Left! Right! Left!
- Rev. David Collins
- Sep 8
- 9 min read
Homecoming Sunday
September 7, 2025
Galatians 5:22-23 & 25
Rev. David Collins
The name “Homecoming” always makes me think about high school. There’s the big homecoming game and the homecoming dance.
I can’t play football. That much became clear early on. I remember one game in PE where I somehow ended up with the ball, completely by accident, and froze. Everyone was yelling, and I didn’t know which way to run. I just stood there like I was holding a live grenade. Eventually someone tackled me, which felt like a relief, honestly. At least then I didn’t have to decide. Though it was flag football so maybe it was personal? Anyway… football wasn’t my calling.
But I do love dancing. I really do. I just wish I had the talent to match the enthusiasm.
In high school, I was in the musicals…big surprise, right? And every time, no matter what role I had…even when if was the lead…the choreographer would find a way to gently scoot me to the back during the big dance numbers.
There I’d be, giving it everything I had, but you can’t see my feet, behind the covering wall of more coordinated classmates.
Real dancing just never looked quite right on me. Something about how my hips relate to my feet. I can tell that they’re connected but they don’t seem to know.
I’ll never forget one rehearsal where I was flailing through this routine, just completely off. And the choreographer at the time was this incredible man named Ray Hatch, and he stopped everything, and took me aside, and looked at me kindly, and said, “David… you may never get these steps exactly right. So why don’t you focus more on staying in step with the spirit of the song.”
Which… is probably the nicest way anyone has ever said, “Boy you are terrible, and I can’t help you, so maybe just move your arms, and enjoy yourself”
Because he knew, from the everything about me, that I would never become one of those dancers that we all love to watch. You know the ones …who do every move perfectly and are completely absorbed in the song, and they just radiate joy and passion and love?
Ray knew that the best I could ever pull off would be to be one of those dancers who are clearly counting and thinking really hard about what step is next, and their faces just look…miserable.
And this isn’t just about dancing. We’ve all confused performance with connection.
We’ve all confused performance with connection.
Not just in dancing or onstage or at work, but in deeper places too. In the ways we try to be faithful. In the ways we try to love. Not that trying is wrong. Doing the right thing matters. Even if your face doesn’t agree.
But sometimes, even when our actions are right, our spirit isn’t in it. We’re going through the motions. We’re technically correct, but emotionally absent. We’re doing what’s expected, without ever letting ourselves be moved.
And if we’re not careful, we start living that way…checking the right boxes, following the steps, but missing the music. Missing the Spirit.
That’s the real problem. Not that we get it wrong, but that we’re not with it. Not really present. Not in step with the spirit of the song.
Maybe you’re feeling like that right now.
Maybe you’ve been going through the motions…being polite, being productive, being responsible…but deep down, you feel disconnected.
You might be the spouse who’s stuck in step, but not in love.
Or the volunteer who’s still serving... but mostly out of guilt.
Maybe you’re one holding your family together, making meals, running errands, showing up for everyone…but feeling invisible.
Maybe you keep praying, even though it feels like your prayers just bounce back at you.
And the quick fix is just to quit, right? Quit doing whatever drains you. And sometimes that can be the right option.
But quitting isn’t the only answer. Sometimes the invitation isn’t to walk away…but to wake up. To come back to yourself. To pay attention to the rhythm underneath it all, the one you may have forgotten you were even supposed to be dancing to.
That’s what the letter to the Galatians is about.
Galatians
It’s a letter full of passion, written to people who, like us, sometimes lost the plot. People who got caught up in rules and routines, in proving themselves and protecting appearances…people who started out in step with the Spirit, but somewhere along the way, forgot how to hear the music.
The letter was written in response to the first big tension in the early church, over circumcision, which comes up a whole lot in the New Testament but almost never in conversation today.
It is a point of interest in the New Testament because when the good news about Jesus Christ got out of Israel, it really took off among people who weren’t raised Jewish, and once they came to faith, some of the religious authorities told them that if they wanted to make extra sure they were right and good and on God’s side now, then they needed to be circumcised, and the Apostle Paul was like whoa! Pump the brakes! And wrote this letter to show that not only did they not have to, but that if they did, it would show that they didn’t really believe the good news that had brought them to Jesus in the first place.
The letter culminates in this list of actions and character traits that Jesus gives and grows in his people that we call the fruits of the Spirit —love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. (Galatians 5:22-23)
It’s not a to do-list though. Not a list of things to try harder at, but signs of life. Signs that the Spirit of Jesus is alive in us.
So over the next few months, we are going to look at all the fruit, piece by piece.
But before we get to the fruit, today I want to start with one verse in Galatians just a little further down that captures the essence of the whole thing.
It speaks to the people were saying, “If we just follow all the rules, if we do everything the way the religious authorities expect, then we’ll be safe and right with God.”
And honestly, that can sound appealing. Rules give us boundaries. They make things clear. They give us a way to measure ourselves.
But Paul writes that there is more at stake than just safety. He tells them that if they settle for living only by the rules, they are actually cutting themselves off from the Spirit. They might look religious on the outside, but they will be missing the life and freedom that comes from God on the inside.
So he calls them to something bigger. Not just to follow the rules, but to live by the Spirit of Jesus. Because rules can restrain us, but they can’t set us free. They can shape our behavior, but they can’t transform our hearts.
And so it all kind of culminates, at least to me, in this short verse.
“If we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit.” Galatians 5:25
Which is one of those verses that if you say it cross stitched on someone’s wall, you might not look twice at, but this word for “keep in step with” was often used to describe soldiers marching.
Keep In Step
Think of perfect rows and columns of warriors moving together in rhythm. Left, right, left, right, left. No room for improvisation. No one stands out. Everyone has fallen into line.
Which is admittedly a pretty common picture of church, but it’s not one that we usually have. And it’s kind of the opposite of what Galatians seems to be saying about following rules.
But maybe there’s something more going on here.
Because I don’t know about you, but what I need right now isn’t more clarity about what’s right and wrong. Most days, I know what I’m supposed to do. What I need is the strength to do it. The courage to keep going when it feels like nothing’s changing. The motivation to put one foot in front of the other, even when my heart’s not in it yet.
I need to hear the voice of my spiritual sergeant saying/singing:
Love, joy, peace, and patience too... Left, Right, Left!
Kindness, goodness, coming through... Left, Right, Left!
Faithfulness and self-control... Left, Right, Left!
Marchin’ on, heart, mind, and soul... Left, Right, Left!
Sometimes we need something that simple. Not a whole system of beliefs to figure out. Not a perfect feeling to fuel us. Just a beat to move with. A rhythm to remind us we’re not alone.
Because we aren’t! It’s not supposed to be a solo march. It only really works if we’re doing it together.
The Galatians weren’t saved by a bunch of new rules but by the Spirit making them into a new people. A team! A body. We don’t all have to feel strong on the same day. That’s part of the design.
Join the March
Some days, you’re the one setting the pace. Other days, you’re just trying not to fall out of line. And that’s okay. Because when we stay in step with the Spirit together, we make space for one another to keep moving.
So if your joy is low, walk with someone who’s singing. If your patience is thin, stay near someone who’s steady. If your love is running dry, borrow some from the person beside you.
That’s what the Spirit does in community. It’s not just about personal growth, it’s about learning and working together as a group. It’s about a people learning to move together, even when the terrain gets hard.
And friends… it might. The road we’re on isn’t always smooth. The path the Spirit leads us down isn’t always easy or clear. But if we’re in step… if we’re listening for the rhythm… if we’re willing to walk it out together…
Even when it’s awkward. Even when we’re not sure we believe every word we’re saying. Even when we’re moving more out of muscle memory than inspiration.
Because sometimes that’s what faith looks like. Not waiting until you feel full of love or joy or peace… but stepping anyway. Trusting that the rhythm will rise to meet you.
You show up. You serve. You speak gently. You forgive. Not because your heart is already there, but because the Spirit is—and you’re choosing to trust that your heart will catch up.
That’s not faking it. That’s how we grow. One step at a time.
But it’s not always about forcing yourself to move. Sometimes the motivation does come first. Sometimes the Spirit shows up early… fills you with energy, with clarity and conviction… and suddenly you’ve got that fire in your bones.
If that’s where you are right now… if you’re feeling it, if the music’s loud in your ears… don’t keep it to yourself. That’s not just for you. That’s for the rest of us too.
Because in this kind of march, in this kind of movement, nobody gets to carry the rhythm alone. And nobody’s supposed to.
So if you’ve got the joy today, sing it out.
If you’ve got peace, speak it over somebody else.
If you’ve got patience, offer it to the one who’s about to lose it.
That’s what keeps us going. That’s how the Spirit moves… not just in us, but through us.
So whether you’re stepping with conviction or just barely hanging on… whether the music is loud or barely a whisper… whether the feeling is right there or still out of reach…
We move together.
We don’t leave each other behind. We don’t point fingers when someone stumbles. We don’t celebrate alone, and we don’t suffer alone.
We’re a family.
We’re a team.
We win together, we lose together, we get back up together.
So when one of us is strong, we carry the ones who aren’t. When one of us is tired, we slow the pace so no one falls behind. When one of us finds the rhythm again, we shout it loud enough for the whole line to hear.
This is not about competition. This is not about perfection. This is about faithfulness… about showing up for each other… about letting the Spirit set the pace.
Left…right… left, right, left.
Together. Always together.
Because the Spirit isn’t just leading you somewhere.
The Spirit is leading us.
Not just to be better people, but to become a different kind of people. A people marked by love that doesn’t quit, joy that shows up in the dark, peace that holds when everything else is falling apart.
A people who practice patience, who choose kindness, who believe in goodness even when it’s hard to see. A people who stay faithful, who move gently, who follow Jesus together.
This is not weakness.
This is resistance.
This is what it looks like to live by the Spirit.
To walk out of step with the world
so we can stay in step with Jesus.
This is where we’re headed.
This is who we’re becoming.
Not by force.
Not by fear.
But by the Spirit of Jesus.
Step by step. Together.