The Straight and Narrow

Sermon manuscript for Green Lake Church

Sabbath, January 3, 2015

Scripture: Luke 3:7-14

The other days I was headed south on Green Lake Way and stopped at the traffic light at 50^th. In the bicycle lane was a cyclist, also stopped. But instead of doing what any normal bicyclist would do and putting one or both feet on the ground while he waited for the light to change, he was standing on his pedals, balancing by gently rocking back and forth. I kept watching, waiting for him to fall over, but he didn't. He managed to balance there for a minute or two, both feet on the pedals, going nowhere.

We have some serious bicyclists here at Green Lake. Dick commutes rain or shine. David is a crazy mountain biker. Mitch was a national champion mountain biker.

Let's imagine we invite our amazing bicyclists to a simple, little contest. We go over to the Phinney neighborhood just west of Aurora Avenue. We head up to Phinney Avenue at the top of the hill, to the corner of 60^th and Phinney. Sixtieth is a perfectly straight shot down from Phinney Avenue toward Aurora. The contest is this. We have some special bicycles with front wheels that don't turn. They have been carefully built. The front and back wheels are in perfect alignment. They go perfectly straight ahead. The challenge for our expert bicyclists is how far down 60^th Street can they go without falling over or crashing into the parked cars.

Do you understand the challenge? How far do you think they can get down the street?

As difficult as it is to stand on your pedals waiting for a red light to turn green, that is still easier than riding a bicycle with a front wheel that will not turn.

The way you keep a bicycle up right is to turn from left to right to left to right. It is the variation back and forth that keeps you up right.

This is a picture of repentance.

We heard in our New Testament reading about the work of John the Baptist. John baptized people with “a baptism of repentance.” Frequently people imagine repentance as a dramatic change. An alcoholic becomes clean and sober. An abusive husband becomes a gentle, responsible lover. A thief becomes an honest worker.

I've known people like this. Meth addicts that found recovery and productive lives, gangsters who became disciples. Their dramatic transformations are inspiring, wonderful. They illustrate repentance at its extreme.

For most of us, however, repentance is nothing like that. Rather repentance is more like riding a bicycle. Repentance means the frequent readjustment in the direction we want to do. Carsten Johnsson, one of my professors in seminary decades ago said, “The one perfection available to Christians is the perfection of repentance.” The essence of repentance is turning toward God, toward goodness, toward compassion, toward virtue, toward health, toward discipline, toward loyalty.

It is not possible to set a life direction and follow that initial setting without variation. Not if we want to stay upright and on the right path. Just as riding a bicycle requires constant movement of the handle bars, so holy living means constantly readjusting, tinkering to make things better. We do not repent because what we did yesterday was bad. We repent because today requires turning again toward God and goodness. This afternoon requires to make another response to the irregularities and demands of the road.

We have some good drivers in our congregation, people who drive for a living. Imagine you're driving a big truck down a straight stretch of freeway in eastern Washington. You aim the truck perfectly straight ahead in the center of the lane and lock the steering wheel in place. How long will your truck stay in the lane? A minute? Two minutes? It depends on the road surface and wind who knows what other factors. Good driving means constant readjustment. Pointing the vehicle again in the desired direction.

It's the same in life. Good life, virtuous life means reorienting again and again toward good goals, noble dreams. The idea of repentance is pretty simple. Notice how John defined it: If you have two coats, share one. If you have the power of a government contract behind your business, don't take advantage of your advantage. If you are a policeman, don't abuse your power. Be content.

These are common sense applications of the fundamental moral vision. The idea is simple. The complication is the application. John the Baptist called on his listeners to repent—to turn again and again and again toward goodness.

It's still perfect counsel for us. The perfect life is a life lived by constant turning—steering again and again toward God and goodness.

As we begin a new year, I invite you to spend a bit of time redirecting your life. Think again about your highest goals. Consider what is your highest calling. Check yourself. Are you spending your time and money on the things that matter most to you? Do you need to make some readjustments?

Are you treating your family the way you meant to do when you started out in romance?

Can you improve the quality or quantity of time you devote to cultivating your spiritual life?

This new year, will you change your patterns of exercise or diet?

Will you read books that are more inspiring?

Will you avoid talk radio and talking head TV that feed anger, frustration and annoyance?

Will you cultivate compassion? Will you practice integrity?

Whether you're steering a bicycle or a Mack truck, the key to success is constant, frequent readjustment, turning again and again toward our goals.

It's precisely the same in life.

Ask yourself how you are using the power you have. We all have power of some kind. Financial power, social power, relationship power. What are we doing with our power. Are we using it to serve or using it compel others to serve us. This year, how can you use your power more effectively for the benefit of others?

Be content. Wow! That's a hard one. As the final word in repentance, it comes as an invitation to turn again and again back to our privileges. This year let's take time to savor the gifts that come your way. Sunrises and sunsets. Good food. Good friends. Good books. The privileges of being born in a particular family and nation. Give thanks that God takes pleasure in your life, in your constant turning again and again toward goodness. Then get up and point your life once more toward love and the divine Lover.