Tuesday, June 25, 2019
Sunday, June 16, 2019
Sermon: Trusting in Hope
Romans 5:1-5
Trusting in Hope
James Sledge June
16, 2019
“Tim,
will you please stop sabotaging this meeting with hope?!” That’s
the opening line from an article I read on the Presbyterians Today Blog. Tim is a pastor who’s been brought in to
help revitalize a church after twenty years of decline. His diagnosis is that
the church has become captive to the functional
and needs to recapture the spiritual.
Here’s
how the blog post defines functional. “It’s a secular style of operating that
slowly pushes a deep awareness and embrace of God’s presence and guidance away
as we try to do things decently and in order. Functionality cares more about
how the church functions than about how well it leads us to deeper
experiences and encounters with God.” [1]
Of
course it is a lot easier to be functional than spiritual. The world runs on
the functional, and our culture, our schooling, and most of our work experience
trains us to be functional. Inevitably, it creeps into the church, and many of
you have experienced it. You’ve been to a committee meeting that has a prayer
at the beginning and perhaps another at the end, but the meeting itself happens
with absolutely no awareness of the Spirit or that God is present.
Pastor
Tim ran into something like that at the Finance Committee meeting. The blog
post was short on details, but they’re easy enough to imagine. The committee
member said something like, “There isn’t enough money in the budget for that.”
And the Pastor Tim said something like, “If this is what God is calling us to
do, then God will provide a way.”
It
was probably not the first time for such an exchange, but this time, the
committee member had had enough. And he yelled, “Tim, will you please stop
sabotaging this meeting with hope?!” before walking out on the meeting.
What
an odd idea, sabotaging with hope. When I think about sabotage in
organizations, I usually think of people trying to shut down hope. People get
excited about a new idea and began to hope that it might help the organization,
but then the naysayers come out. They begin to point out all the risks and all
the things that could go wrong. They work to undermine hope and excitement. But
this finance committee member accuses the pastor of sabotaging things with
hope. Who knew that hope could cause so much trouble?
Monday, June 10, 2019
Sabbatical Doubting
We are nearing the end of a several year's long process that we have labeled "Renew," and this summer marks a time of transition from and old, heavy-on-the administrative-side committee structure to a new structure that is more focused on ministry. Summer is when the new teams will come up with priorities and implementation plans for the program year that begins in September. And I will be gone for much of that time.
All this is context for my recent church newsletter article which I've copied below.
Sisters and
brothers in Christ,
As summer
approaches, I find myself feeling a little uneasy. I’m not quite certain how to
describe it. Neither worry nor concern nor trepidation seems quite right, but it’s something like that. My
upcoming motorcycle sabbatical might seem a likely culprit, but I think not. I
am truly looking forward to the trip, and I worry less about riding the
highways of the American Southwest than I do the freeways of DC.
Another
potential source of uneasiness is our Renew process. This summer will be an important
time as the new Mercy, Worship, Justice, Spiritual Growth, Community Building,
and Ministry Support teams begin to set priorities. The will develop focus and
plans to help live into our mandate: Gathering
those who fear they are not enough, so we may experience grace, wholeness, and
renewal as God’s beloved. And I will be absent for much of that process.
I’d be lying
if I said I had no anxieties about this. But Renew has been a collaborative
project of the Session. I have certainly had input, but I’ve not been the
primary leader. Elders have done the leading and the planning, and I have
little reason to worry that the process will falter without my presence.
That said, I
do think that my uneasiness is related to the Renew process. It’s not about the
capabilities and commitment of our elders, our deacons, or our dedicated staff.
The Renew process is in as capable a set of hands as any congregation could
ever hope. Still, my uneasiness remains, and I wonder if this isn’t a faith
issue.
Our missional
mandate speaks of gathering people “…so that we may experience grace,
wholeness, and renewal…” Appropriately it does not say “…so that we may provide
grace, wholeness, and renewal…” These are not ours to give. They are gifts from
God. No amount of capability and dedication on our part can bring about the
transformation at the heart of Renew. It is dependent on God, on Jesus’ call, and
on the movement of the Spirit, none of which is under our control.
Will we, along
with those we gather in with us, experience grace, wholeness, and renewal as
God’s beloved? And why wouldn’t we? Shouldn’t God be the most reliable part of
this process, even more sure than the capabilities of elders, deacons and
staff?
I see two different
faith issues here. One is about making room for the Spirit. It is easy to get
so focused on the things I need to do, the things we as a congregation must do,
that God nearly gets shoved out of the picture. Many times I have caught myself
functioning as though God was not present, that it is all dependent on us. If we
do not work to stay connected to Jesus’ call, to the guidance and empowerment
of the Spirit, we may find ourselves attempting to do, on our own, what only
God can do.
But there is
a more fundamental faith issue. Is God reliable? The Session has listened very
carefully, spent much time in prayer and discernment, and has clearly heard
Jesus calling us to our new missional mandate. But that mandate asks us to step
out on faith, to risk that God will provide what is needed. Will God provide? I
sometimes have my doubts, and perhaps that’s the heart of my uneasiness.
I have known
people who say their faith is without doubt. I do not trust such people, and
many great Christian thinkers would seem to agree with me. Paul Tillich once
said, “Doubt isn’t the opposite of faith; it is an element of faith… Sometimes
I think it is my mission to bring faith to the faithless, and doubt to the
faithful.” John Calvin said, “…we cannot imagine any certainty that is not
tinged with doubt, or any assurance that is not assailed by some anxiety.” And
my favorite is from Frederick Buechner, “Doubts are the ants in the pants of
faith. They keep it awake and moving.”
I hope my
sabbatical allows me to do a lot of wrestling with doubts this summer. Perhaps
the continuing Renew rollout will provide opportunities for you to do a little
wrestling of your own.
May the summer bless you with fruitful doubting,
Sunday, June 9, 2019
Sermon: Freed and Led by the Spirit
Romans 8:14-17; John 14:8-17, 25-26
Freed and Led by the Spirit
James Sledge June
9, 2019 – Pentecost
When
I entered seminary at age 35, it took me a semester to adjust to the huge
amount of reading. A lot of it was simply something to get through, but some
had a profound impact on me. I vividly remember reading Resident Aliens. This seminal, 1989 work by Stanley Hauerwas and
Will Willimon of Duke Divinity School explored what it means to be Christian in
rapidly changing world. Let me read just a bit of the books provocative
opening.
Somewhere
between 1960 and 1980, an old, inadequately conceived world ended, and a fresh,
new world began. We do not mean to be overly dramatic. Although there are many
who have not yet heard the news, it is nevertheless true. A tired old world has
ended, and an exciting new one is awaiting recognition…
When
and how did we change? Although it may sound trivial, one of us is tempted to
date the shift sometime on a Sunday evening in 1963. Then, in Greenville, South
Carolina, in defiance of the state’s time-honored blue laws, the Fox Theater
opened on Sunday. Seven of us—regular attenders of the Methodist Youth
Fellowship at Buncombe Street Church—made a pact to enter the front door of the
church, be seen, then quietly slip out the back door and join John Wayne at the
Fox.
That evening has
come to represent a watershed in the history of Christendom, South Carolina
style. On that night, Greenville, South Carolina—the last pocket of resistance
to secularity in the Western world—served notice it would no longer be a prop
for the church. There would be no more free rides. The Fox Theater went head to
head with the church over who would provide the world view for the young. That
night in 1963, the Fox Theater won the opening skirmish.[1]
As
Christendom faded, church more and more became optional. A numerical decline set
in that continues to this day. It seems that many were at church only because
it was required or expected. Realizing this was no longer so, people left. So were
they ever really followers of Jesus? And what about the church congregations
that nurtured such believers?
What
does it mean to be Christian, to be church? There was a time, not so many years
ago, when people spoke of Presbyterians as “the Republican party at prayer.” That
referred to a very different Republican party, one with strong liberal and
progressive wings. Regardless, such a label describes an identity rooted less
in following Jesus and more in an easy, comfortable compatibility with
mainstream, middle-class America.
At
the height of Christendom, American-style, people were assumed to be Christian,
and Christianity was often a generalized belief in Jesus mixed with morality,
citizenship, and patriotism. “American Civil Religion,” as it has been called,
was a necessarily vague faith that claimed Jesus and belief in God without too
many details or particulars, permitting it to be compatible with a culture that
subjugated women and people of color, while it happily blessed patriotism,
capitalism, consumerism, and war.
But
now, thanks to a changed world that no longer subsidizes and props up the
church, we’ve been freed from the constraints of that old civil religion and
its Faustian bargain with culture. We have been given the opportunity to
discover who we are on our own, no longer wedded to a culture that expects us
to water down and domesticate the gospel.
Such freedom has proved disorienting,
and many would love to go back. I’ve lost track of all the times retired
colleagues told me how glad they are not to be serving a church nowadays. No
doubt, things were easier, but I don’t want to go back. I want us to figure out
what it means to be Jesus’ church. Not an American church, not a white, middle-class
church, but a church that follows Jesus and calls all manner of people to the
new life he brings.
Monday, June 3, 2019
Sermon: Jesus Shaped Community
John 17:20-26
Jesus Shaped Community
James Sledge June
2, 2019
As
a pastor, I’m fascinated by how congregations work, what makes them tick.
Fortunately for me, there are all sorts of research and books about this. One
particular area of research focuses on how congregations have predictable
behavior patterns based on their size, patterns that cut across denominational
and theological lines
This
research identifies four types of congregations labeled, from small to large, family,
pastoral, program, and corporate,. Corporate church are very large and staff
driven in the extreme. Nearly every program area is directed by paid staff with
the pastor as CEO.
Program
churches have similarities with the corporate, with a number of thriving program
areas. But being smaller, lay leaders provide some of the program leadership,
and pastors can’t be CEOs because they are often leading volunteers. In both
program and corporate churches, people tend to join because of one of more of the
many program offerings.
The
pastoral church may have some strong programs, but its identity is focused very
much on the pastor. Most have only one pastor, but if there is an associate,
and that person visits a member in the hospital, the person may not think they
been visited by the church. And people tend
to join or leave such churches because they like of dislike the pastor.
The
final category is the family church. A lot of churches use the term “family” to
describe themselves, but this category applies to only the smallest
congregations. These churches literally function like families, often with a
matriarch or patriarch who is the real power regardless of governing structure.
The pastor, if there is one, is a kind of paid chaplain.
A
lot of people assume that a small, family church would be the warmest and
friendliest. In truth, they are the hardest to enter. Like real families, becoming
part of one requires being born into it, marrying into it, or somehow getting
adopted. You can get your name on the roll in the same way as in any church,
but ten years later you will likely still be “the new guy” and not quite part
of the family.
Now if you’re not fascinated with how
congregations work, your eyes may be starting to glaze over. But want us all to
think for a bit about what it is that creates a faith community, what it is
that binds you to this congregation or to some other. What drew you to the
church and what holds you there? What is it that makes you feel a part of it?
How strong are the bonds that connect you? Would it be easy to leave if you
were unhappy or would wild horses be unable to drag you away?