Sunday, July 29, 2018

Sermon: Letting Jesus into the Boat

John 6:1-21
Letting Jesus in the Boat
James Sledge                                                                                       July 29, 2018

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. The word Lord doesn’t actually appear in the 23rd psalm, but most English translations continue a Jewish practice that replaces the personal name of God with “Lord.” Many Bibles print it in all capitals to alert you to this.
Jesus said, "Make the people sit down." Now there was a great deal of grass in the place; so they sat down… Translated literally, Jesus said, “Make the people lie down,” and they lie down in the grass, in green pastures. Once I saw that, I couldn’t help but hear echoes of the 23rd psalm. And those aren’t the only echoes here.
John’s gospel has no Last Supper, but here, at Passover, Jesus took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, he distributed them… Jesus also distributes fish which was often part of communion in the early church. The first readers of John’s gospel surely saw their own celebration of the Lord’s Supper reflected in this story.
Jesus says, “Gather up the fragments left over, so that nothing may be lost." When God had Moses feed the people of Israel with manna in the wilderness, no leftovers could be gathered. But here the leftover bread, manna, fills twelve baskets.
John’s gospel is quite different from the so-called synoptic gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke. Those three gospels present a very human looking Jesus, but John goes to great lengths to present Jesus as fully divine. Jesus is the Word, the logos of God. In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.
In John, Jesus, the Word made flesh, is the Good Shepherd, the bread of life, the resurrection and the life, God. But the crowd doesn’t get that. They think him a prophet and want to make him king, so Jesus withdraws to the mountain. The gospel doesn’t say how he manages this without the crowd following, but he is God in the flesh, after all.
Once they realize Jesus is gone, the crowd disperses and heads home, leaving only the disciples. As darkness approaches, they make their way to the boat and head for Capernaum, for home. Says the gospel, It was now dark, and Jesus had not yet come to them.
Does that strike you as at all odd? Jesus hasn’t come to them yet, hasn’t gotten there yet, but the disciples head out without him. What’s that about?

Sunday, July 22, 2018

Sermon: In Need of a Shepherd

Mark 6:30-34, 53-56
In Need of a Shepherd
James Sledge                                                                                       July 22, 2018

They had no leisure even to eat. Some of you may know what it’s like for work to keep you so busy that you must eat at your desk. Perhaps your harried, over-scheduled life makes you grab something to eat on the way to school, practice, work, volunteering  or whatever.
Jesus’ disciples have just returned, exhausted from their first mission trip without Jesus, but the demands of the crowd are constant. "Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while," says Jesus. He is concerned about them. Humans are not designed to keep going all the time. They need Sabbath, rest, times of silence and stillness.
Jesus’ concern for his disciples causes him to shut down the ministry for a bit. Unfortunately, the planned retreat gets interrupted. The only alone time they get is in the boat. When they get to their destination, a crowd is already there. Jesus is concerned for his disciples, but he is concerned for crowd as well. They are lost and need help, like sheep without a shepherd to guide and protect them.
I wonder if they realize they are lost. Perhaps they are just curious about this strange new rabbi. Perhaps they are looking for healing for themselves or a friend or family member. Regardless, Jesus sees that they’re lost and feels pity, empathy, compassion for them.
Have you ever thought of God being moved by your plight, compassion welling up in the divine heart because you are harried, tired, hurting, or lost? Have you ever thought of God longing to give you rest, Sabbath, or desperately wanting to give guidance and protection?

Sunday, July 1, 2018

Sermon: Stange Priorities

Mark 5:21-43
Strange Priorities
James Sledge                                                                                                   July 1, 2018

Jairus was an important man, was well to do and influential. People cultivated friendships with him and took him out to expensive dinners. He rode in a black SUV, often accompanied by a security detail, and could always get a good table in the best restaurant.
Some of us know people like Jairus. All of us know who they are. When my wife and I recently flew to Austin, a well-known politician was on the flight. When we landed, all us regular passengers had to wait while she departed. I could look out my window and see the motorcade parked under the wing. Jairus got that sort of treatment.
The woman with hemorrhages was not important. Her name didn’t matter, and Mark doesn’t bother telling it to us. She was simply a nameless, faceless member of one of those groups typically precede by “the.” The poor, the sick, the uninsured, the homeless, the hungry, the foreigner, the prisoner.
We’re less likely to know such folks. We know of them, but not typically as individuals. They’re “that homeless guy who panhandles in such and such intersection” or “that woman with her stuff in the  shopping cart.” We don’t often cultivate friendships with such people. More often we avoid eye contact or move away from them. That’s what it was like for the unnamed woman in our gospel passage.
But this woman had even more problems. Not only had she been sucked dry and bankrupted by the health care system, but she also bore a horrible religious stigma. Her constant menstrual bleeding made her ritually unclean. She couldn’t enter the synagogue or attend public events. This had been going on for twelve years, so even if people didn’t know her name, they knew to avoid her.
Jairus and this woman live in completely different worlds. They could not be more different, but the gospel writer weaves together their stories. Jairus comes right up to Jesus. The great crowd is no barrier to him. People move out of his way as he heads toward Jesus. Jairus is used to being treated with honor and respect, but at this moment, he is a desperate man. His daughter is dying, but he’s heard about this rabbi who can heal, and so he bows before Jesus. He begs.
No one is surprised when Jesus goes with him, and the crowd parts and falls back in behind as Jairus, his security detail, and Jesus head to the house.