You may remember that Paul began his life as Saul. In those days he was a fastidiously observant Pharisee with a deadly zeal for purity. On the outskirts of Jerusalem he had held the coats of those who stoned Steven, the first Christian martyr. Not satisfied with being a bystander Saul secured a writ from the temple authorities that gave him permission to travel the Damascus Road in search of Christians. Saul intended to bring them back to Jerusalem and to death. Instead Saul was knocked off his horse, blinded by strong light and convicted by the sound of the voice of Jesus Christ. That encounter would resonate through Paul for the rest of his life as though he was a bell that had been struck by the hammer of God.

Paul had always had a powerful personality. He has been called many things- warm and fuzzy are not usually among them. But in the section we heard this morning of Paul's first letter to the Thessalonians Paul was positively gentle and tender in his approach. Paul referred to himself as a nurse and when he spoke of the affection he felt for the community he used a Greek word that described the ache that a loving mother has for an absent child.

"So deeply do we care for you", Paul wrote, "that we are determined to share with you not only the Gospel of God but also our own selves, because you have become very dear to us."

I know what it feels like to be addressed in this manner. The Rev. Charles DuBois, my Pastoral Theology professor, used to sit on the front of his desk, smile softly at the class then begin his lectures in this way "dearly beloved, today we will discuss..."

Professor DuBois would then launch into a tale from his own parish experience that opened the gospel and his own life to our scrutiny. He shared himself, both his mistakes and his triumphs, so that we could grow in understanding. The words that passed from him to us held wisdom and carried affection. We were struck by his stories of encountering God in community and his words resonate through our actions even now.

This is how people have always been changed- through interactions with other people who care about them and take the time to talk about the things that really count. There is so much static and fog in life- things that obscure or distract without imparting wisdom or any value. It is important to distinguish the difference so that we can pay attention to the right thing.

Jesus was willing to risk everything, including his life, to direct people's attention to God. Jesus did not want anything to get in the way. In the gospel according to Matthew the religious system of the day served up one distraction and red herring after another. But Jesus just batted them down and kept moving forward.

Let's look at the story line that leads to today's reading. Immediately after having entered Jerusalem in triumphal procession, Jesus went into the temple and threw out the moneychangers and the sellers of doves. The whole system of temple sacrifice was intended to honor God and draw people into relationship so that they could be whole and holy. But over time the system had become corrupt and the point became overshadowed by a fascination with the parts and the process.

Look at what happened. The blind and the lame languished in the outer courtyard of the temple while the priests and those who came to worship rushed past them, fumbling to find the right coins to buy an appropriate dove or lamb to sacrifice. The worshippers focused their attention on choosing an animal without blemish and ignored the helpless human beings on their way in - all in the name of following the commandments of God and seeking to be righteous.

Jesus cleared the courtyard. Then he laid his hands on the blind and the lame and healed them. There were no doves up his sleeve, no temple coins hidden in his hands. This was not magic but the power of God present and God honored. This was true sacrifice and worship. What a contrast to the misdirected circus the temple had been a few minutes ago.

In Matthew's gospel Jesus then told four allegorical parables. He spoke of sons and tenants, a wedding banquet and finally of an unprepared wedding guest. All of these stories warned against self-righteous arrogance and encouraged his hearers to distinguish the difference between symbolic actions and real relationship, between empty words and a committed response to the needs of others.

Pharisees and Saducees posed questions that were set like sharp toothed steel traps. After failing to trap Jesus with no-win questions about death and taxes, they moved into a question about religious law. According to the count of careful scholars the Torah contained 613 commandments. Which was most important? Now here was a question that offered several hundred ways to be wrong. But those who asked the question weren't really interested in hearing the right answer. They were invested in hearing an answer that was wrong so that they could discredit Jesus, move him off the scene and avoid having to change anything in their own lives.

We are not scribes and Pharisees but we resist change too. When we are tempted to focus overly much on the parts and the process rather than the underlying principles it is time to step back. Which law is most important? - None of them, and all of them. Behind the fog and static of our current worship practices and the legalistic bickering to which churches can succumb two inseparable principles remain- Love God first and your neighbor as yourself.

This is not some vague warm and fuzzy aphorism but a strenuous tension in which to live out our lives. It is the faithful living with this tension which allows us to address each other as "dearly beloved" and then talk with tenderness about our mistakes and our triumphs.

We love God when we gather for worship, acknowledge the gifts we have been given and try to live our lives as God directs. We love God when we care enough to study scripture to learn what God has been doing over centuries for our benefit. We love God when we take the time to pray- to speak and to listen so that our relationship with the divine can grow.

We love our neighbor when we care enough to pause, even on the way to worship to respond to their needs. We cannot profess to love God but never darken the doors of his house. Nor is it possible to truly love God without caring about the welfare of his other children. Change in outcome requires change in attitudes and actions.

Paul saw life one way. Then he encountered Christ. Paul's life was radically changed and he in turn changed the lives of thousands. The world is a different place than it might have been because all those thousands said "yes".

Where might we say "yes"? Where do your talents and the worlds needs intersect? Look in your bulletin and pull out the stewardship insert. It's a talent inventory sheet - a way to move from intention to action, from who we are now to whom we might become.

Daily we receive invitations large and small to be changed and to change the lives of others in the name of Christ. We may not see the strong light or hear the voice that spoke to Paul. We may be more like stones that are softened slowly by water and time. But God and our neighbor swirl around us and invite us to be formed in people capable of deeper and more loving relationships. This is what it comes down to, God and neighbor, these two; everything else is only the means to point us to worship and to the work.

Amen.