings.

                   We like the comfortable and familiar …

                             in fact, if we’re completely honest,

                                      we even like the uncomfortable, as long as it’s familiar.

 

Preacher Glenn Cooper, from Nova Scotia, writes:

          … I get nervous when I hear preachers talking about the need for change.  They almost  

            always mean, “Do it my way.”  People are enormously resistant to abandoning what has

            (in their view) worked well for a long time.  I think the Abraham story, coming after all

            the disasters of Genesis 1-11, is in fact saying “It does not have to be that way.”  Its

            message, then is not so much that we need to change, but that we can. 

 

Cooper has harvested the kernel not only of the Abram story,

          but also of the Nicodemus story:

                   Not that we have to change – though that is true –

                             but that we can.

 

Jesus’ conversation with Nicodemus

          is another one of those conversations on two planes in John’s Gospel.

                   There is the dual meaning of born from above  and born again.

                             Jesus tells him he must be born from above, that is, spiritually;

                                      Nicodemus asks how he can be born again, physically.

 

Nicodemus, a Pharisee and a leader of the synagogue,

          represents the “establishment” of Jewish religious life;

                   he represents the existing power structure

                             in society, in religion, probably in age, and in gender –

                                      a contrast with the Samaritan Woman at the Well,

                                                whose story we’ll look at next week.

 

Jesus was raised within the tradition of the synagogue, too –

          and there’s good evidence that he, too, was a Pharisee.

                   But he could see far beyond the status quo to what could be.

 

So their whole conversation took place on these two different planes.

          Maybe Nicodemus was obtuse.

 

But there’s another possibility for Nicodemus:

          as he continued on his journey,

                   he may have begun to unravel the double

                             and perhaps triple layers of meaning in Jesus’ words –

                   and that may have given him nourishment for the journey.

 

We find out, later in John’s Gospel, that Nicodemus

          helped Joseph of Aramithea to prepare Jesus’ body for burial,

                   which probably means that he did become a follower of Jesus –

                             born from above.

 

In both of these stories, a response is called for –

          Abram and Sarai had to start out on that journey,

                   for all the promises of God to become true for them:

                             a second beginning, a starting over again,

                                      an “ad-lib” they hadn’t counted on!

 

But in both of these stories, the emphasis is on the action of God.

          It’s not that we must change; it’s that we can change –

                   we can allow ourselves to be born from above, to be transformed.

 

What that means for each of us, and for the Church together,

          is to stop hanging on for dear life to “the way things have always been.”

                   You know, of course, the “seven Last Words of the Church”?

                             We’ve never done it that way before.

 

Like Abram and Sarai, we have no map to tell us exactly where we’re going;

          we have no Triple-A book giving us information on where to stay

                   and what rest stops to make along the way.

 

We have no Tom-Tom or Garmin to tell us “recalculating” when we go astray –

          (although somehow I imagine God has had to recalculate my route

                   a number of times in my life’s journey!).

 

Like Nicodemus, we have a rich and wonderful tradition as Christians,

          a heritage that has served us long and well,

                   and no 1-2-3 recipe for what a new tradition might look like.

 

But God assures us that we can change,

          that the world doesn’t have to be the way it’s always been,

                   or the way it is now.

 

What we have to do is step out in faith …

          Many years ago I read a quotation from Patrick Overton -- a quotation

                   I’ve carried in my head and pondered in my heart ever since:

                             When we walk to the edge of all the light we have, and take that step into

                                    the darkness of the unknown, we must believe that one of two things will

                                    happen … There will be something for us to stand on, or … we will be

                                    taught to fly.

 

The One who gives us something to stand on,

          the One who teaches us to fly,

                   is God, in Jesus Christ.

                             Let us not fear to take that next step.        Amen.