3/2/25 Sermon

From time to time, a bunch of ministers get together and write open letters to the church.  Honestly, usually they’re complaining about something and claim to have a radical new solution to revive the church.  And of course, my friends see these letters and send them to me asking my opinion and wanting to discuss them.  A friend sent me one that opened with a striking line:

"To say the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) is deathly ill is not editorializing but acknowledging reality."

That was the first sentence.

Now, I’ll admit — when I hear statements like that, I struggle to take in the rest of what follows. It kind of just shuts me down to the rest of what someone has to say.  It kinda feels like someone walking up to a new parent and saying, “Your baby is ugly,” and then expecting them to be open to further conversation on how to make the baby pretty. It immediately puts me on the defensive.

The letter goes on to argue that our denomination is divided and struggling, and that the best way forward is to separate along ideological lines, embracing a more uniform theology and mission. I’m not convinced that splitting the denomination in order to grow the church is the answer. But what struck me was that the authors of this letter were all white male pastors of churches averaging 2,500 members, with budgets nearing four million dollars a year. These aren’t small-church ministers. Not a single one…

So, when they talk about a “dying church,” I have to wonder — what do they know about this struggle? What exactly is struggling in their mind?

But let me set that letter aside for a moment, because I don’t want to spend our time together deconstructing it. Instead, I want to focus on something I believe the letter gets right:  The world around us is shifting, and with it, the role and shape of the church has to adjust and change too. But the real question isn’t whether the church is changing—the real question is how it should change and why.

There’s a temptation in conversations like these to frame it as a choice between two extremes. Either we cling desperately to the past — holding on to every tradition we’ve ever known — or we throw tradition out the window entirely and embrace every new trend that comes along. But that’s a false choice.

The Protestant Reformation itself teaches us that faithfulness to God often means both preserving and reforming. The Reformers didn’t advocate change for change’s sake; they sought to recover what was most true in the faith by returning to Scripture. That’s why our tradition embraces the phrase:

Ecclesia reformata, semper reformanda secundum verbum Dei.
The church reformed and always reforming according to the Word of God.

Note that last part — according to the Word of God. Change should be rooted in Scripture, not just in cultural pressure or institutional survival. The church isn’t called to reinvent itself every generation, but it’s charged to be faithful to Christ’s call in each new era.

Today’s scripture exemplifies that. In the Gospel of Luke, we see Jesus at the moment of his Transfiguration, standing with Moses and Elijah — two of the greatest figures in Jewish history. It’s a profound image if we stop and think about it: Jesus is firmly rooted in the tradition of Israel. He doesn’t reject the past. He stands within it.

And yet — at this very moment — he’s also moving forward, revealing something new about God’s work in the world. The voice from heaven declares, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him.” Jesus honors the tradition, but he’s also about to fulfill it, transform it, and take it to places it has never been before.

That’s the tension we, as the church, are called to live in. We aren’t meant to be stagnant guardians of some tradition, nor are we meant to be reckless innovators without roots. Instead, we're called to be faithful to what God has done in the past while listening for where the Spirit is leading us now.

So what does this mean for us? It means our criteria for change can’t be cultural fads or fear of decline, but faithfulness to the mission Christ has given us.

Some churches try to preserve the past by resisting any change — locking themselves into patterns of worship and ministry that might have made sense 50 years ago but no longer speak to the world today. Others go in the opposite direction, chasing novelty over depth — becoming more focused on entertainment than on discipleship.  But Neither approach is faithful. And neither approach really works.

The question we should be asking is: What is the Spirit saying to the church today? How do we stay deeply grounded in the core of our faith — in Scripture, in our confessions, in our worship — while also ensuring that our faith is alive and meaningful to those around us?

This is the same challenge the church has faced for centuries. People always seem to act like we’re the first generation to struggle with these issues.  But every generation has to wrestle with how to be both faithful and relevant. In the PC(USA)’s history, we have continually reformed:

When Presbyterians recognized the need for mission beyond Europe, we expanded.

When we saw the call to ordain women, we discerned it through Scripture and practice.

When we recognized injustices in racial and social equality, we reformed our structures.

And we didn’t stop there. The church has continually adapted in ways that honor both tradition and transformation. When early American Presbyterians found themselves on the frontier, they changed how they did worship, meeting in homes and open fields rather than waiting for formal church buildings to be built. When modern science raised new questions about faith, we engaged with those questions rather than fearing them, trusting that all truth is God’s truth.

During the upheaval of the 1960s, as the world wrestled with civil rights and reconciliation, the church responded with a new confession—The Confession of 1967 — calling us to be ambassadors of reconciliation in a divided world. In more recent years, we have discerned how to widen the circle of leadership, affirming that God calls all kinds of people — women and men, people of every race, LGBTQ+ individuals — to serve in ministry.

Even the way we gather has changed. During the pandemic, when we could no longer meet in person, churches adapted. We learned that worship isn’t confined to a building; it can happen in a sanctuary, in a living room, on a laptop screen. And as the world moves forward, many congregations - including this one - continue to find new ways to reach those who might never walk through the doors of a church but are still searching for a place of grace and belonging.

These changes weren’t made lightly. They weren’t driven by cultural pressure alone, nor by fear of decline. They were rooted in Scripture, discerned through prayer, and guided by a deep commitment to Christ’s mission. And that’s the kind of reformation we‘re called to today—not change for change’s sake, but a renewal that keeps us faithful to the gospel in a world that is always shifting around us.

Change is part of who we are—but it must be Spirit led, biblically grounded, and faithful to Christ.

If we’re wondering what change is faithful and what change isn’t, we don’t have to guess. Our own Book of Order provides us with guiding principles called The Great Ends of the Church:

The proclamation of the gospel for the salvation of humankind.

The shelter, nurture, and spiritual fellowship of the children of God.

The maintenance of divine worship.

The preservation of the truth.

The promotion of social righteousness.

The exhibition of the Kingdom of Heaven to the world.

These should be our north star. Every conversation about change—whether it’s about worship styles, mission work, governance, or community engagement—should be measured against these six Great Ends.

Does this change help us proclaim the gospel?

Does it build up the church in love and discipleship?

Does it preserve and proclaim the truth of Christ?

Does it promote righteousness and justice?

Does it help us exhibit God’s kingdom in the world?

If the answer is yes, then perhaps it is time to reform. If the answer is no, then we need to ask why we’re considering the change in the first place.

So where does that leave us? It leaves us with a challenge and an invitation.

It invites us to ask what does this look like for us, here at Highland Park Presbyterian? How do we live in this tension of being both rooted and reforming?

Consider our own conversations about worship, mission, and outreach. We know the world around us is changing—people engage with church differently than they did fifty years ago. Many churches have responded by either doubling down on the old ways or chasing trends, but neither approach is enough. Instead, we should ask: What change allows us to proclaim the gospel more clearly, nurture one another in faith, and exhibit God’s kingdom to the world?

One example of this is how we’ve been rethinking our approach to stewardship. Instead of relying on the same methods year after year, we’ve been asking deeper questions: How do we invite people into generosity as a spiritual practice, not just a budget necessity? That’s reforming, but it’s reforming in faithfulness to our calling.

Or consider our community outreach. We’ve recognized that church isn’t just about who shows up on Sunday morning but about how we serve Highland Park throughout the week. That’s why we’re starting to explore new ways to connect with those who might never walk through our doors but who still need a place of grace and belonging. That, too, is reforming — but reforming according to the gospel.

These aren’t just abstract ideas; they’re ways in which we, as a congregation, are discerning where the Spirit is leading us. And we won’t always get it right. But if we keep Scripture, the Great Ends of the Church, and Christ’s mission as our foundation, then we can trust that we’re moving in the right direction.

The challenge is to not be afraid — not of decline, not of change, and not of tradition. The church has always been called to adapt — not out of fear, but out of faithfulness.

The invitation is to listen together — to God’s Word, to the Spirit, and to one another. The PC(USA) is a connectional church, which means that change and discernment happen in community. We don’t need to separate into ideological camps. We need to seek God’s will together.

Jesus stood with Moses and Elijah, deeply rooted in tradition, but he also led the disciples forward into a transformed future. That’s our calling too.

So let’s hold to what is good. Let’s discern what needs to change. And above all, let’s trust that the One who called us is still leading us today.

Amen.