Matthew Sturtevant, Preaching

Have you ever taken a trip and failed to reach your destination?

Last August, my brother and dad and I went backpacking in the Colorado Rockies.  We hiked in the Indian Peaks Wilderness, which is an area adjacent to Rocky Mountain National Park.

As the trip began, we had a goal.  We were going to bag a thirteener – a mountain over 13,000 feet high.  Our choice was Mt. Audubon.  As we drove west, there were some things that we knew.

We knew we had to be up and down from the mountain by noon or one, because with the late afternoon thunderstorms on the East side of the Rockies, you don’t want to be above tree line when the lightning storm starts.  So we planned to hike in a couple of days early and set up camp.

We knew we had to be close to the base of the mountain, because the scrambling to the peak would be difficult without climbing equipment and we would have to get an early start.  So we camped by Coney Lake right at tree line, so that we would be as close as possible to the mountain.

We knew that we would have to find a clear path up to the top of the mountain.  Audubon has sheer rock faces and places that are not easy to climb, even with equipment and skills that we did not have.  So we did our research – bought books and checked out online the best way to climb Audubon.  In the process, we learned a new word – couloir.

“Couloir” is a French word meaning corridor.  It basically is a seam in the mountain that is more protected and less steep than the walls around it.  Therefore, it keeps snow in it and is climbable even into the summer.  For us, the Coney Couloirs were the most accessible way for us to climb the peak.

So, we knew a lot of things.  However, there were a few things that we did not know.  And that is what made all the difference.

For example, did you know that while many couloirs keep snow in them the entire year round, there are many others that lose their snow by say, August?  What you are left with is a scree slope of tiny rocks, making climbing up them much like climbing up a mountain of marbles.  The Coney Couloirs of Audubon are an example.  They are quite climbable on the snow in June and even July.  But by August, the couloirs have no snow, making them much more difficult to scale – for us, impossible.  That is what we learned after taking a reconnaissance hike to check it out the day before.

So after all of our planning, preparation, hiking, and camping, we went home, never able to scale Mt. Audubon.  As we drove back east, we were disappointed and exhausted.

Today we read the story of a man name Saul, a man who set out on a trip, and never quite made his destination, at least not in the way he planned.

Saul was a man on a mission.  The book of Acts tells the story of this man named Saul, a man who took a trip from Jerusalem to Damascus.  His trip took him from the center of his Jewish faith – Jerusalem – to Damascus, a city in Syria 135 miles away.  But how he got there is an important part of the trip.

Saul was a faithful and dedicated Jew.  He knew the tenets of his faith forwards and backwards, surely had the Torah memorized, gave his life to the study and defense of the faith.  Even more, he opposed those who opposed the faith and sought out blasphemers in order to punish them.  The first time we read about him in Acts, Chapter 7, we read the story of the execution of Stephen, a man who was a part of a movement called “The Way”, a sect of Judaism that had strayed a little too far for comfort from basic Jewish beliefs.  This sect spoke about a supposed prophet in ways that could only be considered blasphemous.  This movement and Stephen’s words so angered the Jewish authorities that they drug him outside the city gates and stoned him.  Saul was there and watched it happen.  In fact, he was the one that kept their cloaks as they did their dirty work.

Chapter 8 tells the story of Saul continuing his mission by going house to house, imprisoning members of this sect, The Way, defending the faith.

By chapter 9, his mission was clear.  He had cleaned out Jerusalem pretty well, so he set out north toward Damascus from Jerusalem with a clear vision.  He has asked for letters authorizing the arrest and persecution of those that had fallen away from the faith, those that had joined “The Way”.  As he neared Damascus, he was zealous and angry, his mind set on the vision that God had given him.

But his vision was about to change – quite literally.  The passage that was read tells the story vividly – out of nowhere, a bright light surrounded Saul and his companions and blinded them all.

The light was accompanied by a voice “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?”

Imagine how he felt in that moment: startled, afraid for his life, hurt by the words that he heard.  “Who’s there?” he asked.

“I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting.  Now get up and go into the city, and you will be told what you must do.”

The light had blinded him.  He was powerless and confused, hurt and afraid.  But it was the beginning of the change in his life that would make him a new person.  There were things that he thought he knew – The Way was a blasphemous sect and deserved punishment.  This Jesus prophet was the reason so many good Jews were falling away.  In an instant, all he thought he knew had changed.  He actually made it to his destination, but not how he planned.  He entered Damascus, but instead of the self-assured, clear-minded soldier for Yahweh, he had to be led in blinded and hungry, dazed and confused.

This worship series at the beginning of 2007, we have been focusing on change.  We have heard the story of Jacob and his dramatic name change to Israel.  We have heard the story of Abram and Sarai and their dramatic name changes to Abraham and Sarah.  We have heard about Simon’s dramatic name change to Peter, the Rock.  As I went back and re-read the story of Saul, I looked for that dramatic name change to the new name that most of us know him as – Paul, the preacher and writer of much of the New Testament.  I looked in Chapter 9, when he was blinded and flattened on the ground by the light of Jesus.  Still Saul.  I looked at the last half of the passage, when he was met by a man named Ananias, who healed him.  Still Saul.  I read about when Ananias pronounced the Holy Spirit on him and he was baptized.  Still Saul.  I read when he started to preach about his story, his testimony about how Jesus had spoken to him and called him to a new life.  Still Saul.  I looked and looked for that dramatic name change and did not find it.  It was not until chapter 13 in verse 9, that I found the name change:

“Then Saul, who was also called Paul, filled with the Holy Spirit…”

Wait a minute?  “Oh by the way, he has another name”?  What happened to the drama of Jacob wrestling with and angel?  To Sarai receiving a new name along with her new miracle child?  Where is that great dramatic name change?

But isn’t that usually how change happens?  It is not immediate and clear – even in a case like this where Saul experienced a clear life-changing event.  It took time for him to understand his new perspective of God’s vision for his life.  Now, while it was without drama, it was not without meaning.  When Saul became known as Paul, he was no longer called by his Jewish name, but by his Roman name.  This name change paved the way for him to serve as a missionary to all of Rome, to spread the Gospel beyond Jerusalem and Judea and Samaria, but to all the ends of the earth.  The name Paul was a profound change in his life, as it marked his entry into his role as perhaps the greatest missionary in the history of the church.

Maybe that is your story, too.  Maybe you have been touched by God, but are still trying to figure out if it has changed you.  Or maybe you are in the midst of being changed and it is not clear what your new name or your new vision will be.  Maybe you are still blinded and fumbling, confused and hurt.  “What happens next, God?”

Have you ever taken a trip and failed to reach your destination – and been the better for it?

When God calls us to something, it is easy for many of us to get tunnel vision toward that.  We know what God wants.  We know it is his will.  We know it is clear.  Sometimes the hardest thing to do is to let go of that previous understanding of that vision in order to let it be reworked.  The hardest thing to do is to let God give us a new understanding of that vision.

For Saul, that meant he had to let go of his understanding of Jesus.  He left on the road to Damascus sure that these followers of Jesus…these followers of The Way…had missed the boat.  They blasphemed God in the strongest way possible – deserving death.  But in the course of traveling the road, he was given a new path…a new vision.

For me in Colorado, I had to let go of my assumption about the trip.  My assumption was that the final goal of the trip was to stand on top of Mt. Audubon.  I was going to see for miles.  I was going to accomplish this feat.  I was going to defeat a thirteener.  But in the course of traveling the road, I was given a new path…a new vision.  I was able to see for miles.  I was able to see the beauty and grandeur of the Colorado Rockies, but not in the way that I had thought.  It was a powerful teaching moment in humility and patience to see what God has laid before me.

In a more profound way, I have learned about letting go to see a new vision…

Many of you know that I did a chaplain residency in Columbia, SC before coming to Kansas.  What most of you probably do not know is that I interviewed for and almost went to a similar program in North Carolina, in Winston-Salem.  I went through the interview process and knew for sure that NC is where God wanted me.  Unfortunately, those doing the hiring did not know that, because they rejected me for the residency.  I was devastated as I took my second choice in Columbia.  But looking back, I have since realized that the Winston-Salem residency would have more likely put me on the path to career chaplaincy, instead of local church ministry, which eventually led to Topeka, KS.  It took a blinding light of rejection and a clear new vision of mission for me to understand where I needed to be.

Where are you on the road today?  Are you still rushing off, letter in hand, sure of your mission?  Or are you in the presence of the blinding light of Jesus, dazed and confused?  My prayer for you is that you will hear Jesus’ voice, “Get up and go.  Your mission awaits.”