Monday, February 24, 2020
Sunday, February 23, 2020
Semon: Listen to Him!
Matthew 17:1-9
Listen to Him!
James Sledge February
23, 2020
Lately
I’ve been thinking about quitting Facebook. Too much nastiness there, too many
conspiracy theories, too much political manipulation. And maybe Mark Zuckerberg
might address some of the damage Facebook does to our society if enough people
quit using it.
But
then some colleague or notable person that I follow posts something wonderful
that I would never have seen otherwise. That happened the other day when
Frederick Buechner posted something on his page. I may yet ditch Facebook, but
I’m glad I saw Buechner’s post.
For
those who don’t know of him, Buechner is a Presbyterian pastor who’s probably better
known for his novels, essays, and short stories. The other day he posted something
from an old book of his. It’s a bit longer than the typical sermon quote, but I
hope you’ll indulge me.
PREPOSITIONS CAN
BE VERY ELEGANT. A man is "in" architecture or a woman is
"in" teaching, we say, meaning that is what they do weekdays and how
they make enough money to enjoy themselves the rest of the time. But if we say
they are "into" these things, that is another story. "Into"
means something more like total immersion. They live and breathe what they do.
They take it home with them nights. They can't get enough of it. To be
"into" books means that just the sight of a signed first edition of
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland sets your heart pounding. To be "in"
books means selling them at B. Dalton's.
Along similar
lines, New Testament Greek speaks of believing "into" rather than
believing "in." In English we can perhaps convey the distinction best
by using either "in" or no preposition at all.
Believing in God
is an intellectual position. It need have no more effect on your life than
believing in Freud's method of interpreting dreams or the theory that Sir
Francis Bacon wrote Romeo and Juliet.
Believing God is
something else again. It is less a position than a journey, less a realization
than a relationship. It doesn't leave you cold like believing the world is
round. It stirs your blood like believing the world is a miracle. It affects
who you are and what you do with your life like believing your house is on fire
or somebody loves you.
We believe in
God when for one reason or another we choose to do so. We believe God when
somehow we run into God in a way that by and large leaves us no choice to do otherwise.
When Jesus says
that whoever believes "into" him shall never die, he does not mean
that to be willing to sign your name to the Nicene Creed guarantees eternal
life. Eternal life is not the result of believing in. It is the experience of believing.[1]
Sunday, February 16, 2020
Sermon: Catching the Dream
Matthew 5:21-37
Catching the Dream
James Sledge February
16, 2020
As
baseball fans are probably aware, Derek Jeter, longtime short stop for the New
York Yankees, was voted into the Hall of Fame last month. In other recent news,
Major League Baseball announced the results of its investigation into sign stealing
by the Houston Astros, including some of the harshest penalties ever handed
down by MLB. Many thought the penalties too lenient, and the scandal has raised
larger questions about cheating in baseball.
These
two, seemingly unrelated bits of baseball news reminded me of an episode from
Derek Jeter’s playing days. He was batting and squared around to bunt, but the
pitch was way inside. Jeter turned away as the pitch struck the bat right on
the knob at its base. He threw the bat away and began shaking his hand in pain.
The trainer ran out to examine his “injury,” and the umpire awarded him first
base. Jeter trotted down the base path still shaking off the pain.
But
replays showed that the baseball never came anywhere near Jeter’s hand. Jeter himself
later admitted as much. A debate ensued as to whether Jeter had pulled off a
savvy play or if he was a cheater, a debate that landed Jeter’s at-bat on the
evening news.
In
some ways, this debate depends on your view of rules. What are they for? Are
they simply meant to define limits and boundaries, or do they mean to create an
ethos, a way of doing things? Those who saw Jeter as a consummate competitor
understood winning as the ultimate goal which is to be pursued by whatever
means not actually prohibited, while those who thought him a cheater understood
the rules to create something bigger than winning.
All
of us function in a world filled with various sorts of rules. I remember going
into my daughters’ elementary school classrooms and seeing the “Class Rules”
listed on a poster. Every day most of us see speed limit signs that we sometimes
obey and sometimes don’t. And questions about whether speeding is wrong or if
it’s okay as long as you don’t go too much over or get caught perhaps mirror
questions about whether or not Derek Jeter cheated.
And
what about religious rules? The Bible is full of rules. There are well known
rules like the Ten Commandments. (At least their existence is well known; most
people can’t actually name them.) Then there are more obscure rules. Flip
through the pages of Leviticus or Deuteronomy some time. There’s a rule against
eating shellfish. And you’d better not be wearing clothing made of a blended
fabrics. If that label says “cotton/polyester” or “wool/cotton blend,” you’re
breaking the rules.
Of
course most of us don’t get too worried about those rules. We’re Christians,
and so we don’t have to obey all those Old Testament rules. As long as we
believe in Jesus, as long as we have faith, we’re okay.
Yet
in the portion of the Sermon on the Mount we heard last week, Jesus said that he
didn’t come to call off the Law but to fulfill it, that not a single letter of
the Law would pass away. And today, far from calling off rules, we hear Jesus
seeming to add to them. Don’t murder is doable for most of us, but Jesus
stretches the rule to include not getting angry. And in Jesus’ new version of
the rules a middle aged man going through a mid-life crisis needn’t have an
affair. He can just think about it, and it’s pretty much the same thing.
Sunday, February 9, 2020
Sermon: On Being Salt and Light
Matthew 5:13-20
On Being Salt and Light
James Sledge February
9, 2020
“You
are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey. You'll
never know, dear, how much I love you. Please
don't take my sunshine away.” For some reason this song
popped into my head when I was thinking about salt and light in our gospel
reading. I was wondering whether those words have the same impact they did in
Jesus’ time. They’re both rather mundane.
“Turn
on the light,” someone says, and we flip the switch. Light is everywhere. You
can’t see the stars very well at night in the DMV because there is so much
light. As long as the power doesn’t go out, we take it for granted, which may
be why I thought of the song. You are my sunshine sounds pretty impressive. I
get the metaphor of “You are the light of the world,” but it doesn’t sound as
impressive as sunshine
So
too with salt. A lot of us get too much of it. There’s nothing special about
salt. It’s nothing precious. No one would ever think of salt as an extravagant,
Valentine’s gift.
Yet
in ancient times, salt was often literally worth its weight in gold, one of the
most important commodities of the ancient world. It was used not only to season
food but to preserve it so it could be stored. It was used as an antiseptic; it
was required in the offerings made at the Jerusalem Temple. In some areas,
slabs of rock salt were used as coins.
Light
was also precious. In a world of candles and torches, oil lamps were cutting
edge technology. You had to buy oil to use them, and so no one lit a lamp and
put it under a bushel basket.
“You are the salt of the earth… You are
the light of the world.” Not something mundane or taken for
granted, but precious, valuable, essential for life.
Sunday, February 2, 2020
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)