This is the Pastor’s Blog for the Service on Sunday July 5th This week the message is titled “Hard Questions”. Included here is the primary Scripture of this message and the Pastor’s notes.
Scripture: Romans 7: 15-25a
I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. 16 Now if I do what I do not want, I agree that the law is good. 17 But in fact it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me. 18 For I know that nothing good dwells within me, that is, in my flesh. I can will what is right, but I cannot do it. 19 For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do. 20 Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me.
21 So I find it to be a law that when I want to do what is good, evil lies close at hand. 22 For I delight in the law of God in my inmost self, 23 but I see in my members another law at war with the law of my mind, making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. 24 Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? 25 Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!
So then, with my mind I am a slave to the law of God, but with my flesh I am a slave to the law of sin.
Pastor’s Message:
If someone were to lock me in a room and tell me I can’t come out until I choose my very favorite chapter or two in the Bible, I think I’d have an answer for them. Beginning with the verses we just heard in Romans 7 through chapter 8 are absolutely foundational for me. The longer I live, the more I think the main challenges and themes of the Christian life are described in those verses. There are other parts of the Bible I frequently grab onto as well – places in scripture that are “home.” I hope you have your “home” places in scripture, too.
For the next few weeks, we’re going to be looking at these verses in Romans 7 and 8, and the work of God through Christ as Paul understands it and writes about it in these chapters,
One of the reasons I love the Apostle Paul is that he never pretends to have it all together. In today’s reading from Romans, he doesn’t sound like a spiritual giant. He sounds so very human: “I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.”
Who among us hasn’t felt that way? How many times have we smacked ourselves on the forehead and thought “why did I do that?” How many times have we replayed words we’ve said and wondered why we always say things like that? And what about all those times we make choices that don’t line up with who we thought we were or hope to become?
Paul’s words have echoed through the centuries because they describe the human condition. They remind us that the struggle between our best intentions and our actual behavior is not a sign that we have failed. It is part of what it means to be human.
But I don’t think Paul’s purpose is simply to confess his failures and in so doing make us all feel ashamed and guilty. Maybe Paul is modeling something very important for followers of Christ.
He shows us what self-knowledge and self-awareness look like (although with somewhat heavy language).
Self-awareness has become something of a buzzword in our culture. But long before psychologists spoke about emotional intelligence and self-awareness, scripture has invited us to know ourselves honestly before God.
In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus asks,”Why do you see the speck in your neighbor’s eye but fail to notice the log in your own?” Jesus invites his hearers and followers into some moments of honest self-examination. Our transformation begins when we are willing to see ourselves clearly.
Jesus calls us to take a look at what’s really in our hearts — not to shame us, but to heal us.
Paul has received this message from Jesus’ gospel body and soul. In his letter to the early Christians in Rome, and to disciples of Jesus across the centuries, he simply shares the truth about himself and his humanity.
Perhaps that is one of the greatest acts of faith – looking inward and being truthful about what we find there. It’s hard, and it often hurts. But God meets us there, too. God works through honest people—not perfect people.
Think about all those people in the stories from the Bible who weren’t perfect (and there are a lot of them!):
Abraham tried to pass his wife, Sarah, off as his sister – twice! Jacob deceived his father, Isaac. Moses murdered an Egyptian and became the lawgiver. David not only sinned with Bathsheba, he had her husband sent to the front lines of battle so he certainly would be killed.
Peter denied Jesus three times. Saul — who became Paul — persecuted the early Church.
None of them were perfect, but all of them experienced moments of truth and honesty about themselves, and God worked through them even more powerfully. Self-awareness and honesty became the doorway through which grace entered their lives.
So often we beat ourselves up trying to get things right: trying harder not to sin; trying harder not to fail; trying harder to become “good” people.
Paul reminds us that the deepest transformation doesn’t begin with trying harder. It begins with letting go. It begins with opening one’s clenched fists and offering all that we are to God.
After describing his inner conflict, Paul exclaims: “Who will rescue me?” He doesn’t ask, “How can I fix myself?”
And then Paul answers his own question: “Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord.”
Grace—not willpower—is the center of the Christian life. God’s grace is what forgives, restores, and transforms.
I’ve mentioned and quoted physician and author Rachel Naomi Remen over the past few weeks. In her writing, she observes that most healing does not come from fixing every flaw but from becoming whole enough to live truthfully. She writes, “The purpose of life is not to become perfect. It is to become whole.”
Healing and wholeness are what Jesus offered, and is what God-in-Christ continues to offer us.
If we accept the journey that healing and wholeness bring about in us, it can change the questions we ask ourselves.
Instead of asking: “what do I have to make myself stop doing?” we could ask: “who am I becoming?”
Am I becoming kinder? Am I becoming more generous? Am I becoming someone who listens before speaking? Am I becoming someone who is slowly becoming more in tune with the image of God at the core of my being? Discipleship isn’t simply about avoiding wrongdoing — it is about becoming more like Christ.
Many of our ancestors in the faith understood this well. St. Ignatuis of Loyola developed what is called “The Examen.” It’s a practice he encouraged his students to cultivate.
There are several variations of The Examen. One version consists of just three questions we can ask ourselves at the end of each day: What was my greatest consolation? What was my greatest disconsolation? What happened today that I can be grateful for?
Another version might be: When today was I most alive to Christ? When did ego control my decisions? What emotions surfaced, and what were the circumstances surrounding those emotions? What invitation might God be giving me?
Such a practice is not to keep score, but to notice where the Spirit has been at work, and where our sticking points and growing edges might be.
Notice that none of those questions ask whether we did things without flaw or with perfection.
Just this simple practice can be an offering to God where grace can meet us, heal us, and transform us.
As we gather around Christ’s communion table today, none of us comes because we have mastered the Christian life. We come because we are still becoming, still learning, still struggling, still growing, still in need of grace. The elements on the communion table – that bit of bread and sip of juice — is food for pilgrims who are still on the journey.
Let us trust that the God who has begun a good work in each of us will continue that work—not through shame, not through fear, but through grace.
Closing prayer
