Living in a World of Change

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

You Cannot Go Home Again

i.

Today I want to talk about something I believe we all wish we could ignore. It is imbedded in our Collect, which speaks of the sundry and manifold changes of the world. Whether we use those old words — sundry for various, and manifold for many — we cannot ignore the fact that the world is constantly changing, and we must adapt to those changes or they will surely overwhelm us in a tidal wave of modernity.

I well remember taking family members to where I lived in 1969 as a volunteer teacher; arriving after twenty-five years and discovering the house gone, with only a vacant lot remaining. Thomas Wolfe wrote a book in the 1940s entitled You Can't Go Home Again, and I have found that a truism. I find it interesting as I grow older that my mind tends to dwell much more in the past than it ever did when I was younger. I think it is a side effect of aging: some things just are not the same.

Remember when you watched the Academy Awards on your black and white television and you knew who was up for an award, having seen all the big pictures at the local movie theatre? Now you will not even recognize the names or the faces of the majority of those being honoured. And can you even remember the last movie you went to see? Do you find yourself tuning into an “oldies” radio station, humming along with the songs you grew up with? I could continue, but I believe you understand the main idea.

Change, like death and taxes, is inevitable. The Collect does not give us a way to avoid it; the answer is the One who is always there with us, who wants to abide with us as he did with the two disciples on the road to Emmaus. We can turn to Him and to His comfort. This thread runs through today's readings. One more personal anecdote, if I may.

The Same Yesterday, Today, and Forever

ii.

Perhaps you went to Sunday school. I can remember being about eight to ten years old and being told that we would each recite some Bible verses at the program for our parents that closed the last evening of the session. We were told we would get a prize if we learned our assigned verse. I was awarded a plaster scroll with the words, Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, today, and forever. I hung it on my bedroom wall. The stability that faith provides is a crucial support as we navigate the changes in life, health, and family that the world presents to us. The world is constantly changing, yet God remains immutable.

“The world is constantly changing, yet God remains immutable.”

St. James puts it beautifully: Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning. To me, that means He created the universe, the sun, the stars, and the moon that watch us daily; and His mercy continually protects us, no matter how many times we stumble. He does not give up on us or turn away — every good thing is a gift from God. I have often heard it said, God may not give you what you want, but He always gives you what you need.

In the West Indies, where I lived as a young adult, the believers have a common saying. If someone says, “I'll see you next week,” they often end the expression with, “If God spares my life.” That really says they believe that God is in control — do you not agree? This restlessness of the human heart is not a new condition, yet it feels particularly acute in an era where the pace of change has accelerated beyond our natural ability to process it. We find ourselves caught in a perpetual state of becoming, rarely finding peace in being. This is precisely why we need a source of stability that exists outside of time and tide. When the Collect speaks of God ordering the unruly wills and affections of sinful men, it is a plea for divine intervention in our interior chaos. It is a recognition that, left to our own devices, we are like a ship without an anchor, tossed about by every passing fad and every personal crisis.

The Strength to Face the Unknown

iii.

But the promise of the Gospel is that we are not left to drift. In the face of a world that demands we reinvent ourselves every decade, the Father of lights offers us a foundational identity that never wavers. This identity is not rooted in our career successes, our physical health, or even our social standing — all of which are subject to those sundry and manifold changes — but in the enduring love of a Creator who sees us exactly as we are. To fix our hearts upon Him is to learn a new kind of sight. It is to look at the world's fluctuations not with fear, but with the quiet confidence of those who know the end of the story.

It means that when we face the loss of the familiar, or the daunting uncertainty of the future, we can lean into the presence of the One who said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.

“True joy is not the absence of struggle or the cessation of change, but the deep-seated peace that comes from knowing we are held by the Eternal.”

True joy, then, is not the absence of struggle or the cessation of change, but the deep-seated peace that comes from knowing we are held by the Eternal. As we navigate the coming week, let us not be discouraged by the shifting sands beneath our feet. Instead, let us look upward to the Father of lights, asking Him to steady our hearts and remind us that, while the world may turn, His grace remains our unchanging home. In that grace, and only there, can we find the strength to face the unknown with a smile, knowing that the same Lord Jesus Christ — yesterday, today, and forever — walks beside us still.

Amen.