Timothy J. Clarke - The Process of a New and Better You

This weekend, I’ve been lifting and looking at the process of how we become new creatures. God does that through the process. Are y’all still awake, neighbors? Stop snoring! Wake up! I said to Minister Bobby in there this morning, there was a lady sitting over there. She was so sweet and said, «I wanted to stop in.» We grew up, and I asked, «Did you say your prayers before you took a nap?» Even that hard should say their prayers before they go to sleep. I had a great sermon; she preached it but slept all the way through it. I want you to wake up to the process by which we experience becoming a new and better us.

See, we’ve been shopping over the new room, the new carpet, the new tile, and the new paint, and God wants to make us new. That’s wonderful, but it doesn’t mean anything if you don’t embrace the process by which it happens. My friend, I have told you about the butterfly and how the butterfly goes from caterpillar to butterfly in a process of metamorphosis. In that cocoon, there is a process by which that caterpillar is transformed into a butterfly—from something rather ugly into something beautiful; from something clumsy to something graceful; from something meandering and slithering to something that is almost majestic in its wings and beauty.

It is a wonderful thing, but it doesn’t happen overnight. In the butterfly’s wings, we become everything He wants us to be. Neighbor, say «Neighbor, you see me struggling? Leave me be! Don’t help me out.» Because your help—Oh God! That’s what’s wrong with a lot of us. We want to help, but we didn’t struggle ourselves. In God’s time, He’ll help us. Maybe God is forming somebody through a process. This process of regeneration is what I have to delve into, as I’ve mentioned Saturday night and this morning regarding the theological meaning of the word «regeneration.»

Let’s go over this very quickly: regeneration is literally like in nature—the return of spring—where that which was cold, barren, dead, and lifeless now springs forth with beauty. Another theologian suggested that regeneration is an act similar to creation itself. When God stood in the middle of nowhere on a platform of nothing and brooded, the Spirit of God brooded over creation. The earth was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And God steps into that, and out of chaos, He brings cosmos. Regeneration is likened to that.

This theologian said that really, our lives are like little worlds. Think of the mess your world was in, your little private world—how much mess, darkness, chaos, and confusion there was. And then came Christ; He steps into that and brings order out of disorder, cosmos out of chaos, and peace. That is regeneration. So, this weekend, Saturday night, we looked at how regeneration is the restoration—the return of spring to the soul of man or woman—and God restores some things back to us.

This morning at 8:00, we saw powerfully that this act of regeneration has a process likened unto the re-emergence of things, much like when spring comes, flowers bloom, and birds sing. There re-emerges in nature the beauty of the spring season. But not only is regeneration about restoration and restarting—not only is it about re-emergence and resurgence—I want to close today this three-part series on regeneration by suggesting that in regeneration, there is also a component of resurrection. If I have at least a quarter of a church, I’ll preach this. Would you tell your neighbor, «Say, Neighbor, God not only resurrects us but He allows us to experience resurrection!»

What I believe is that He empowers me to go around bringing life to other people. God, I wish I had help up in here! So, regeneration is not only about restoration and re-emergence, but in a wonderful way, it’s about resurrection. Now, there are three things that happen in resurrection, and I’ll close. The first thing in resurrection is the reappearing of what had disappeared. John says, «Beloved, now we are the sons of God, but it does not yet appear what we shall be; but we know that when He shall appear, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him even as He is.» It does not yet appear. In the same book of Second Corinthians, Paul says that in this body, we groan earnestly, desiring to be clothed with our bodies that will come from heaven. All of creation is groaning and travailing, waiting for the revelation of the children of God.

Y’all are missing this! One of the things that regeneration does in resurrection is the appearing of what had disappeared. Let me see if I can make you understand. It is winter—no flowers, no roses, no crisp fields, no posies, no lilies, no lilacs. No, what’s that one you like? Spring and the emergence through ground that’s hardened. But some rise—God, I feel like preaching this! —that breaks through the soil, and what had disappeared in the winter now reappears in the springtime. Who am I talking to today? Because there’s someone in the room who is going through a winter season in your life, and it looks like everything has disappeared. Your joy has disappeared, but today I announce to you that even though it’s September, spring is coming, and what you thought had disappeared can make it up here…