"picking Up Our Mats"

“Picking Up Our Mats”

John 5:1-9a

I don’t like change.

It scares me.

It’s like diving into the unknown.

When I was a child, my family moved around a lot.

By the time I entered the 6th Grade I had already lived in four different states.

I remember when I moved from Dayton, Ohio to Bowling Green, Kentucky I used to mourn for Ohio.

I put it on a pedestal.

I romanticized it.

I can remember going back to visit Ohio, and picking a blade of grass from the ground at a service station to take home so that I could “take a piece of Ohio” with me—it was as if, in my mind, Ohio was a magical kingdom that was no longer in my grasp.

When I moved from Bowling Green, I did the same thing—except Bowling Green had suddenly become the magical kingdom.

In my mind, life had been perfect there.

It’s easy, I think, to look at the past and think it’s better than what we have now.

“Kid’s these days!”

How many generations of adults have said the exact same thing?

Every generation?

Perhaps.

I’m not saying that some things in the past weren’t better, but we can’t go back in time.

Our world has changed.

I remember the churches I grew up going to.

They were all filled with young families with children, along with the older generations.

Everyone was represented.

And every pew was full.

And the Sauer family, all five of us, always sat in the very front row.

I didn’t especially like sitting in the front row.

I remember asking my mother why we always had to sit in the front.

Her answer?

“Because some people who come into a full sanctuary will not sit in front.

If there are no seats toward the back, they might leave.”

That is missional thinking.

That is Kingdom thinking.

That is the way Christians ought to think.

Sometimes, those of us who have been here for a while need to adjust, make allowances so that others will come in.

After all, the church is not just about us.

The mission of the church is to reach this lost and dying world with the good news of Jesus Christ.

And when we forget our mission—well, we die.

But it’s not easy to make allowances, humble ourselves, move out of the way for others, get out of our comfort zones—to CHANGE!

Of course, Jesus never promised or even hinted that being a Christian was easy.

We are, after all, called to die to self and be raised to new life in Christ.

We are, after all, to take up our Cross and follow Jesus.

Again, even 25 or 30 years ago, it seemed as if every church was full, but that’s not the case anymore.

People don’t come to church these days because they think they have to in order to be culturally accepted.

Actually, it’s the other way around.

Right now, the entire Church of the 21st Century is going through dramatic transition.

Let’s face it, we are not our grandparent’s church anymore.

We aren’t even the Church we were 10 years ago.

Between 6,000 and 10,000 churches in the U.S. are dying each year—closing their doors.

That means around 100-200 churches will close this week.

Something has to change, and it’s not the Gospel.

It’s me.

Perhaps it’s you.

It’s the way we do things.

It’s the way we think about our building.

It’s our traditions.

The progams we have.

The color of the walls.

The music we sing.

It’s about our natural resistance to change.

How many of you have heard someone say, “I want our church to grow I just don’t want it to change.”?

Perhaps you’ve said it yourself.

I know I have.

Our Gospel Lesson for this morning has a lot to do with that dreaded word—CHANGE!

Jesus comes to a pool that was fed by an underground spring, and when the spring overflowed, it would bubble up from below causing a disturbance in the waters above.

In Jesus’ day, there was a legend that this rippling of the waters was caused by the fluttering of angel’s wings, and that the first person to get into the water once it started bubbling would be healed.

There are still places in the world where desperate folks believe in and do similar things.

In any event, Jesus meets a man anear this pool who has been an invalid for 38 years—probably his entire life.

But something strange happens next.

The compassionate Jesus takes a look at the man lying on the ground and asks him a very insensitive question: “Do you want to get well?”

What was Jesus thinking?

“Do you want to get well?”!!!

This poor sick man could have rightfully come back with some sarcastic response like, “Sir, I really enjoy being here completely unable to move!”