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New Life from God
A sermon based on Romans 8:6-11
By Rev. Randy Quinn

 I can remember standing at the Continental Divide with one foot on each side of the line.  It was a strange and wonderful and awe-inspiring event.  The Continental Divide is an imaginary line that has real consequences.

Rain that falls on one side of the divide becomes a part of the river system that ends in the Atlantic Ocean while rain that falls on the other side becomes part of the river system that ends in the Pacific Ocean.  A little wind during a rain storm along the Continental Divide, and rain drops can be separated by thousands of miles.

How I wish there was such a spiritual divide!

Unfortunately, I can choose to go down the side of the mountain that pleases God only to find myself suddenly on the other side of that divide, almost as if I were caught up in a scene from a science fiction horror film.

Paul makes it sound as if it were as simple as pushing the AM/FM button on my car radio.  One button makes my mind subject to God and God’s Spirit while the other button puts my sinful nature in control.

And while on the one hand it really is that simple, on the other hand, it is much more complex than that because I have to push that button every moment of every day.

Many people start the New Year with a series of resolutions about how they are going to “turn over a new leaf” and begin new and healthier habits.  For some, the season of Lent is another opportunity to take up new disciplines while discarding old habits.  But they soon learn that there is more to it than simply starting anew.

When I was growing up, we moved regularly.  In fact, the longest I’ve ever lived in one place at one time was in the parsonage at the Allen Blanchard United Methodist Church.  And the second longest I’ve ever lived in one place at one time was in the parsonage where we lived before that in Saint John, Washington.  (People who think United Methodist pastors move too often simply don’t know what it means to make frequent moves!)

As a teenager, I remember moving and making the decision to reorient my life toward the things of God.  I had made my personal profession of faith and wanted to start in my new home in a new town and a new school with a new sense of being and a new sense of purpose.

I intentionally found friends who attended church and spent time with them.  I found myself going to church more often and reading my Bible more regularly.  But in the end, what I did didn’t change who I was.

John Wesley spoke of the means of grace and their role in helping us achieve sanctification, a word that speaks about becoming pure and holy.  He knew that God’s grace is the only thing that can change us.  Only God can re-create us.

By being in church more often, by being intentional about the kinds of friends I kept, by practicing spiritual disciplines, I made it easier for God to work within me.  But it wasn’t like I ‘flipped the switch’ from AM to FM, from a mind controlled by sin to a mind controlled by Christ.

I made some decisions that made it possible for God’s Spirit to work within me.  I didn’t know the Wesleyan understanding of the means of grace, but I saw it at work.

A couple of years ago I joined a small group of pastors who wanted to learn to speak Spanish.  We were living in a community in which 60 – 70% of the residents were first and second generation Americans, many of whom still spoke Spanish in their homes.  Most of the pastors had taken Spanish as a subject in High School or college, but none of us had ever used it outside the classroom.

We began our time together with an instructor who worked with us in an intensive class setting for one week.  At the end of that week most of us had reacquired our previous level of fluency.  But then our instructor told us what we already knew:  if we don’t practice it with our neighbors, if we don’t practice it with people in our community, we’ll never really know how to speak Spanish.

A full year later, we still had not practiced outside of our own little group.  We had the skills, we all could “listen in” on conversations taking place in our community, but only one of us had ever joined one of those conversations.

The truth is we knew more about Spanish than many of the people who spoke it fluently.  But.  But our fears kept us from acting on what we knew, and for all intents and purposes, we did not know what we professed to know.

We all would have learned more Spanish had we spent time in conversation with people who knew little or no English.  We simply did not make ourselves available to those opportunities.

Some Christians think that knowing what the Bible says is sufficient.  Some folks think that going to church is all you need to do.  I have heard some people make the argument that because salvation is a free gift from God and they had already accepted Jesus, they didn’t need the church.

Faith in God is not a subject that is meant to be studied.  It is not a noun.  It is not something we can learn about.

Faith in God is something that changes our lives.  It is a verb.  It is lived out.

And to live out our faith, we must read our Bibles.  But not so we know what it says alone.  To live out our faith, we must go to church.  But not so we can say we have been to church.  To live out our faith, we must trust God to save us.  But we cannot let that be the end of the story.

The story is finished when we become sanctified, when we become all that God intends us to be, when we become pure and holy, when the mind of Christ controls our every thought and action.

Rick Warren, in his book The Purpose Driven Life, uses the analogy of a speed boat on auto-pilot.  He says if you want to change the direction of the boat, you can either wrestle with the auto-pilot and manually turn its direction – a feat that will result in tired arms and a short term victory – or you can reset the auto-pilot.[1]

In our text today, Paul is suggesting that we can make a choice about how we will live our lives.  We can let our own sinful nature control us.  We can choose based on the idolatry of ourselves, making sure that our own needs are met, that our own hungers are satisfied.  Or we can choose based on our worship of and devotion to God.  We can allow God to set the agenda and turn our attention to the needs around us.

Jesus says that if we seek first the things of God, all the other things we need will be provided (Mt. 6:33).

The God who raised Jesus from the dead is able to do the same within us, but not if we want to be in control.  Lazarus didn’t come out of the tomb because he wanted to do so.  The dry bones Ezekiel saw did not come to life because they wanted to live again.  Only God can give new life.

We can choose to let God rule in our lives.  We can decide to let God set the agenda.  We can give our minds over to Christ.

All-too-often, we prefer to live in fear.  We’re like that group of pastors who wanted to learn Spanish, but not if it meant doing it in public.  We’re afraid of what God might ask of us, so we are reticent.  And our reticence closes out the possibilities that God has for us, the possibilities for new life, for abundant life.

Today, like every day, right now, like in every moment of our lives, we stand at that great spiritual divide in life.  We get to choose.  Will we determine our own destiny, a way that Paul says leads to death (Rom 8:6) or will we allow God to give us new life?

When Moses presented those options to the people of Israel, he pleaded with them to choose life (Dt. 30:19).  What will you choose today?

Let’s pray:

God, the giver of life, we come to you as sinners who have more often chosen a course that leads to death than we have chosen to follow you.  Forgive us.  Free us for joyful obedience to your will, we pray, in the name of Jesus your son and our savior.  Amen.


[1]  Zondervan, 2002, pp 208-209.