Transformation by Effort and Grace

Sermon preached by the Rev. Lowell E. Grisham, Rector

St. Paul's Episcopal Church, Fayetteville, Arkansas

May 27, 2012; Pentecost Sunday, Year B

Episcopal Revised Common Lectionary

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Last weekend I got to meet someone I’ve known from afar.  Years ago I read a lovely book about the Benedictine Rule written by Brian Taylor, an Episcopal priest from Albuquerque.  And since that time, he’s been on my radar as someone I pay attention to.  Well, I met Brian at a meeting last week, and we visited a bit.  A delightful conversation.  I think we’re going to be working together some on some shared interests at the General Convention in July.

For this Pentecost sermon, I want to share a notion of Brian’s with you.  It has to do with transformation. 

Pentecost is the feast of the transformation of the church by God’s Holy Spirit.  The Holy Spirit is always working to transform us.  The Spirit’s goal is that in our lives we will become expressions of the kind of life we see in Christ.  What do we see when we look at Jesus?  We see – and these are Brian’s words – “generosity, humility, prophetic fire, forgiveness, trust in God, purity in heart, and unconditional love.” [i]  That’s a pretty good list of virtues to strive for.  But that’s going to take some change, isn’t it?  I don’t know about you, but I’ve got a long way to go to be like that. 

God’s Spirit would like to change us, transform us so that we are people of generosity, humility, prophetic fire, forgiveness, trust in God, purity in heart, and unconditional love.  How does that happen?  Brian says we are transformed in three ways – the change that happens to us, the change that we create, and, well, a third way.

First:  The change that happens to us.  Sometimes we just get hit over the head and we are changed.  It happened to our namesake, St. Paul.  He was working so hard, trying to measure up, trying to be perfect, to control his own life and to straighten up those others who were out of control, and he was simply miserable.  Performance anxiety.  Am I okay?  Am I measuring up?  And he got struck blind with the realization that God loves him and accepts him without strings, without his measuring up.  Justification by grace is what he called it.  Peace is what it gave him.  He was accepted.  He was safe.  He could relax.  And from that place of deep acceptance, he could be who he was.  POW!  It hit him like a ton of bricks, and he was changed.

This kind of changes either happens or it doesn’t.  You can’t really manufacture it.  But we try.  And when a breakthrough doesn’t come, we can get pretty disappointed, in ourselves and in God. 

But there is a second kind of change, a change that we create.  It’s “the kind of transformation that is planned and executed through our own efforts.”  In church, we call it practice.  We adopt a rule of life to pray, to study, to live more gently.  There are other kinds of programs “to lose weight, get in shape, improve our effectiveness at work, build intimacy in our marriage, and yes, grow spiritually.  We set overall goals, identify measurable objectives, and practice the seven steps promoted by the author or workshop leader.” [ii] 

There are a number of ways I’ve become a better person through these disciplines and efforts.  But, Brian Taylor says, “the planning/execution model doesn’t always work.”  It can become oppressive trying to measure up, like Paul experienced in his early life.  It’s even worse if we succeed, and become proud and smug because we are not like “those others.”  Sometimes we don’t know what change we need to work on, because we can’t see what’s best for ourselves.  Sometimes we know, and we just get stuck.

But there is a third way.  “When God doesn’t seem inclined to slap us upside the head with instantaneous transformation and when we can’t transform ourselves through our own efforts alone, there is …a mysterious interplay of human effort and divine grace.” [iii]

Brian grew up in California’s Bay Area.  Every kid growing up in the Bay Area had to at least try to surf on occasion.  Brian writes, “I remember waiting peacefully, bobbing up and down in the water, watching the horizon as swells came in groups, wondering if this set was going to be The One.  I remember turning towards shore, paddling hard…, only to fall back when I couldn’t catch the momentum of the wave.  I remember especially the glorious sensation when my vigorous strokes were magically met by the powerful surge beneath, lifting me up and forward.  It was an amazing physical sensation, when, after having waited, discerned, tried, and failed, suddenly my strength and the ocean’s strength came together in a glorious alchemy.” [iv]

He continues:  “So it is with spiritual transformation.  We put in our time in prayer, we go to therapy, read books, talk to friends, offer ourselves in worship, and practice our rule of life.  We paddle along by our own strength, trying to propel ourselves forward, hoping to catch a wave of freedom, compassion, simplicity, or intimacy with the divine.”

There is our own working out of our salvation as St. Paul encourages, and there is also the waiting on grace.  “Interspersed with our efforts to change is a contemplative dimension, a kind of surrender, a dying to self.  This is what Gerald May used to call ‘creating a little contemplative space’ around things, a little breathing room for the Spirit when things are dense.  In this contemplative space, we let go of our control, trusting that God is working beneath our understanding and our striving.  We float, remaining awake, receptive, watchful.”

“Eventually the waters beneath us will surge,” Brian says.  Something comes together.  We understand.  Our frustrating trying meets “an energy beyond ourselves, and we are taken forward.”  Effort and grace overlap simultaneously.  Change happens.

Here’s how Brian summarizes it:  “Transformation does not usually happen to us by magic or simply because we will it into being.  It happens because we try, we fail, we surrender, we wait, we try again, we get help, we let go, we beat our heads against the wall, we wait some more . . . and all the while, we do our best to trust that the Spirit is actually working harder than we are, beneath the surface of consciousness.  Occasionally we catch glimpses of this graceful work, until finally, when the timing is right, it comes out into the open, all our efforts are matched by the more powerful surge of grace, and we are carried forward.”

So trust.  Be of good heart.  Keep trying, striving.  Practice.  Do not be afraid.  Believe that if you do your part, the Spirit will go to work as well.  We float upon a divine ocean of life.  Watch for the wave, ready to paddle hard to catch it, and to be carried beyond what you could ever become yourself.  Who knows, you may even discover in yourself things like “generosity, humility, prophetic fire, forgiveness, trust in God, purity in heart, and unconditional love.”  You may find God’s Holy Spirit transforming you into Christ. [v]

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[i] Brian C. Taylor, from his essay The Alchemy of Effort and Grace, in the CREDO book All Shall Be Well, William S. Craddock, Jr., editor, Morehouse Publishing, New York, 2009, p. 172.

[ii] Ibid, p. 173

[iii] Ibid, p. 174

[iv] Ibid, p. 175

[v] In a week when I am especially weary, I am thankful for Brian’s fine essay, giving me a wave to ride on to a sermon that I wasn’t able to create for myself.