How to Train Your Dragon

Welcome

Well, good morning friends! If we haven’t met before, my name is Dan and I serve here alongside Jason Phillips as the Teaching pastor. We’re really grateful you’re here with us today!

If you are new with us—or if you are just wondering why the lobby smells like a movie theater—welcome to the start of a series we call Now Playing.

For the next few weeks, we are talking about some of the most popular movies of the last year. And, yes. It’s a whole vibe. We’ve got popcorn, candy, the trailers.

But, from my perspective - entertainment is not goal. We aren't doing this just to have a 'movie day.' We do this because we believe these stories actually do something to us.

Series Introduction

Maybe think about it this way:

We all know stories are powerful. We love to get lost in them. But there is a difference between getting lost in a story and understanding what that story is actually doing to us.

[Share how I imagine this conversation around the couch - with coffee / tea - a lots of conversation.]

Movie Recap

So, let’s talk about How to Train Your Dragon.

If you haven’t seen it….

The story takes place on the island of Berk. And the first thing we learn about Berk is that it is a community defined by war.

They are there are all there for one reason: to kill dragons.

They are a community defined not by who they are, but who they are against. Their unity really comes from having a common enemy.

On Berk, there are Vikings ("Us") and Dragons ("Them"). And there is no middle ground. There is no common ground.

They even have a text that governs their whole society...Book of Dragons.

It’s a manual filled with information on every dragon known to man.

Now, the book doesn't tell you anything about the dragons. It might vaguely describe them...listing some the dangerous feature...it’s really just about how to kill them. In fact, every entry ends with the the description: “Extremely dangerous. Kill on sight.”

According to the Manual, safety requires separation. You stay away from the "Other," or you destroy the "Other."

And this is where we meet our main character, Hiccup.

He is the Chief’s son, but he doesn't fit in. He isn’t big, he isn’t strong, and he thinks a little too much. But he knows the rules of his world. He knows that the only way to be accepted in a community defined by an enemy... is to kill that enemy.

So, during a night raid, he takes this cannon he’s invented, aims it at the night sky, and somehow manages to shoot down the most dangerous dragon of all—a Night Fury.

He tracks it into the woods and finds it tangled in ropes, completely helpless.

And this is his moment. This is what the Manual has trained him for.

He draws his knife. Stands over the creature. Looks down at this "monster" that has terrorized his people for generations. And tells himself, "I’m going to do this. I’m going to cut out its heart and take it to my father. And then I’ll finally be one of them."

He raises the blade. His knuckles are white. He is ready to kill the "Other" to secure his place in the tribe.

Transition

Now, I want you to freeze that image in your mind: A man standing over an enemy, holding a knife, believing that his acceptance depends on destroying what’s in front of him.

And according to the logic of “Berk,” this is a moment of victory! This is what’s supposed to happen, right?

PAUSE

So why is...that anyone watching this movie almost intuitively screams, “No!”

PAUSE

Why?

Why do we root against the hero doing the very thing that will make him a hero in his world?

Think back to the cave analogy a second...

If Hiccup and Toothless are a shadow that makes you feel something...it’s only because there is something real producing that shadow!

See, that impulse doesn't come from Hollywood. It comes from the fact that you and I were made for a different story.

And that’s the story I want to focus on today. So if you have a bible with you, meet me in the New Testament book of Acts. The book of Acts - chapter 10.

Acts 10

I know it’s a hard pivot—but hang in there with me.

To understand what is about to happen, we must get the history right. This is the first account we have of the followers of Jesus after the Resurrection.

But here is the trick: You cannot think of this as 'Christianity' yet. That word didn't exist. What we are looking at is a group of faithful Israelites. They didn't view themselves as forming a new religion or an 'offshoot.' They believed they were the True Israel.

They believed that the great, long story of God’s Covenant—his promise to put the world right—had finally reached its climax.

And the word for that climax was 'Messiah.'

By the time we get to this moment in Acts, this group of Jews in Jerusalem was convinced that Jesus was that long-awaited King. But here is the catch.

For centuries, being a faithful Jew meant one thing: Separation. It meant you possessed the 'Manual'—the Torah—what we would call the Old Testament — given by God himself. And that Manual drew a sharp line in the sand: There was Israel, and there were the Nations - the Gentiles. There was the Clean, and the Unclean. To mix the two was to break the Covenant.

Now we can look at Acts 10.

Cornelius’ Vision

Look with me starting at v. 1.

Acts 10:1–2 ESV

At Caesarea there was a man named Cornelius, a centurion of what was known as the Italian Cohort, a devout man who feared God with all his household, gave alms generously to the people, and prayed continually to God.

A couple of things need to jump out to us here, because if we miss them, we’ll miss the shock of the entire story.

First, look at who this man is. The text says he is a Centurion of the Italian Cohort, living in Caesarea.

We can’t gloss over that. Caesarea was the headquarters of the Roman occupation. It was the 'Dragon’s Nest.' And a Centurion? He is the enforcer of that occupation. This man wears the uniform of the Empire that nailed Jesus to the cross.

To any faithful Jew, he’s not just a stranger; he is a weapon.

But then, look at the twist.

Verse 2 calls him 'a devout man who feared God.'

Now, we need to be precise about what that means. In the first century, a 'God-Fearer' was a technical term. It described a Gentile (a non-jewish person) who was drawn to the God of Israel. They prayed. They gave money to the poor. They stood right at the gate of the Temple... but they were not allowed in.

So, according to the religious script of the day, this man is a walking contradiction. He acts like a Jew, but he is still a Gentile. He is moral, but he is still unclean.

There are firm, unmoving: US and THEM categories.

Peter’s Vision

Look with me, starting at v. 9.

Acts 10:9–16 ESV

The next day, as they were on their journey and approaching the city, Peter went up on the housetop about the sixth hour to pray. And he became hungry and wanted something to eat, but while they were preparing it, he fell into a trance and saw the heavens opened and something like a great sheet descending, being let down by its four corners upon the earth. In it were all kinds of animals and reptiles and birds of the air. And there came a voice to him: “Rise, Peter; kill and eat.”

Okay, what is going on here?

Remember—Peter is a leader in this new Jesu movement, but he is still a first-century Jew. And that means he is operating under the "Safety Manual" of the Torah.

And baked into that manual is a very distinct code. It wasn’t just about health; it was about identity. God had set up boundaries to keep Israel separate from the nations. The logic was simple: If you eat like the Gentiles, you will eventually become like the Gentiles.

So, the dietary laws were the wall. Holy and Common. Clean and unclean. And just like with people, you do not mix the two.

And yet in this vision, God is lowering a sheet that looks like a zoo—mixing clean animals with unclean reptiles—and telling Peter to have a buffet.

And look at his response in v. 14: "By no means, Lord; for I have never eaten anything that is common or unclean."

The way he says this isn't polite. It’s the language of repulsion.

Think about it: he’s spent his entire life avoiding these foods to prove his loyalty to God. The idea of eating this food is absolutely abhorrent to Peter. I mean, it would be like if YOU had this vision, and on that tablecloth was a litter of Golden Retrievers.

PAUSE

What’s the problem with that? Most of us eat meat... is it really that different from eating a cow?

PAUSE

It feels wrong! It feels like a violation of the natural order.

That is the kind of disgust Peter feels. He looks at that sheet and sees chaos.

But there’s a clue here that this is not really about food.

Three times, God says: "What God has made clean, do not call common."

That word "Common"— in the original language, it’s koinos—is the exact same word a Jewish person would use to describe a Gentile. It’s the word Peter would use to describe Cornelius.

And at that very same moment, Peter get’s a knock on the door.

Peter and Cornelius

Three men are at the gate. Soldiers. Men wearing the uniform of Rome.

In any other moment, Peter would have sent them away. But Peter does the unthinkable: he invites them in.

The next day.

Peter travels with them to Caesarea...the the world of How to Train Your Dragon - this is right into the heart of the "Dragon's Nest."

He walks up to the home of Cornelius who’s gathered all his friends and family. The house is packed with gentiles. It is packed with "The Other."

And Peter is standing at the threshold.

This is the moment of truth. Every instinct in his body is screaming that he shouldn't be here. Every lesson from his childhood tells him that if he walks through that door, he is polluting himself.

But he steps inside. And look at the very first thing he says to them:

Acts 10:28 ESV

“You yourselves know how unlawful it is for a Jew to associate with or to visit anyone of another nation...”

He says, "You know I’m not supposed to be here and I know I’m not supposed to be here.

[TRANSITION TO MOVIE]

And it’s hard not see the same moment playing out in the movie where we left off - Hiccup holding the dagger - looking into the eyes of the enemy.

And in his own words says, “I wouldn't kill him because he looked as frightened as I was. I looked at him... and I saw myself.”

Hiccup looks at the "Other" and he doesn't see a monster anymore. He sees a reflection.

And in that moment, he drops the knife.

The "Manual" said kill. But the reality of what was in front of him made him stop.

And this is exactly what happens to Peter.

He is standing in that room, surrounded by Romans, and he finally finishes his sentence in verse 28:

Acts 10:28 ESV

“You yourselves know how unlawful it is for a Jew to associate with or to visit anyone of another nation, but God has shown me that I should not call any person common or unclean.”

Do you hear the barrier shattering?

And that may not sound all that significant…like of course we would agree with that today!

But listen, it’s not at all obvious that given enough time, we all would have come to the same conclusion Peter did! In fact, by every other metric we have, humans have a tremendous capacity to build walls - to put up barriers - to create “others” and and exclude them. Actually we still do it all the time! [EXPAND or MOVE]

The vision of the sheet wasn't about dietary restrictions. It was about people...it was about others! God was showing him that the walls we build to keep ourselves "safe" and "holy" are the very walls that God is tearing down.

And then, Peter says something that changes the course of history.

Look at verse 34. This is the punchline. This is the moment the floodgates open:

Acts 10:34–35 ESV

So Peter opened his mouth and said: “Truly I understand that God shows no partiality, but in every nation anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him.

"God shows no partiality."

For a first-century Jew, that is an earthquake. For centuries, the entire story had been about partiality—God chose this people, this land, this covenant.

But Peter realizes that the story of Jesus is bigger than he ever imagined. He realizes that the Gospel isn't just for the "Insiders." It isn't just for the people who have the right heritage, or the right diet, or the right resume.

It is for the “Other.”

In fact, this becomes the defining characteristic of Christianity!

And this moment... this specific scene in a Roman living room... sets the church on a brand new trajectory.

From this point forward, to follow Jesus means you can no longer build your identity on who you are against. You can no longer measure your holiness by how well you separate yourself from "them."

The defining characteristic of this new movement is that it welcomes the Stranger. It eats with the Outsider. It looks at the "Dragon"—the enemy, the oppressor, the one we are supposed to fear —and says, "I see you and you are not common."

And that is not just the story of How to Train Your Dragon. That is the story of the book of Acts. And if we claim to follow - then that is our story.

PAUSE

At least, it’s supposed to be...right?

PAUSE

A funny thing that happens with stories: we tend to identify with the hero.

When we watch the movie, we see ourselves as Hiccup. We see ourselves as the one brave enough to drop the knife.

But if we are really honest with ourselves... are we Hiccup? Or are we the Village?

Remember, the Vikings in the village aren't "bad people." They are protectors. They are fathers and mothers trying to keep their families safe. They don't wake up in the morning thinking, "I want to be evil today." They wake up thinking, "I need to secure the perimeter."

And this brings us back to the language we used last week.

We talked about what one author, Henri Nouwen often called the "House of Fear."

He observed:

“In this world... we are increasingly tempted to make fear our house, to live in the house of fear."

[I need a brief explanation of the house of fear]

And I think that’s where the Vikings are living. That is where Peter is living. And if we are honest, that is where many of us are living.

But here is the thing that makes the House of Fear so dangerous—and so hard to leave.

In the House of Fear, fear rarely looks like fear. It usually looks like faithfulness.

Think about the Vikings. Killing dragons didn't feel like "scary" to them; it felt like duty. It felt like protecting their heritage. Think about Peter. Staying away from Cornelius didn't feel like "panic" to him; it felt like holiness. It felt like obeying the Bible.

That is the paradox.

We don't see our walls as "exclusion"; we see them as "conviction." We don't see our hostility as "hate"; we see it as "standing for truth."

But here is the problem.

If I ask you, "Who do you exclude?", your immediate answer will be: "No one! I’m a loving person. I treat everyone with respect."

And I believe you.

Because remember—in the House of Fear, fear doesn’t feel like fear. Walls don't look like "exclusion." They look like Common Sense. They look like Safety.

So, if you want to find out who our "Other" is, we can’t look for the people we hate. We have to look for the people we feel the need to protect ourselves against.

So let me ask the question differently.

Who do you worry about?

When you think about the future of this country, or the future of the church, or the future of your children... who is the person (or people) you think will ruin it?

Who is the group where, if you see them gaining influence, your stomach tightens? Who is the group where, if your child came home and said, "Dad, I'm bringing one of them over for dinner," you would panic?

[PAUSE]

Let the image form in your mind. Look at them.

What are they wearing? Maybe they look perfectly polished—designer brands, new car, perfect hair—and you instantly think, 'They are shallow and entitled.'Or maybe they look worn down—clothes that don't fit, looking a bit unkempt—and you think, 'They just need to work harder.'

Look closer. What are the symbols they are carrying? Maybe it’s a bumper sticker on their car that makes you shake your head every time you drive behind them. Maybe it’s a specific flag on their porch. Maybe it’s a red "Make America Great Again" hat.

Who did they vote for? "Him"? "Her"?

Do you feel that tightening in your chest? That feeling that says, "How could they? Don't they know what they are doing to us?"

[PAUSE - LET IT SIT FOR 5 SECONDS]

Now... keep your eyes closed for one more second. Because I have a hard truth for you.

If we are living in the House of Fear... and if we are all looking at the "Other" as a threat to our way of life...

Then realize that right now, there is likely someone else in this room—someone who loves Jesus just as much as you do—who is closing their eyes, picturing the "Other"... and they are seeing YOU.

Open your eyes.

This is why the House of Fear is such a trap. As long as we are all just Vikings trying to kill each other's dragons, the war never ends. The walls just get higher.

And this is why we need the Gospel.

See, the reason we hold onto the knife—the reason we build the wall—is because deep down, we think we are the heroes of the story. We think we are the "Insiders" protecting the light.

But the Gospel tells a different story. It reminds us that before we were the children of God, we were the Other. We were the rebels. We were the "Dragon."

And what did God do?

He didn't just "put the knife down." Justice doesn't work that way. The beauty of the Cross is that Jesus Christ—the Ultimate Insider, the only One who actually kept the Manual perfectly—voluntarily traded places with us.

On the Cross, Jesus was treated as "Common." He was cast out. He took the "knife" of justice that was meant for us. He became the Outsider so that we could be brought in.

And once you see that, your pride is destroyed. You can’t look at that "Other" person and feel superior, because you know you are just a sinner saved by grace. And you can’t look at them and be afraid, because you know the Judge of the universe is already on your side.

Because He laid down His life for us when we were His enemies... we have no right to hold a weapon against anyone else.

PAUSE

Now, I know what happens in the room when I say that.

Some of you are pushing back.

Your internal "Manual" is flashing red. You are thinking, “Okay, wait a minute. Are you saying boundaries don’t matter? Are you saying we just throw open the doors and pretend that truth isn’t real? That we just affirm everything and everyone, no matter what they believe or how they live?”

Absolutely not.

And we need to be precise here, because the Vikings in our head will try to confuse us. The Vikings tell us that the only way to protect the Truth is to build a Wall.

But look at what the Apostle Paul says about this in Ephesians chapter 2.

Paul looks at this exact same divide—the divide between Jew and Gentile, Clean and Unclean—and he describes what Jesus did on the cross.

Ephesians 2:14 ESV

14 For he himself is our peace, who has made us both one and has broken down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility…

Notice: Jesus didn't tear down the Truth. He didn't tear down Morality.

He tore down the Hostility.

He tore down the idea that I can use my "holiness" as a weapon to keep you out.

Look at the life of Jesus. Jesus was the holiest person to ever walk the earth. He had a distinct sexual ethic. He had a distinct view of money, and power, and justice. He didn't compromise a single inch of God’s design.

But he was not afraid of being “guilty by association.”

He ate with tax collectors. He let prostitutes wash his feet. He touched lepers. He got close to the very people the religious "Manual" said to avoid.

The Viking way says: I have to stay away from the 'Other' so I don't get infected.

The Jesus way says: I need to get close to the 'Other' so they can be.

So, no—the invitation isn't to say "anything goes." It isn't to conform the church to the world.

But listen closely: It also isn't to conform the world to US.

The goal isn't to make "Them" like "Us." The goal is that, as we tear down the wall of hostility and meet in the middle, we both become like Jesus.

The Gospel claim is that Jesus takes us exactly as we are—Gentile, Jew, Viking, Dragon, Mess, Saint—He takes everyone as they are…but doesn’t leave anyone as they were.

Application

And this brings us to the final point, and honestly, this is the most important part.

Because if we leave Acts 10 as just a "history lesson"—if we just say, "Wow, wasn't it nice that Peter wasn't mean to Cornelius?"—we miss the magnitude of what happened in that living room.

Acts 10 wasn't just a nice moment. It was a Paradigm Shift.

Think back to the movie one last time. At the end of the film, Hiccup doesn't just convince the village to stop killing dragons. If that’s all he did, they would have just had a ceasefire. They would have tolerated the dragons from a distance.

But that’s not what happens. The entire architecture of Berk changes. They go from a village that fights dragons to a village that rides dragons.

The "Other" stops being an Enemy and starts being a Partner. They realize that the dragons have strengths the Vikings lack, and the Vikings have skills the dragons need. They realize that they are actually stronger together than they ever were apart.

Friends, Acts 10 is the moment the church started riding dragons [rephrase - this is cheesy].

It is the moment we realized that the Kingdom of God isn't built on unity, not uniformity.

And that means for us, living in 2026, the story of Peter and Cornelius isn't just something that happened. It’s a story that’s happening. It is the Paradigm we operate under right now.

Our lives are meant to be extended echoes of that moment in the living room.

Every time you refuse to give in to the "virtuous panic" of the Vikings... you are echoing Peter. Every time you choose curiosity over judgment... you are echoing Peter. Every time you invite someone to your table who doesn't look like you, vote like you, or live like you... you are letting the sound wave of the Gospel bounce off your life and into your neighborhood.

And I want to challenge you to imagine something more for your life than just "tolerating" people.

So here is my question for you this week.

What would it look like for your life to be an echo of Acts 10?

I’m not asking you to solve world peace.

I’m asking you to look at your own living room. I'm asking you to look at your own lunch break.

Who is the person you’ve been keeping on the other side of the wall? Who is the person your internal "Manual" says to avoid?

What would happen if, instead of building a fortress against them, you built a table for them?

It feels risky. I know it does. It felt risky for Hiccup. It felt risky for Peter. But on the other side of that risk isn't danger. On the other side of that risk is the Kingdom.