November 9, 2025

A Whole New Ball Game

Let me begin by saying that there is much about this sermon I do not want to preach, and much that I don’t want to hear. It is not a sermon that has welled up from my most treasured inner convictions; it has, rather, leapt out of the lectionary grabbing me by the shirt collar and forcing me to pay attention. It is the unmistakable message of Jesus, heard time and again, that the Almighty’s vision is revolutionary — the Divine future is a “whole new ball game.”
I’m uncomfortable with that because I like the present — at least quite a bit of it. I don’t care to have my world turned upside down by anyone — not even the Lord Almighty. I am pretty content with things just the way they are, thank you. And I’m not alone. I think the ancient Egyptians, and not a few of the foreign slaves, were quite content under the rule of the Pharaoh, until Moses started his rabble-rousing. I suspect the Israelites were happy with the collusion of the Temple priesthood and the Roman governors before Jesus came along and stirred up trouble. I rather think that many, many people sat in their pews quite contentedly and listened to the delegates from the Holy See appeal for indulgence money, before Martin Luther and John Calvin started stirring up the common folk to bring on the “calamity” of the Reformation. I know for a fact that millions of Americans were happy with what seemed like the “natural order” of things, until trouble-makers like Martin Luther King, Jr. started calling for marches and sit-ins. Mostly, folks would like to just keep enjoying things the way they are. Is that too much to ask?
But, apparently, that same Lord Almighty isn’t interested in accommodating our desire for stability, but always seems to be doing a new thing. Isn’t that annoying? In fact, when really pushed by the Sadducees (the religious conservatives of his day), Jesus revealed that the ultimate Divine plan was nothing less than the total remaking of the world, in a way that would be absolutely unrecognizable to people of the present day. The Lord’s hidden agenda (which, ever since Jesus, is not quite so hidden) is to refashion absolutely everything from the ground up, and make the world all over again in a whole new way. I really wish there were some other plan in the offing, but I guess that’s just not in the cards
Take church, for instance. I happen to absolutely love this church. I love everything about it. I love that we are a bunch of open-minded, good-natured, kind, caring people who enjoy each other’s company. I love our building. I love its history and it’s simple New England charm. I love the commitment demonstrated by our trustees and everyone else here to keeping this building as enduringly beautiful and functional as it is. I love our worship, and how comfortable it is, because so much is so familiar — we sing our Amen and “Praise God from Whom All Blessings Flow,” and say the Lord’s Prayer, and pretty much each week we stand up at the same times and sit down at the same times. I like that. I love our organ and our piano. I love sharing in our music each week here. I love the commitment and dedication of all of you in this church family — the way people can always be counted on to do whatever needs to be done to help out people in need, and to keep our church programs going year after year. I love all of you. I love how close we have become in these years together, and how happy it is to be in relationship with people you care about. I love everything about this place — just the way it is.
And I become a little troubled when I see young people and families in our community or in other communities drawn to these “new kinds of churches.” You know what I mean. There are a few of them around. They’re designed from the ground up based on all the research done by the church growth movement. They are carefully tailored to speak the language, play the music, and offer the look and feel of the newest generation of white, middle-class Americans. They tend to offer a theologically conservative (if not fundamentalist) message. They place a huge emphasis on the creation of small groups. And they have totally changed worship music. It’s all contemporary; largely gone are the familiar old hymns of the church; long gone are the beloved old pipe organs. Now it’s all guitars, drums, bands, and what has come to be known as “praise music.” And they are succeeding monumentally in drawing hundreds and even thousands of people to their services, in communities all over this land.
What are we to say about this? That thousands of people are being unfortunately duped by modern snake-oil salesmen hawking nothing more than a shallow, feel good, watered down version of the gospel? It’s tempting. But it wouldn’t be entirely accurate. People are being drawn to such churches because those churches are meeting a need. They are responding to a dramatically changed society by presenting at least a version of the gospel in a form that resonates with a new generation of people, hungry for an experience of alive, engaging worship. In many cases, it turns out to be a version of the gospel that I don’t subscribe to, but that’s hardly the point. The point is that they, and I suspect the Lord of Hosts, are doing a new thing in our midst.
What does this mean, that we should throw out our hymnals, dismantle our pipe organ, buy some electric guitars, and “get jiggy with it?” Somehow, I think not. But does it all have something to say to us? Is there a message in it about the deep and pervasive spirit of reformation that lies at the heart of the Gospel? Is it possible that we could become so happy and so content with “things the way they are” that we might miss out on the Divine plan for this world? Is it just possible that, if we are to keep up with the Spirit of transformation, we will need to move outside our comfort zones, and become more discoverers of meaning than purveyors of tradition?
I’m not going to offer my own ideas here for what we might be called to. I know you all have within you the capacity to “Stir one another up,” in Paul’s words, “to love and good works.” We sit around tables downstairs and talk about everything from the weather to our fond memories of days gone by, but we could also share with each other some of our own visions for the days and years ahead. What I’m talking about is a spirit – an approach to life and to our life together.
Jesus gave us a glimpse of that spirit in the encounter we read about this morning from the gospel of Luke. The Sadducees came to Jesus and tried to trick him by putting a question to him about who’s married to whom in the hereafter. Jesus’ answer, in short, was: what is in store for all of you is so far beyond your grasp, so foreign to your experience, that your little question about marriage is absolutely irrelevant. Well, folks, that’s not just an observation about the hereafter, it’s a comment about the intentions and directions and plans of the Lord of Hosts. Jesus said “the kingdom of heaven is upon you/within you.” He prayed, “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” The Lord’s plans are for the remaking of this very world, and they are for right now, not just some distant time into the future. And if we are going to be part of that unfolding plan, we’d better be on board before the train leaves the station.
Many of us may be very happy with this community of faith. But we have not found here the ultimate expression of Divine will for all time. There is more yet to be disclosed about what community can be, what faith can be, what worship can be, what service and love and commitment can be. The same is true for the rest of life. You may have a good marriage, but I’ll bet it could be better. You may have a job you love, but you likely have not discovered all that you are called to in life. You may have a circle of friends that give you support and pleasure, but I know that there are people yet to meet, hearts to win, discoveries of relationship to be made. The Holy Spirit is an entrepreneur — a spirit of innovation. And we are called to be innovators. This I believe: the Good Lord has got plans in store for us that would blow our minds if we could conceive of them.
If that’s true for whatever awaits us on the other side of death’s door, how about for what goes on on this side of that door. I believe it’s true for your own life. Consider those who have been transformed, remade by an encounter with the holy. In the words of Frederick Buechner, “Henry Ward Beecher cheats on his wife, his God, himself, but manages to keep on bringing the Gospel to life for people anyway, maybe even for himself. . . . Zaccheus climbs up a sycamore tree a crook and climbs down a saint. Paul sets out a hatchet man for the Pharisees and comes back a fool for Christ.”
I don’t like to think of things changing. I’m really pretty happy with my life, and my world. I’m happy with the church; I’m happy with my role here. But there’s something calling to me from the pages of this Bible asking if my contentedness is the last word. There’s something gnawing at my gut that answers, no.
So, against my will, I challenge you this morning to think of ways that things might change in the church, and to be bold enough to bring your ideas before others, and before appropriate leaders or boards. I challenge you to think of ways that things might change in your family life, and bring your thoughts into the family conversations. I challenge you to think of ways things might change at your job, at your club, with your friends, and act upon those thoughts. I challenge you to look for what the Spirit is doing within you, and around you.
If you’re wondering what lies ahead, what’s in store for us, let me assure you, it’s a whole new ball game. So keep your eyes open and your heart ready. There’s no question, the Good Lord is doing a new thing. Watch for it, wait for it, work for it. The best is yet to come!