Extreme Makeover

One of the shows I tend to watch on Saturday mornings is, “Sell This House.” This team comes to people who are trying to sell their homes, but haven't had any luck. The team walks into people’s homes that are full of clutter, or walls that are painted a gruesome color of orange or pink, or still have green shag carpet from the ’70’s. The team works with the family in terms of de-cluttering, repainting, reorganizing, and staging the house so it will be more attractive to prospective buyers. The before-and-after difference is usually fairly dramatic.

There’s a lot of those before-and-after shows on now. “The Biggest Loser,” “Extreme Makeover: Home Edition,” “Flip This House,” “Kitchen Makeover,” and the like. I think the main reason people like to watch those shows is because of the remarkable difference of what was before, and the new, remade version of the person or the place.

One of the common statements I hear on those shows is, “This has changed my life.” But I wonder. I'm sorry; I've gotten a bit cynical when I hear people say those kinds of things. I wonder if just because a person gets the interior of their house redone, or they shed 150 pounds that they really become different people. It’s entirely possible that you can lose 150 pounds and still be the same old cantankerous curmudgeon that you were before. You can get a whole new house and still remain a negative, back-stabbing, gossipy kind of person. So what’s really changed? Has life really, dramatically shifted for these people?

We are a culture so hung up on externals. If we have some major work done on our facade, we think it will also affect our heart and soul. A new dress, a new hairstyle, liposuction, or whatever, may change your mood for a short period of time, but do those kinds of changes really affect your character? You may redo a kitchen, or redecorate your home, but does that, at the same time, make you into a different human being? Do those kinds of outward, appearance changes really get deep down to who you are as a person?

Our externals orientation fools us into thinking that we can make deep changes with shallow tactics. It doesn’t take us very long, after an external change has been made, that we realize we are the same, empty, dissatisfied people we were before. Nothing meaningful has shifted.

So how can we make those deep shifts that really do help us to realize, “This has changed my life”? Paul was great about making these before-and-after descriptions. But Paul’s call for change always has to do with what’s basic to a human being, not what’s on the surface.

Like here in Ephesians. In these eleven verses. Here’s the “before” picture:
“the uncircumcision” (outsider)
without Christ
alienated
strangers
far away from God
barrier
the Law
two “men” (the old man and the new man)
hostile to God
having no hope
without God

This description is what you have to own up to, if you are going to buy into what Paul is saying here. This is the kind of person you were, at some time. I'm sure, if you're like me, you want to say, "I'm not that bad." Or you might say, "I grew up in the church and have never felt alienated from, or hostile to God." To that I say, then look at this before picture as what you would have become. All of us have this almost natural inclination to turn into this before picture at any time.

And here’s the “after” picture:
the “circumcision” (insider)
citizens
God’s household
brought near
broken down barrier
the Law canceled
one “man”
united to God

As you can see, this before-and-after list has nothing to do with how much you weigh or what your house looks like. It has to do with your relationships: your relationship to yourself, your relationship to others, and your relationship to God.

What’s interesting to me about these two lists is what Paul interlaced within them. In describing who we are, before-and-after, Paul says that Jesus “is our peace,” is “making peace,” and, “preached peace.” That’s how we move from the before picture to the after picture. The difference in who we are has to do with the peace of Christ. Peace in Jesus, made by Jesus, preached by Jesus, is the catalyst that makes the significant change from who we are, to what we can become.

The difference that Paul is describing has to do with inner peace, peace between ourselves and others, and being at peace with God. Think about your lives. Think about the kind of extreme makeover that would make a real difference in who you are. Does it not have to do with your sense of peace?

I would guess that those who are trying to alter their bodies, or alter their homes, in some quest of making an extreme makeover are really motivated by a search for peace. Peace with who they are. Trying to find peace with their place in this world of relationships. Longing to be at peace with God and things spiritual and eternal. Because THOSE are the things that really matter and are life changing, according to Paul.

So, peace with who you are. Peace with your place in the world of relationships. And peace with God. I'm only going to deal with the first level of peace this morning. Sorry, it's all I'll have time for.

Peace with yourself. The first truth about coming to a place of personal peace, according to Paul is to understand that Jesus is the one who puts us together. Being at peace has to do with whole-ness of personhood. Paul said that before we came to know Jesus, it was like we had this dividing wall within us. The wall was effective in many dysfunctional ways. Individually, the wall separated us from ourselves. That internal separation kept us from ever feeling whole, complete, or personally unified. Never quite fully ourselves. Always disjointed. Feeling uncompleted. In other words, never at peace with ourselves.

Paul uses an interesting image of this divided self. In the old Revised Standard Version of the Bible, or the King James, you’d see the terms “old man” and “new man” used in these verses. Paul uses that image throughout his letter to Ephesians. Within us is the “old man.” The old man does at least a couple of things in our internal processes.

First, the old man is the memory of all of our mess-ups and screw-ups. The old man is that part of us that won’t let us forget the things we’re ashamed of. Not only does the old man remember that stuff, the old man beats us over the head with it. The old man is that part of us that won’t let us forgive ourselves. Even though God and everyone else has forgiven us, the old man keeps whispering in our inner ear, “You don’t deserve it. Your past will drag you down the rest of your life.” That’s part of the old man’s tactics, says Paul.

The other thing the old man does to us is act as our inner critic. Those of you who are writers or artists know the inner critic all too well. It’s that nagging voice that you’ve never done good enough. This voice of the old man is the constant negative, criticism that makes us feel we will never do anything right, well, or worthwhile.

If you’re a fan of the comic strip, Calvin and Hobbes, you’ll remember that Calvin would often approach, with clip board in hand, his father telling him about the latest polls. In one series of strips, Calvin was looking at his clipboard, and saying to his father, “You’ll be glad to know I’ve analyzed your poor showing in the polls.”
His father, while reading the newspapers, says, “I’ll bet.”
Calvin continues: “See, your record in office is miserable and the character issue is killing you. Your basic approval rating among six-year-olds hardly registers.” Then Calvin says, “If anyone ever needed a slick ad campaign, it’s you.”
“Let me guess what you have in mind,” Calvin’s father says rolling his eyes.
“I call it, ‘The NEW Dad,’" says Calvin. "I worked up some slogans. See what you think.” Then Calvin reads the slogans off his clipboard to his father:
“Dad--Gradually he catches on.”
“Vote dad! This time, he’ll do better.”
“To forgive is divine--vote Dad.”

Calvin typifies the inner critic in us all. Clipboard in hand, we hear it’s voice about why we’re no good, unforgivable, or can’t do anything right. So when Paul talks about the “old man” that’s part of what he means: the legalist, beating yourself over the head with should's and oughts

But on the other side of this dividing wall is the "new man." The “new man” is that part of us that yearns for God, that longs for grace, that dreams about second chances. This dividing wall that Paul talks about separates that part of us that yearns to be at peace, from the part of us that can’t let go of the past, and badgers us with the inner critic. What Christ has done is break this wall down within us, so that the two come together. Under the power of Christ, the “old man” is subdued and usurped by the new man. Finally, all that the old man was, is gone. Then, Christ brings us to a place of inner peace with which to go out into the world, and engage all of our other relationships.

Paul says that in Jesus, that inner wall that is within each of us, is torn down, in Christ. In place of a divided self there is a self that is whole. One man, says Paul. In Jesus, we are put together. In Jesus, we come to that place of peace with ourselves. We never feel like we are coming at the world as a disjointed self.

In a Peanuts cartoon Lucy demanded that Linus change TV channels, threatening him if he didn't. "What makes you think you can walk right in here and take over?" asks Linus.
"These five fingers," says Lucy. "Individually they're nothing but when I curl them together like this into a single unit, they form a weapon that is terrible to behold."
"Which channel do you want?" asks Linus. Turning away, he looks at his fingers and says, "Why can't you guys get organized like that?"

That’s the inner sense of unity and peace we gain in Jesus. Apart from Jesus, we feel like five separated fingers. In Jesus, and the peace he gives us as individuals, all the parts come together, and feel stronger to stand up to the world.

Paul knew that if Christ is going to make a difference, it’s got to start in our own lives. It’s got to start with that inner part of us that always seems to feel dis-settled and disjointed. The divided self has to go. The only way to bring peace and a sense of wholeness is through Christ. In Christ, from that place of peace, we are ready to really live.