When was the last time you changed your mind?

To be more specific—when was the last time you changed your mind about something big?

Paul did.

He was known as Saul, and he was firmly against the church. He was told that these Christians were ruining his Jewish religion. They were a threat. They needed to be removed.

In Acts 7:58, it reads, “They cast [Stephen] out of the city and stoned him. And the witnesses laid down their garments at the feet of a young man named Saul.”

But Saul changed. He changed his mind about the whole Jesus movement. The scales fell from his eyes, and he saw things differently. So differently that he changed his name, which is a tradition in the scriptures. Abram and Sarai went to Abraham and Sarah. Jacob became Israel. Simon became Peter. Now, Saul is Paul and wrote letters we still read and ponder and draw guidance from.

Paul changed his mind. And if he hadn’t, we probably wouldn’t even know his name.

So… when was the last time you changed your mind?

Without Paul, we wouldn’t have the story of Lydia. Her conversion is significant—it marks the beginning of Christianity’s spread into Europe.

Paul traveled to Macedonia, a region in Greece. In the city of Philippi, he met Lydia, a dealer in purple cloth. Scripture tells us, “The Lord opened her heart to respond to Paul’s message.” She changed her mind. She converted. She was baptized. And then—she hosted Paul and his group in her home.

Paul—a devout Jew—stayed in the home of a Gentile woman. In a Gentile city. Places no “good Jew” was supposed to go. But he went. He changed his mind.

This was no small thing.

So… when was the last time you changed your mind?

I was done with church. Too much bad theology. Too many bad experiences. And frankly, I’d rather just watch CBS Sunday Morning and sip coffee in my pajamas than get dressed up and go somewhere.

But then… we walked into a church.

The minister wasn’t even there that Sunday. The kids got up and acted out the parable of the sower. And afterwards? Ice cream sandwiches.

That simplicity struck home. No pretense. No show. Just faith. Just good people talking about Jesus and how we might live together.

We’ve been hooked ever since.

When I think about the times I’ve changed my mind about big things—they didn’t come through arguments. They didn’t come through argument, reason, or persuasion. Usually, when someone’s trying to convert us, we dig in our heels. When someone’s trying to sell us something, we almost always say no.

But the times I did change my mind? These were moments when the experience was overwhelming—when beauty broke through all my opinion and reason.

I grew up with a fear of rollercoasters, helped along by my wary mechanic mom. But then I started dating this young woman who loved rollercoasters. She took me to Cedar Point—America’s Roller Coast. After the second ride, I changed my mind. The experience was just too fun, too exciting. That young woman? We take our kids up to Cedar Point each summer. They’re hooked too. It’s good to note, I only ride these rides. I don’t ride things that were on the highway 30 minutes ago.

So… when was the last time you changed your mind?

I grew up hearing a lot of stereotypes—especially about people who were LGBTQ+.

I was told it was a choice. That it was unnatural. Dangerous. But then I met LGBTQ+ people.

My best friend in college came out. And all those lies I had been told—that these people are a threat—they evaporated. I changed my mind.

Now, I have a unique perspective as a pastor.

A gay young man once told me he gets asked, “When did you choose to be gay?”—completely unprompted—a few times a month.

He usually replies, “When did you choose your parents? Or your eye color? When did you choose to be straight?”

There’s never an answer.

He just is. He just wants to live his life. Being gay isn’t his problem—it’s the hardened hearts of his neighbors that make life harder.

So many of our problems would disappear if we just experienced each other. If we actually listened.

I don’t know much, but I’ve changed my mind about a lot of things. Here’s something I’ve recently changed on. I used to think if you show people the data, they’ll come around. I have found that reason doesn’t change minds. Evidence doesn’t necessarily do the trick. It’s just not the case.

There was a podcast[1] I listened to recently—a story of a father and son. The father was deep into conspiracies. The son sought a way to get the dad out of that paranoid world. The dad made a bet: he would make 10 predictions and for each one that didn’t come true, he’d owe his son $1,000. If they all came true, the son would start listening to the father’s sources. Ten thousand dollars on the line.

How many of the 10 predictions did you think came true?

Spoiler: None of the predictions came true. The dad paid up. But did he admit he was wrong? Nope. He just moved the goalposts. Pushed the dates back. He wasn’t converted. Neither was the son. Reason and evidence didn’t do it.

How do people convert? I think love and beauty do the trick. We change when we’re connected. When we’re cracked open by something bigger than ourselves. Sometimes that “something bigger” looks like kids preaching a parable. Sometimes it tastes like an ice cream sandwich.

You’ve changed your minds, church. In the eight years I’ve been here, you’ve changed.

When we first moved, there was concern about the recovery center going in. “What if those addicts show up? We need it… but not in my backyard.”

Well—it came. Then another. Then a farm. And now? You celebrate recovery. You see people. You see how healing their lives makes a stronger community. The farm has given this community over a thousand pounds of fresh, local produce.

You changed your minds.

You changed your minds about being Open and Affirming. You went from, “I don’t know about this…” to “Well, it’s okay if Luke does it…” to, a year ago, voting unanimously to become Open and Affirming—and giving yourselves a standing ovation.

You’re pondering now how to become more Welcoming Inclusive Supportive and Engaged in Mental Health. You voted on it in January. Mental health is something the church should be talking about. You welcomed the Rev. Dr. Sarah Lund here last Sunday. You’re learning. You’re growing. Soon, you’ll be considering new ways to welcome, love, and serve.

You’re changing your minds. And in doing so, you’re changing other people’s minds—about what church even is.

For many, the word “church” means abuse. Anti-science. Shame. A rigid hierarchy. A demand to assent to doctrine.

But here?

Church is the people. The body of Christ. The promise of God for the forgiveness of sins. A messy, beautiful community. A place where you don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to be at the top of your game. You can come wounded. Come bleeding. Come not ready, as those are the only people here. You’ll find others who’ve been through it too. There is wisdom here. Welcome. Community. And maybe even… purpose.

You’re changing people’s minds about church: what it’s supposed to be, and what it can be. Imperfect and holy. Just like us.

So… when was the last time you changed your mind?

About yourself?
About God?
About your neighbor?

God is waiting on your consideration and answer. And even though they don’t know it, so is your neighbor. For the salvation of the world and the liberation of yourself, I hope you’ll take time to consider.

Works Cited

[1] Mack, Zach, host. “Alternate Realities: A Strange Bet.” Embedded, season 23, episode 1. NPR. February 21, 2025. https://www.npr.org/2026/01/01/1254713697/alternate-realities-conspiracy-theories-bet.