Sermons and thoughts on faith on Scripture from my time at Old Presbyterian Meeting House and Falls Church Presbyterian Church, plus sermons and postings from "Pastor James," my blog while pastor at Boulevard Presbyterian in Columbus, OH.
Today's reading from Colossians speaks of how people who were once estranged from God, who used to live in ways contrary to God's desires, have been reconciled through Jesus, "so as to present you holy and blameless and irreproachable before him - provided that you continue securely established and steadfast in the faith..." These verses seem to speak of a dialectic inherent in the faith. Our status before God is not our doing; it is a gift to us, a matter of God's grace. But living in this new relationship with God requires a response to the gift, a life of faith.
But too often, this dialectic gets distorted into "Believe in Jesus and get the goodies." Faith becomes agreeing with certain religions beliefs and principles and getting rewarded as a result. But the Colossians passage - and many other places in the Bible - describe a new relationship that is simply given, and a new life that emerges from living into this relationship. In the gospels, Jesus welcomes people into his fellowship by calling them to follow him. The invitation is pure grace, but being a disciple means following: doing as he says, living by his teachings and commandments.
In the Church, we've often forgotten this "provided that you continue..." side of faith. In traditional denominations such as my own, you can see this in how we approach membership. Although our theology would beg to differ, we generally consider people members in good standing as long as they show up for worship now and then. We do very little to encourage them to live out that faith, to serve as disciples, to embody Jesus in their life at the church and in the world.
But this is changing. One of the exciting things in the church is the recovery of "Christian practices," habits and behaviors that shape and form us into the disciples Jesus calls us to be. Be they ministries of hospitality or spiritual practices that deepen our awareness of and attentiveness to God, these encourage the response side of the faith dialectic, and help us actually follow Jesus in our daily living.
What practices help you to respond to God's grace in Christ?
I've written previously about a huge study of the faith of young people in America, one that labeled that faith "Moralistic, Therapeutic, Deism." Central to this faith is the notion of believing in God and trying to be good (along with hoping God may help you out of a jam). I doubt the faith of the people in our gospel reading would ever have been described as Moralistic, Therapeutic, Deism, but believing in God and trying hard to be good certainly could describe the Pharisees we meet there.
While the Pharisees are often seen as "bad guys" in the gospels, they were a very dedicated reform movement in Judaism, one that insisted ritual alone was not enough. People needed to work hard to be obedient to God's commands. And yet, John the Baptist tells the Pharisees who come to him that they need to "bear fruit worthy of repentance."
Over the years repentance has taken on a narrow religious meaning of feeling remorse and regret over past actions, with an implication of conversion. But biblically speaking, the term has to do with changing one's mind and going in a new direction. Pharisees tried very hard to be good, to be obedient, so I'm not sure we would expect them to be remorseful about such behavior, but still John expects them to turn, to become something different.
Christian faith in 21st century America is often difficult to distinguish from generic notions of spirituality and good citizenship, from Moralistic, Therapeutic, Deism. But if John the Baptist is any guide, following Jesus apparently calls us to turn and become something much more than that.
Beyond believing in God/Jesus and trying to be good and help others, what fruit is born of your turning toward Jesus?
John 21 comes after the gospel of John seems to have ended. Perhaps this story after the story has ended serves to unsettle things and get the story moving again. Perhaps we need a similar unsettling.
John 21:1-19
The Story Continues
James Sledge -- April 18, 2010
When the movie ends, the scene fades to black, “The End” appears on the screen, and the credits begin to roll.But rare is the movie where we don’t know it’s the end without these cues.
Music works in similar fashion.More often than not, we can detect that the piece has ended even when we’ve never heard it before.Any musical tension and dissonance resolves into something that feels complete, finished, and we know we are at the end.
In movies, in plays, in novels, in music, this pattern is familiar to us.Things need to be brought to a conclusion.The war must be won.The broken relationship must be repaired.The killer must be caught.The jury must come in.The lovers must find one another.The last note must be played.Otherwise we are left with a sense of loose ends.
The gospel of John has dealt with its loose ends.Jesus has been raised from the dead.Mary Magdalene has seen him.Then he has appeared to the disciples, commissioned them and gives them the Spirit.Finally he has appeared again so that Thomas, who was somehow absent when Jesus appeared that first Easter evening, might see and believe.Thomas does believe, but looking forward from that moment, Jesus says, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”
And then the gospel ties up the last loose ends and plays the final note.Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book.But these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.Fade to black.
But just as we prepare to get up from our seats, suddenly the story resumes.After these things Jesus showed himself again to the disciples by the Sea of Tiberias.It’s all rather jarring.Just when we thought we understood exactly how things came out, the story starts up again.It breaks into the feeling of completeness.All that dissonance that had been resolved is stirred up again.
The scene itself is surprising.We’re back at the Sea of Galilee with seven of the disciples.No explanation is given for why they are there.They are just there.It is late in the day, and Peter announces, “I’m going fishing.”
“Sounds like a plan,” the others chime in together.“We’ll all go with you.”
What’s going on here?Has Peter returned to his pre-disciple profession?I don’t know, but he clearly has a boat at his disposal.And they spend the night fishing without catching a single fish.
When the gospel of John seemed to end a few verse earlier, Jesus had already empowered the disciples with the Holy Spirit and sent them as the Father has sent him.But now here they are fishing in the dark.
Now strictly speaking there is nothing all that unusual about fishing at night.But in John’s gospel this seems terribly out of place.Themes of light and darkness are so prominent in this gospel.Jesus is the light that shines in the darkness.But the world prefers the darkness.Nicodemus sneaks out to see Jesus at night.Judas slips off to betray Jesus in the darkness of night.And now, after the resurrection, after the gift of the Holy Spirit, we find the disciples fishing, with no success, in the dark.
It’s a rather depressing scene, from an actual fishing standpoint as well as the metaphorical one.But then the light dawns, both literally and metaphorically.The disciples don’t realize at first, but Jesus is there on the shore.Suddenly there are fish galore and breakfast is ready and waiting.
If the disciples had somehow misunderstood, thought that the end of the story meant things went back to the way they were before, Jesus shatters that notion.The disciples’ last meal with Jesus will not be a prelude to his death, but a prelude to their ministry.
There is a problem with endings.When the movie ends, when all the loose ends are tied up, when any dissonance in the notes resolves and the song concludes, the energy is also gone.Nothing drives events forward any longer.Everything is settled.
Christian faith is bound to an ancient story, and without remembering and embracing that story we cannot be the people of God.But that story is not ended.It has not faded to black.The great preacher Tom Long even suggests that this strange story in John’s gospel that takes place after the story has ended serves to draw the curtain up again, to unsettle things and put the energy back into an unfinished story.
Of course Peter is a special case, and this story after the end of John’s gospel recalls how Peter’s story seemed to have ended.On the night of Jesus’ arrest, a confident, brash Peter had boldly predicted that he would lay down his own life in order to go with Jesus.Instead Peter had denied Jesus three times as he stood warming himself by a charcoal fire that night.
But that is not the end of Peter’s story.Standing by a different charcoal fire, Peter’s threefold denial is undone.Jesus’ love embraces Peter and restores him.But his restoration does not bring Peter’s story to a conclusion.Rather it is a new beginning.“Feed my sheep.Tend my lambs.Follow me.”
This second ending of John’s gospel leaves many questions unanswered and much left to do.What happens to Peter?Presumably he did what Jesus commanded him.He cared for Jesus’ flock, even though it likely cost him his own life at some point.But clearly the story continues, and much of it remains to be written.
Nearly 2000 years later, I wonder if we might not need another, another ending to the story, something like the second ending of John that unsettled things a bit and injected energy and momentum towards a future still to come.I can’t help but think that religion has gotten far too settled, far too fixed.We humans tend to like things settled, but without some tension and the energy it provides, things stagnate.Without some sense that the plot is still unfolding, that we are moving toward something, things become listless and merely habit.
You don’t need to be a social scientist or researcher to know that young people have left the church in droves in the last few decades.Many of them are children of some of you.But researchers can tell us some interesting information about these folks.For the most part, they don’t have any real conflict with the beliefs or doctrines of their parents’ faith, and they didn’t leave to find “better churches.”They believe in God and in being good. They just don’t see any point to the church part.They can believe in God and be good without church.
And I think they got the notion that what goes on at church isn’t very important from us.We got so settled, so accommodated to the world around us.We acted like the story was over and there wasn’t anything significant left to do.We even acted like there wasn’t anything significant going on in our worship.
A member in the pews on Easter Sunday told me this story.It seems that someone was attending worship with family or friends.And as the service ran a bit past an hour – not surprising with the extra music and the large number receiving communion – this person said, loudly enough for those nearby to hear, “You said it only lasted an hour!”
Now I suppose this person can be excused.For all I know, he wasn’t even Christian.But we often act just like him.We check our watches.People complain if the service runs over a few minutes.They grumble if they didn’t like one of the hymns.But if we really expected to meet Jesus here, I doubt we’d care what music we sang or how long we stayed.
But we act like we’re just telling an old story and singing some songs.Perhaps it’s warm and comforting in a way.Perhaps we enjoy it.But it isn’t meant to stir anything up or start anything.The story has been written, and the screen has faded to black.
Like the disciples in our gospel, we have settled back into our everyday routines.Yes, we’ve heard that Jesus was raised.Maybe we even believe it.But that’s an old story, and it doesn’t have much to do with how we live our lives.At least that’s what we’ve communicated to those who grew up in the church.And they’ve taken us at our word, and so many of them have left.And who can blame them.
But the good news is that Jesus does not condemn disciples who settle back into old routines, who live like the resurrection doesn’t much matter, who fish aimlessly in the dark.Jesus does not even condemn Peter for denying him.He only wants to get the story going again.He feeds his disciples, and he calls them, calls us, once more.“Feed my sheep.Tend my lambs.Follow me.”And the story continues.
Today's reading from 1 Peter is not one of my favorites, but it does raise interesting questions about how one handles Scripture. Some well known injunctions are found here such as the command to "accept the authority of every human institution," including pagan emperors and governors; a requirement that slaves "accept the authority of your masters with all deference," whether such masters be good or bad; and the command that wives "accept the authority of your husbands," even if they are not Christians.
I occasionally hear the last injunction quoted by conservative Christians, but some of these folks have no trouble railing against the government. Never mind this Scripture's command to "Honor the emperor." And despite some recent attempts to portray the southern Confederate States as some sort of 19th Century Tea Party effort, almost no one is arguing in favor of slavery. Never mind that following 1 Peter literally would seem to have ruled out any efforts to eradicate slavery.
But Scripture is an equal opportunity trouble maker. Faithful people of all political stripes struggle to employ it in meaningful ways. And people of all stripes sometimes end up trumpeting passages that they like while simply ignoring those that they don't.
Most all of us do some scriptural "cherry picking," but such efforts can only lead to creating a god in our own image. A far more faithful approach might be to wrestle with difficult texts such as this one from 1 Peter. To do so will require some understanding of the passage's context, the situation of the people to whom it was first written. And it will require us to know something about the large message of the Bible so that we can hear these words in the context of many other biblical words. That is to say that wrestling with Scripture, as the term implies, requires some real effort.
Over 70 years ago Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote of The Cost of Discipleship, in contrast to "cheap grace." And what could be cheaper than embracing a few verses of Scripture that support what we already believe and labeling that faith.
In today's reading from Exodus, the Israelites head out from the Red Sea after their miraculous escape through the waters. But soon they are thirsty and, finding no drinkable water, they "complained against Moses." Moses cries out to God who gives them water. But soon they are hungry, and even though God has worked one miracle after another, they complain again. "If only we had died by the hand of the LORD in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the fleshpots and ate our fill of bread; for you have brought us out into this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger."
It's easy to belittle the Israelites' lack of faith. And I think some of us find their behavior even harder to understand because God is so obviously there for them. Look at all God has done for them. How can they fail to trust in God's provision?
I sometimes find myself wishing that God was more obviously present, like happened in biblical times. But I wonder if the biblical folks experienced it that way. Were they so different from me? Or were they perhaps exactly like me; confident when they sensed that God was there, but quickly imagining God was no longer with them the moment difficulty arose.
I've had my moments when God's presence was real, powerful, and life altering. I felt God calling me to leave a career and attend seminary. I've felt God calling me to refocus my work as a pastor. But then there are those times when I can't seem to find God. And I often find myself doubting those previous experiences of God. Were those signs really God, or was it all just coincidence? And I start to complain. I don't necessarily complain to God, but then neither do the Israelites. They complain to Moses and Aaron. Perhaps God didn't seem real enough at that moment even to merit a complaint. I know how they felt.
I know a lot of people who think that faith is believing what it says in the Bible, believing that God created the world, that Jesus died and rose. But I think that believing such things is child's play compared to the real work of faith. Faith is about trusting that God is at work in my life, that God is somehow moving events toward God's future and calling me to be a part of it, even when I can't seem to find God around me anywhere. In fact, I'm not sure there is faith, at least not in the sense the Apostle Paul speaks of it, without occasionally experiencing what feels like the absence of God.
Make a joyful noise to the LORD, all the earth; break forth into joyous song and sing praises. Sing praises to the LORD with the lyre, with the lyre and the sound of melody. With trumpets and the sound of the horn make a joyful noise before the King, the LORD.
So goes a portion of Psalm 98. Sometimes I use similar words to open worship. But it is very easy for worship to be something other than an offering to God. For me worship is filled with logistics, worries about all the pieces coming together, not to mention delivering a sermon. For choir members it may be about doing the music they've rehearsed. People in the seats or pews may be able to worry less about such things and take it all in. But it is easy for them to become spectators and worship become something that was either good or bad depending on how they liked it.
How do we make worship something we give to God? I think this is a critical issue for many mainline congregations such as the one I serve. And I think answering this question starts with an enhanced sense that God is in our sanctuaries and worship spaces. We say that when the faithful gather together, Jesus is present with us. But it is easy to act otherwise, to act as if we are simply gathering to do a little singing and to hear someone talk about God.
How present is God in your worship? And how can we do a better job of helping others to encounter that presence.
Today's gospel reading takes place shortly before Jesus' arrest, and it states with clarity that to see Jesus is to see the Father. This is a fundamental claim of John's gospel. It is there in the opening verses about the Word made flesh. "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God."
In the very early years of the Church, Christians argued over the nature of Jesus and his divinity. But those issues were settled long ago. Most Christians don't give Jesus' divinity a second thought. We assume it. At least we do until it comes to our actions.
With scarcely a thought we say, "Jesus is God in the flesh." But when it comes to doing what Jesus says, that is another matter. In today's reading Jesus says, "If you love me, you will keep my commandments." But the notion of "turning the other cheek" is not all that appealing to me. And I have enough trouble loving my family. I'm not sure I can love all believers, precisely what Jesus commands we he says, "Love one another." And loving my enemies just seems like a bad idea.
Sometimes we Protestants have so focused on faith that we act like it doesn't matter what we do, only what we believe. But the Bible clearly says that faith without works is dead. And Jesus says that if we love him, we will obey him. Obedience doesn't always sit well with our cultural notions of self-fulfillment and happiness. We are loathe to give anyone that sort of control over our lives. We want freedom. Freedom from God?
There is no audio today, but the video will be posted tomorrow. Sermon text is below.
Acts 5:27-32; John 20:19-23
Impressive Congregations
James SledgeApril 11, 2010
Most of you know that I am not originally from central Ohio, that I moved here from my home state of North Carolina.Once I arrived, it wasn’t long before I learned of Columbus’ long running inferiority complex.After years of living in the shadows of Cleveland and Cincinnati, Columbus has a tendency to think of itself as second string, not quite as impressive as these other cities.And this self image has persisted even though both Cincinnati and Cleveland have struggled in recent years, losing population while this area grows and thrives in comparison.
Congregations often suffer from a similar inferiority problem.I have heard church experts say that most churches underestimate their size and capabilities.My own experience certainly bears this out.I’ve heard numerous folks in this congregation and in my previous one speak of being a small congregation.But in fact, we are bigger than roughly three quarters of all Presbyterian congregations.
Not too long ago we began an Appreciative Inquiry process here leading to the formation of our Dream Team. They are seeking to hear where God is calling us as a congregation.And in the early part of this process, as we catalogued the many activities and programs already going on at Boulevard, I heard a number of people express their surprise at how busy a place this actually is.That didn’t quite fit with the small image some of us have.
As I said, this seems to be normal.I’m not sure why.Perhaps because there is always some congregation that is bigger and more impressive, we tend to underestimate ourselves.Regardless, our tendency to minimize our own gifts and abilities does limit us, does sometimes keep us from doing all that we might do.But I actually think this is a rather minor problem.
I say that because there is a bigger problem afflicting many congregations, no matter how accurately they view their gifts, talents, and resources.The problem is that they view their congregation as nothing more than the sum of the members’ gifts, talents, and resources.What they, what we can do or can’t do is purely a function of these members.If we are an impressive bunch of folks with an impressive array of abilities, then we will be an impressive congregation.If not, well…
Of course we can always work to improve our credentials.Our elders and deacons can attend leadership seminars.Our teachers can attend teacher training.There are companies that will sell us stewardship programs guaranteed to increase pledges.Pastors can attend preaching, worship, and other workshops.There are endless things we can do to make ourselves better and more impressive.But none of these will solve the problem of thinking that a congregation rises and falls simply on the strengths and weaknesses of its members.
Our two scripture readings for this morning may be helpful in understanding what I’m talking about.Granted these stories come from a time before denominations and church buildings, but they are still about congregations, about groups of believers who have banded together.
One of these congregations is depicted in John’s gospel.It has gathered for a Sunday evening prayer service on the very day of Jesus’ resurrection. It is the end of what must have been an incredible day.Jesus had been executed on Friday and his body placed in the tomb late that day.In Jewish thought the new day began at sundown, and so the Sabbath had begun almost as soon as Jesus was in the tomb.That meant that nothing more could be done until Sunday.Sunday began following sundown on the Sabbath, but in a world without electricity or streetlights, no one headed for the tomb until early in the morning.
Mary Magdalene was so eager that she had actually gone before first light, only to find the tomb open and Jesus’ body gone.She ran back and got two of the disciples who went to the tomb and found it just as Mary said, but then they had returned.But Mary had remained, and she had met the risen Jesus.Afterwards she had rushed back to tell the others.“I have seen the Lord,” she said to them, and she told them what Jesus had said about ascending to the Father.
Word had quickly spread among the eleven and then to the larger community of disciples.What did this all mean?All their hopes had been dashed on Friday, but now some of them felt a faint glimmer.And so they gathered for that prayer meeting as darkness descended.They carefully checked the door as people arrived, verified who they were and let them in.And they kept the door securely locked.The authorities had killed Jesus; they would not hesitate to kill the disciples if they got wind that they were trying to keep things going.They were terrified, and who could blame them.
There is a slightly different congregation found in our reading from the book of Acts, although we see only a few of the congregation’s leaders.They’ve been arrested by the same authorities who so frightened those attending that Sunday night prayer meeting the day of Jesus’ resurrection.Actually, this is the second time they’ve been arrested for saying Jesus is the Messiah and that he has been raised from the dead.They had been strictly ordered not to do this, but they have persisted despite the threat of arrest and even death.And they will not back down even when they stand before those authorities.
Of course many of you know that these aren’t really two different congregations.True, the congregation has added a few members between the story in John and the one in Acts, but it is the very same folks who hid behind locked doors who now boldly defy the authorities.
But even though it is the same people, they sure seem like different congregations.One is frightened and worried about self-preservation.The other is bold and fearless, totally unconcerned about its own safety, focused on reaching out to others.They are the same people, with the same gifts and talents, but nothing looks the same.
Now if congregations are simply the sum of their members’ gifts, talents, and resources, these folks must have been quite busy attending seminars and workshops.They must have gone to evangelism classes and leadership workshops and motivational events.They must have countless hours in meetings to come up with a better mission statement and better programming for their church.Still, it is hard to comprehend how the same folks locked behind closed doors are now standing boldly and fearlessly before the very people who terrified them only a few weeks before.
When I went to seminary and took “Preaching and Worship” my first year, the very first sermon I wrote was from today’s gospel reading.In it I wondered aloud how on earth Jesus could possible hand over the reins of his Church to this frightened bunch hiding behind locked doors.Could there be a much less impressive group of folks?What was he thinking turning loose this bunch?
In that first sermon, I also wondered about the congregations I had grown up in.Some were better than others, but we could be pretty timid and unimpressive ourselves.If Jesus had ever showed up at one of those congregations and commissioned us like he did to those disciples hiding behind locked doors, I’d have wondered what in the world he was thinking then, too.
But when Jesus looks at those folks quivering in fear, when he looks at us, he sees something different than I do.He sees bold, fearless believers who defy the authorities despite arrest, imprisonment, and the threat of death.Jesus looks at people who seem totally incapable of something so important as continuing his ministry on earth and sees an incredible future.He knows that they are not limited by their frailties and uncertainties and fears, because he does not send them out on their own.
Jesus says, “Receive the Holy Spirit… Receive the Holy Spirit… Receive the Holy Spirit… “ (each time facing a different area of the congregation).“As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”
In today's reading from Exodus, Moses commands the people of Israel to remember. "Remember this day on which you came out of Egypt, out of the house of slavery." Israel can not be who she is called to be without remembering. Her own identity is caught up in this remembering. When Israel forgets that her very existence is a gift from God, that is the beginning of an identity shift. Israel will begin to become something other than God called her to be.
Identity and remembering are closely related. When married couples forget how their spouse used to make them feel, when they forget the sacrifices the other has made, and when they forget the promises made to each other, they can begin to lose their identity, to live as though they were not husband and wife.
In today's gospel, Jesus commissions the disciples and the Church saying, "Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you." But this task requires a great deal of remembering. "Teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you" requires us to remember. And here, remembering includes doing.
I think a good argument can be made that some of the Church's difficulties in our day are the result of a loss of identity, an identity crisis brought on by failing to remember. Very often we in congregations "believe" in Jesus but obey very little that he commands us. We have forgotten all that nonsense about taking up the cross, about giving ourselves totally to God, about our neighbors' needs - even neighbors who are from other cultures and countries - being every bit as important as our own. We've forgotten more than we remember, and so our identity has become so compromised that we are virtually indistinguishable from the culture.
One of the great medical tragedies of our time is Alzheimer's disease. A big part of its horror is the slow forgetting that accompanies it, the slow loss of a loved one who gradually forgets who he or she is. Sometimes we in the Church look a bit like someone in the early stages of Alzheimer's. We continue with some of the same routines, but increasingly their meaning is lost as we forget who we are.
But in the Church's case, this is not irreversible. Our identity can be recovered if we are willing to do the work of reclaiming it, of remembering who it is Jesus calls us to be.
Today's reading from Colossians speaks of how people who were once estranged from God, who used to live in ways contrary to God's desires, have been reconciled through Jesus, "so as to present you holy and blameless and irreproachable before him - provided that you continue securely established and steadfast in the faith..." These verses seem to speak of a dialectic inherent in the faith. Our status before God is not our doing; it is a gift to us, a matter of God's grace. But living in this new relationship with God requires a response to the gift, a life of faith.
