Joshua 5:1-12 · Circumcision at Gilgal
A Happy Ending
Joshua 5:9-12
Sermon
by Charley Reeb
Loading...

A.A. Milne, the creator of Winnie the Pooh, wrote a simple, yet telling poem in his work, Now We Are Six:

When I was One, I had just begun.
When I was Two, I was nearly new.
When I was Three, I was hardly Me.
When I was Four, I was not much more.
When I was Five, I was just alive.
But now I am Six, I’m as clever as ever.
So I think I’ll be six now forever and ever.[1]

This is a cute poem, but beneath its adorable rhyme lies a very sensitive issue for all of us: resistance to change. The truth is that most of us are creatures of habit, and once we get comfortable we like things to remain the same. If you don’t believe me, look at where you are sitting now. Then look at those sitting around you. Next Sunday in worship, see if you experience a little déjà vu. See if you find yourself and most of those around you in the exact same seat each Sunday. We like for things to remain the same.

Resistance to change is not always bad. In fact, there are times when resistance to change is important. Some things should not change. Certain convictions should be kept, and certain principles need to be maintained. If not, our lives and the world as we know it would collapse. September 11 taught us that! Will we ever see the American Flag without upholding its principles?

However, when resisting change becomes a habit or a response from fear or laziness, it is tragic. It’s tragic because we stop growing, stop maturing, and we betray our potential. We literally stop ourselves from becoming that which we are destined to become.

When resistance to change sneaks in to the realm of faith, it is doubly tragic. In fact, it is downright sinful. Our attitude is “I have been to Sunday school. I have read the Bible. I have learned all I need to know.” And we foolishly believe that we have it all figured out. The result is that we are no longer open to God’s guidance and wisdom. We are no longer open to the various ways God moves in and through us. Instead, we dig our feet in as if to say, “I will not be moved, not even by God.” And then we languish in spiritual stagnation. This is a bad place to be, but it’s so easy to get there. We have grown up. We have been educated. We have decided on a career. We have chosen the person with whom we intend to spend the rest of our lives. We buy a home where we want to live and raise a family, and we join a church we enjoy. Then life happens. And then the worst happens. We sit back, let down our guard, get comfortable, and proudly say, “I have arrived. I am as clever as ever. I am going to stay here forever and ever.”

It is at these listless moments that we become the most vulnerable to temptation, sin, and failure. The exploits of King David are a testimony of this. When he was young and longing to please God, he was driven by God’s dream for him. He went through all kinds of struggles in making himself ready to be king. He agonized night and day, day and night to make sure he was prepared for the future God had for him. Then he felt he had finally arrived. His major battles were completed. Jerusalem was secured as the eternal capital and he was crowned king. He had fulfilled his dreams. He had conquered all foes except one: himself. And basking in self-glory he failed to recognize his weakness. So he fell. And we all know the story of Bathsheba and the murder of Uriah.[2]

It is dangerous and foolish to drift into spiritual stagnation and complacency. John Wesley knew this danger. That is why he directed the small bands and classes to ask each other when they met, “How is your soul? Are you growing? Are you moving on towards perfection?”

The essence of Christianity is change. The outstanding preacher Wallace Hamilton makes this clear: “[Christianity] not only accepts change as part of God’s purpose for life, it demands it. That’s what it’s here to do, to change things, to change the world. And the Christian, because he believes in a living God, faces not toward yesterday but toward tomorrow.”[3] Our Christian history bears witness to this statement because Christian history is filled with stories of remarkable change. And not just change for the sake of change, but change for the sake of God’s Kingdom. Hebrew prophets like Jeremiah and Amos called people to examine their hearts and move from empty worship to a deeper concern for the poor and needy who lived in the shadows of the Temple doors. Jesus called people to change their ideas about who were their brother and sister. Martin Luther called the Church to change its understanding of grace and salvation. Nineteenth-century abolitionists called people to change their hearts and express the change by giving up an economic system that depended on slave labor.[4]

Our scripture lesson symbolizes God’s critical call for change. It teaches us that we as God’s people are always being led from the wilderness of stagnation into new lands of growth and promise. We are always being pushed to move from where we are to where we need to be. God has rolled away the reproach of Egypt — the reproach of our past — and is leading us to new places, new understandings, new experiences, new ways of thinking about our faith, and new ways of living our faith.

So in the spirit of this text, I want us to look at the challenge of change and how we need to approach it.

The End Is the End

Some time ago, the Associated Press shared a story about a man who had entered the country illegally. The immigration authorities sought to deport him, to send him back to his homeland. But as they studied the case, they were confronted with a very unique international dilemma. The illegal alien stood there waving his arms, attempting to tell the authorities in broken English that they could not deport him since his homeland was no more.

He had come from a small country in Central Europe, and in the shifting of boundaries after World War I his country disappeared. It no longer existed.[5]

Is this not what has happened to many of us? The old and familiar world we were so comfortable with is gone. Old ways of thinking and understanding have changed. Life as we once knew it has disappeared, and we can’t go home again. We are people without a familiar framework, and we long for that which once was.

I remember returning to the tennis courts of my childhood. It was the place where I had first learned to serve. It was where I first won a set against my dad. It was a place of happy memories. Yet when I returned to visit these nostalgic tennis courts, my heart broke. All over the courts were huge cracks with weeds growing out of them. The nets were torn and lying on the ground. The green surface was worn down to the hard gray concrete. And there was a sign in front of the courts that said, “Coming Soon: More Classroom space.” They were turning my wonderful tennis courts into a classroom! An old, special place of my youth had died, and I grieved a loss that day.

All of us have difficulty accepting the end of something sacred. We want the old world to stay with us. We want old thinking, traditions, and customs to continue. We want to go back to the familiar and comfortable. In fact, some of us long for the old life to return so much that we resist change altogether. We refuse to accept it and continue living a fantasy of yesterday. Some of us are happy eating the stale manna of the past and are not willing to try the new cakes and grains of tomorrow. We are convinced that we are not going to like the way it tastes.

If we are ever going to be the people God calls us to be, we must “put away childish things” and move forward into change. We need to accept the end of one chapter of our lives and move into the next. We need to accept that our old life has died, and our new life needs to begin.

Perhaps I am speaking to you where you live? Maybe this year has been a challenging one and you want to move on to a better one, but cannot find the energy or courage to take that first step. Maybe someone has hurt you, and you feel it is time to forgive and move on, but resentment has become a good friend. Perhaps a loved one has died, but you can’t seem to bring closure to your loss and get on with life. Maybe you are in an unhealthy relationship, but it’s convenient and you fear being alone. Maybe you have grown out of your present job, but the routine of it is all you have ever known. Maybe you feel called into full-time ministry, but don’t want to give up your lavish lifestyle. Perhaps your faith is growing into new ideas, concepts, and experiences, but the rigid beliefs of your past will not allow you to embrace growth. Do yourselves a favor. In the name of the God and the person God calls you to be, embrace the changes and growth God desires for you!

Did you know that lobsters must leave their shells in order to grow? Apparently, this is frightening for lobsters because the shell protects them from their predators who desire to tear them apart. Yet as they grow, the old shell must be abandoned. If they do not leave the old shell behind, it will soon become their prison and, finally, their tomb.[6]

Don’t remain in your comfortable shell of the past or even the present. Get out of it. If you don’t, you might get so comfortable that you’ll never be able to get out. Then you will suffocate in the knowledge of what might have been.

The End Is the Beginning

One of the magnificent promises of our faith is the promise of new beginnings. Scripture and life affirm this promise. Whenever something ends, something new begins. And out of the negative comes the positive. So it does not matter how bad things have ended or how final circumstances appear. God always creates new beginnings. As God spoke through the prophet: “I am about to do something new” (Isaiah 43:19). God never permits failure to be final or the end to be the absolute end. By the power of God, when something ends, something new always begins. Natalie Sleeth eloquently expresses this truth in the “Hymn of Promise”:

In the bulb, there is a flower,
In the seed, an apple tree;
In cocoons, a hidden promise:
Butterflies will soon be free
In the cold and snow of winter
There’s a spring that waits to be
Unrevealed until its season,
Something God alone can see

There’s a song in every silence,
Seeking word and melody
There’s a dawn in every darkness,
Bringing hope to you and me.
From the past will come the future;
What it holds, a mystery
Unrevealed until its season,
Something God alone can see

In our end is our beginning;
In our time, infinity
In our doubt there is believing;
In our life, eternity
In our death, a resurrection;
At the last, a victory
Unrevealed until its season,
Something God alone can see [7]

This is a profound hymn because it vividly describes God’s promise of new beginnings. Yet the hymn confirms something even more important: God grows us through seasons, stages, and changes. God uses change to stretch and strengthen our souls. Therefore, change is an inevitable part of our faith journey. Remember what Paul said in 2 Corinthians: “All of us are being transformed into the same image [of Christ] from one degree of glory to another” (2 Corinthians 3:18).

We are invited to embrace this transformation. We are called to cooperate with God in these changes that move us through different degrees of glory. God encourages and empowers us to grow, but God will not do the growing for us. We must accept the end, move forward, and begin again with what God has in store for our lives. And as we move forward, we will experience a happy ending because we will feel the exhilaration of a new beginning.

I heard about a woman who felt the exhilaration of a new beginning. She was caught stealing and sentenced to prison. After serving time in prison, she sold everything she had, except for a few necessities, and gave it all away to the poor. Then she moved to the mountains and, as time passed, became an excellent painter. When she reflected on her transformation, she wrote, “When you have been caught, you have nothing to hide. And when you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear. And when you have nothing to fear, oh my, what you can become!”[8]

When we claim our new beginning, the winter of our life ends and spring begins. We realize there is a whole new world of possibilities — a promised life pregnant with potential. We realize there is so much more to life than the small circle we live in. We shake hands with a new purpose and destiny. We no longer keep God in a box. We understand God in new ways because we see the new and different ways God is working in and around us. We see ungodly things in the world we never saw before and are motivated to stand against them. We see Godlike things in the world and stand up for them. We grow in ways that we never thought we could grow. We live in ways that we never thought we would live. We arrive at a level of faith we never thought we could experience. We sense God’s sanctifying and glorifying grace at work within us, all because we said, “Yes,” to a new beginning!

I challenge you to claim the new beginning that God has in store for you. Don’t stay in the wilderness of the end when a new beginning is calling you to “Go,” as Kipling said, “Go and look behind the ranges. Something lost behind the ranges. Lost and waiting for you. Go!”[9] Mark Twain once said, “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”[10]

The Beginning Is the End

When we embrace a new beginning, we are able to celebrate the end: the end of an old, worn-out life; the end of a life stuck in the wilderness of the past; the end of a life once stopped by stagnation; the end of a life stunted by fear. And as we look over the grave of our past and have the happiest funeral of our life, we will affirm with honorable pride, “The old has passed. The new has come. I am a new creation in Christ!” Then God just might say with a lump in his throat, “Finally, my child sees but a glimpse of what I see.” In Waiting for Godot, Vladimir asks Pozo: “Where are you going?” Pozo gives the Christian answer: “On.”[11] As you look upon what needs to change in your life, God is asking you, “Where are you going?” May you respond:

[On as] you make me new
With every season’s change.
[On] as you are recreating me:
Summer, winter, autumn, spring.[12]


1. “The End,” from Now We Are Six by A. A. Milne. Copyright 1927 by E. P. Dutton, p. 102, renewed copyright 1955 by A. A. Milne. Used by permission of Dutton Children’s Books, an imprint of Penguin Putnam Books for Young Readers, a division of Penguin Putnam Inc. All rights reserved.

2. Reginald Mallet, Sermons by the Lake (Franklin, Tennessee: Providence House Publishers, 2001), p. 26.

3. J. Wallace Hamilton, What About Tomorrow? (Old Tappan, New Jersey: Fleming H. Revell Company, 1972), p. 42.

4. Barbara K. Lundblad, Transforming the Stone: Preaching Through Resistance to Change (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2001), p. 125.

5. Hamilton, pp. 38-39.

6. Brent Mitchell, Fresh Illustrations for Preaching and Teaching from Leadership Journal, ed. by Edward K. Rowell (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Book House and Christianity Today, Inc., 1997), p. 43.

7. Natalie Sleeth, “Hymn of Promise” copyright 1986 Hope Publishing Co., Carol Stream, IL 60188. All rights reserved. Used by permission. Hymn appears in The United Methodist Hymnal: Book of United Methodist Worship (Nashville: The United Methodist Publishing House, 1989), #707.

8. Shared with me by Reverend Brad Dinsmore.

9. From Rudyard Kipling’s, “The Explorer,” www.poetryloverspage.com.

10. Quoted in David C. Cooper, The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success (Atlanta: Discover Life Ministries, 2000), p. 73. Used by permission.

11. William Sloane Coffin, The Courage to Love (San Francisco: Harper and Row Publishers, 1982), p. 90.

12. Nichole Nordeman, Every Season, copyright 2000 Ariose Music (adm. by EMI Christian Music Publishing). All rights reserved. Used by permission.

CSS Publishing Co., Inc., One Heaven of a Party, Year C Sermons on the First Readings, by Charley Reeb