Youth Sunday

Ian Richter
February 26, 2006

When we discussed using personal transformations as our theme for this service, the first thought that came to my mind was that of Saul on the road to Damascus. After all, where else in the Bible does someone undergo as radical a transformation as he, who converted to the same faith that he had persecuted not more than days before. After further reflection, I arrived at this sermon.

Alright, so we've all had one of those moments where we're just struck blind on the road. We've all then heard voices, directing us to high-tail it down to a house in PG County and, once there we were all greeted by a kind fellow who laid hands on us and struck up a conversation. Of course, we were all healed immediately. That's just the way the world works, isn't it... anyone? Anyone?

OK, perhaps the world isn't quite that simple, but we can still learn something from the conversion of Saul. After all, I did go a bit far in my parody. The text does not actually say that Saul was struck blind, but rather that, “though his eyes were open, he could see nothing.” While this excerpt certainly implies blindness, it also indicates a far graver infirmity of the spirit. Paul contacts daily the disciples of an alien faith, yet he is blind to their perspective. Who among us has not, like Saul, closed themselves to the 'other half'? The world is so much simpler when we blind ourselves to all but one point of view, when we can squint very hard and simply say “your wrong” to anyone who disagrees. In this sense, we, like Saul, need to be reminded that we do a great injustice when we close ourselves to the outside world. However, as much as I might like it to be, this is not a sermon about tolerance. I'll save that soapbox speech for later.

My chief problem with this text is that I simply do not believe that personal transformations as radical as Saul's are really possible sans that ever-elusive divine intervention. Self-improvement is not simply a matter of stopping by that house in PG County and getting my eyes fixed. Personal transformations of that magnitude come about gradually, and they must be worked for. Everything I have learned over the years points to the notion that one must work to better oneself. It is not something that will occur on its own or through divine guidance. And if it comes free of charge, what is its value? For example, it is all too easy to be self centered. It is simple. I have only one thing to worry about: me. If I care for my neighbor, his problems become mine, and I only add to my burden. The catch is, I believe that such a world view is wrong. The world does not revolve around me, and I owe it to others to help out where I can in the hopes that they will do the same for me. And therefore, I WORK to become more helpful. I'll be the first to admit that I don't necessarily succeed – I will never perfect anything in this life, but that is not the point. I do not expect God to strike me blind, give me a lecture, and forcibly correct my actions to make me a better person. I therefore am uncomfortable with the notion that he would do so with one of the most prolific writers in the Bible.

It is my belief that when God gave humankind free will, that was equivalent to a covenant. The world, and its contents became our charge, and we were on our own. We are free in the fullest sense of the word, and our responsibility is to use that freedom as best we can. Any divine intervention, then has, as far as I'm concerned, been either a serious breech of contract, or a man misconstruing the facts. I prefer to believe that it was the latter.

The phrase “personal transformation” has too much of a passive connotation for my liking. If we expect change to come as an epiphany, followed by perfection, we are inclined to accept ourselves and our world as less than they could be. Saul is not the example we should strive for. The race he so poetically refers to in his teachings is just the opposite of his own experiences. He hitch hiked a ride to the finish, while the rest of us are left to make our own way as best we can.