For I want you to know, brothers and sisters, that the gospel that was proclaimed by me is not of human origin; for I did not receive it from a human source, nor was I taught it, but I received it through a revelation of Jesus Christ.
You have heard, no doubt, of my earlier life in Judaism. I was violently persecuting the church of God and was trying to destroy it. I advanced in Judaism beyond many among my people of the same age, for I was far more zealous for the traditions of my ancestors. But when God, who had set me apart before I was born and called me through his grace, was pleased to reveal his Son to me, so that I might proclaim him among the Gentiles, I did not confer with any human being, nor did I go up to Jerusalem to those who were already apostles before me, but I went away at once into Arabia, and afterwards I returned to Damascus.
Then after three years I did go up to Jerusalem to visit Cephas and stayed with him fifteen days; but I did not see any other apostle except James the Lord's brother.
In what I am writing to you, before God, I do not lie! Then I went into the regions of Syria and Cilicia, and I was still unknown by sight to the churches of Judea that are in Christ; they only heard it said, "The one who formerly was persecuting us is now proclaiming the faith he once tried to destroy." And they glorified God because of me.
How much have you changed over the years? I’m not asking you how much you’ve changed on the surface, whether you look older, have lost hair, have more wrinkles, or weigh more. I’m asking you how much have you changed in your deepest parts—at the center of your being?To what extent are you still who you’ve always been? And if you are basically the same person, is that a good thing?
Whether you know it or not, we were created to be changed, to be converted, to be transformed. The question is, are we, as Christians, a people who seek to be changed and transformed so that we can be set free, or are we a people trapped in a prison of ignorance where we are barred from a better life?
You may not know exactly what I’m talking about, but Jim Townsend sure would understand me. For years, Townsend was trapped in prison—both a physical and a spiritual one. Townsend was born in the early part of the 20th century in Bucks County, Pennsylvania. His mother died early, and he was raised by an alcoholic, abusive father. He learned early that people didn’t really care about him. As a result, he grew up mean. By high school he became a criminal and spent much of his school years in a reform school, where he learned even more criminal behavior. After being kicked out of the marines, he spent a bit more time in prison before getting out and moving to Pittsburgh to start his life over.
He got a job as an orderly and custodian at Allegheny General Hospital, and there he met Alice. This was a woman unlike any other he had met. She was nice, had a strong moral center, and knew how to love Jim. In addition, she was the first person to really shut down his sexual advances, telling him that she would not be active sexually with him until after marriage. They loved spending time together, dating, talking, going to movies and plays. For the first time in his life, Jim Townsend was learning how to live a life away from crime, drugs, and illicit behavior.
Eventually they got married and moved to the Uniontown area. They moved into a small cottage, and for Jim it was idyllic. Then they received a blessing. Alice got pregnant. At first, life was wonderful for them, but as Alice’s pregnancy advanced, she withdrew from Jim. She didn’t have the energy for him that she had had. She didn’t want to be sexually active. Jim didn’t know what to do. He didn’t have the experience to know what pregnant women go through, and so he interpreted her lack of energy and sexual interest as a rejection of him. He became more despondent and angrier as the weeks progressed. Eventually. he began to threaten her. And then one day he pulled a gun on her, accusing her of having another lover. He wasn’t making rational sense, but when his anger took over, there was little room for logic. He threatened her, and suddenly a shot went off. Without really intending to do so, he shot her and killed both her and their baby.
For the next few days he tried to concoct a story about a stranger in the area threatening them, but the police figured out the real story. Within a few days he was arrested and sent to prison for murder.
In prison, Jim became more and more bitter. He slipped back into old habits. He became a prisoner’s prisoner, trying to intimidate some, while conning others. All the while, Jim thought about escape, plotted about escape. Ten or more years after he had been imprisoned for murder, he came up with an escape plan. He noticed that prisoners who worked in the chapel had more freedom, including getting keys to the chapel door, which led to a less restricted area—an area through which escape would be easy. Jim decided to patiently plot his escape. He would start by going to chapel every day.
He didn’t believe in God, but figured that he could endure an hour or so of religion in order to escape. He cleaned up his language and his appearance, and showed up for chapel. He also started going to confession, making up all sorts of sins, but rarely or never sharing any real sins. A year or so later he joined the chapel committee, cleaning the chapel. He was a model worker, cleaning better than anyone else. Jim knew that trust came with hard work, and he was willing to work hard if it meant escape. Over time, the priest trusted Jim more and more, giving him more tasks to do, which Jim did excellently. Then came the day. Jim Townsend was given the keys to the chapel, and with it more responsibility. This was what he was waiting for. He was being given his opportunity to escape, and he knew just how we would do it. But a funny thing happened. He delayed. He wanted to escape, but he had also enjoyed his time in the chapel. He liked being given responsibility. He liked the chapel services. And he found that he was a different man. He was praying to God. He was reflecting on his life. He still wanted to escape, but he kept thinking that he would do it someday soon when he was more ready.
The years went by, and he never tried to escape. Eventually, the priest, Father Jim Walsh, took him aside and asked him why he had never tried to escape, knowing that Jim still harbored a desire. Jim told him that he was changing, and that he sensed God working in his life. They talked long and hard about Jim’s life, and afterwards, Jim made his first real confession, confessing all that he had done in his life. They then prayed for Jim to be healed. And afterwards an amazing thing happened. For years his sleep had been troubled by a recurring dream of his wife, Alice, and a small child appearing to him. The child would ask him, “Why, Daddy?” After his confession and healing prayer, the dream changed. He saw Alice and the child, and the child said to him, “I love you, Daddy.”
Things also changed for Jim in other ways. Father Walsh asked Jim one day if he would like to be free. Jim said that he was already free spiritually, but Father Walsh was talking about being released from prison. From that point onward, Jim had one amazing coincidence after another, and within a year he was released from prison.
Jim went on to work as a handyman on the South Side of Pittsburgh, and in the South Hills, gaining a reputation as a scrupulously honest and hard worker. He also got very involved in the local church, gaining a reputation as a simple, loving, and prayerful man. Eventually he became involved with the local Capuchin order, a Catholic religious order devoted to prayer and service, in the Lawrenceville section of Pittsburgh. He became a friar in the early 1970s. Today, he is a brother in the order, and spends his time giving advice to people, praying for them, and giving talks around the state and country (especially in prisons) about how people can be changed by God. And he now goes by the name Brother Jim.
Brother Jim is considered to be a man with wisdom beyond his years, even if he is loder now. He is the perfect example of the kind of change, conversion, and transformation that God calls us to. I don’t mean that we have to kill someone to be changed. Instead, he is an example of how deeply God can change us if we let God. If you would like to read more about Brother Jim’s amazing transformation, you can find it in the book, The Prisoner, by Paul Everett, a Presbyterian pastor.
You know, it’s funny: some people hear a story like this and say, “How could God care so much about a guy who had done something so horrible? Why would God forgive someone like him?” But I have a theory about that, which is that God cares much more about our being converted than about our being perfect. In other words, God cares much more about how willing we are to have our lives be changed for God, than about how perfect we are in our lives.
The apostle Paul is the perfect example of this. Paul was a killer like Jim Townsend. Prior to his conversion, Paul was a chief persecutor of Christians. He oversaw the stoning of the first Christian martyr, Stephen. He had Christians arrested all throughout Jerusalem. As he says in our passage, “I was violently persecuting the church of God
and was trying to destroy it.” Few had the zeal for persecuting Christians that Paul had, and yet God converted and transformed him into the man most responsible for spreading Christianity throughout the Roman Empire.
We were created for conversion. We were created for transformation. The examples I’ve given are of big transformations, but we don’t have to have lived a terrible life to be called to change. No matter what our situation is in life, we are called to conversion, to change from being earth-bound to heaven-bound. And the symbol of this conversion is the butterfly.
There’s a reason why the butterfly is such a powerful Christian symbol. Think about the butterfly’s transformation. The butterfly isn’t just a symbol of Jesus coming out of the empty tomb. The butterfly is a symbol of the kind of transformation we are called to.
Think about the caterpillar. The caterpillar is a young, immature butterfly. It lives an earth-bound life. Caterpillars can be pretty little creatures, but for the most part they are fairly destructive. They do what caterpillars do. They climb plants and eat leaves. They end up being destructive, with some caterpillars able to destroy large swaths of forests. They are living the life of a caterpillar. They don’t know they are being destructive, but they are. We are like that before we let God change us. Because we aren’t aware spiritually, we are destructive of life around us and are self-destructive, perhaps just in small ways. People without God think mostly of themselves, and so they become destructive, even if they are good.
The change comes when we give ourselves over to God. Like caterpillars entering a cocoon, we enter a period of life that can be dark and uncertain, as God changes us. We don’t know what we are becoming, but we are becoming something new nevertheless. Then we emerge, like a butterfly coming out of a cocoon. Think about the butterfly. It isn’t earth-bound, it’s heaven-bound. It lives a completely different kind of life, soaring through the air. And think about what it does with its life. It now eats nectar instead of leaves. And as a result, it goes from flower to flower, spreading pollen as it does. Instead of destroying life and being self-destructive, it gives life. It pollinates the plants, and therefore allows for more growth and more life. This, again, is what we are called to do. When God transforms us, God changes us in a way that changes our lives. We become something better. We give life instead of taking it. We contribute to life and make life better. We become heaven-bound.
You and I were created for transformation. The question is, are you ready and willing to be transformed?
Amen.
