Unfortunately, the camera does not capture the work of the young women playing Jesus and the Samaritan woman.
Audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.
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.
Tuesday, March 28, 2017
Monday, March 27, 2017
God the Cheerleader
I saw a Facebook post the other day suggesting that many Christians suffer from “functional atheism.” By this the writer meant that our professed beliefs don’t translate into any concrete trust that God’s power is somehow with those who follow Jesus. Rather we imagine that nothing can happen unless we do it. I think this problem is pronounced among pastors. I know it afflicts me.
One reason that some pastors don't pray as often as you might expect; prayer isn’t seen as productive. It doesn’t actually accomplish anything visible. I suspect that many congregations would be uncomfortable with a pastor who announced, “I will be secluded in prayer for a few hours every afternoon.” But pastors’ own notions of what is productive may have more to do with infrequent prayer. When there is a lot to get done, it can feel like wasting time.
It feels like wasted time because we’re shaped by a culture that values production, efficiency, and busyness. But on a deeper faith level, this feeling emerges from a suspicion that God can’t really be counted on. Yes, the Bible has stories about the Holy Spirit empowering followers to do amazing things on Christ’s behalf, but how likely is that?
It is not as popular as it once was, but I’ve often heard the stories of Jesus feeding the multitudes explained as miracles of sharing. John’s gospel speaks of “signs” rather than miracles, and he tells of Jesus feeding 5000 in a manner that does not lend it self to sharing interpretations. Not only are there twelve baskets of leftovers, but the crowd witnessing it is ready to crown Jesus king because of this momentous event.
It’s a little hard to imagine that the crowd acts as they do because Jesus convinced them to share the lunches they had hidden under the cloaks, argued persuasively that there was enough for all if everyone pitched in. This, however, has not stopped preachers and scholars from suggesting that this is exactly what happened. There was always enough food, but people worried they’d be mobbed by the unprepared folks in the crowd if they revealed the lunch tucked in their pockets.
I suppose it would be no small feat convincing folks to share when they’re worried that revealing their meager provisions could turn the crowd into a hungry mob. Still, if that’s the best Jesus can do, if that’s all God has – a convincing argument – well no wonder people don’t expect God to do much of anything.
For those of us who feel called to be the Church, to be the body of Christ in the world, surely we must expect more from God than a little cheerleading from the sidelines. I’ve never been clear on just how the mix of human agency and divine power works, but very often I’ve acted as though it all falls to the human side. If the pastor isn’t good enough, if the youth leader isn’t good enough, if the lay leaders are committed enough, and on and on, then nothing much is going to happen.
The humans look like the only gods in this sort of story. Perhaps we will scrounge up enough to give everyone a taste, but it’s hard to imagine everyone full and twelve overflowing baskets remaining.
Click to learn more about the lectionary.
One reason that some pastors don't pray as often as you might expect; prayer isn’t seen as productive. It doesn’t actually accomplish anything visible. I suspect that many congregations would be uncomfortable with a pastor who announced, “I will be secluded in prayer for a few hours every afternoon.” But pastors’ own notions of what is productive may have more to do with infrequent prayer. When there is a lot to get done, it can feel like wasting time.
It feels like wasted time because we’re shaped by a culture that values production, efficiency, and busyness. But on a deeper faith level, this feeling emerges from a suspicion that God can’t really be counted on. Yes, the Bible has stories about the Holy Spirit empowering followers to do amazing things on Christ’s behalf, but how likely is that?
It is not as popular as it once was, but I’ve often heard the stories of Jesus feeding the multitudes explained as miracles of sharing. John’s gospel speaks of “signs” rather than miracles, and he tells of Jesus feeding 5000 in a manner that does not lend it self to sharing interpretations. Not only are there twelve baskets of leftovers, but the crowd witnessing it is ready to crown Jesus king because of this momentous event.
It’s a little hard to imagine that the crowd acts as they do because Jesus convinced them to share the lunches they had hidden under the cloaks, argued persuasively that there was enough for all if everyone pitched in. This, however, has not stopped preachers and scholars from suggesting that this is exactly what happened. There was always enough food, but people worried they’d be mobbed by the unprepared folks in the crowd if they revealed the lunch tucked in their pockets.
I suppose it would be no small feat convincing folks to share when they’re worried that revealing their meager provisions could turn the crowd into a hungry mob. Still, if that’s the best Jesus can do, if that’s all God has – a convincing argument – well no wonder people don’t expect God to do much of anything.
For those of us who feel called to be the Church, to be the body of Christ in the world, surely we must expect more from God than a little cheerleading from the sidelines. I’ve never been clear on just how the mix of human agency and divine power works, but very often I’ve acted as though it all falls to the human side. If the pastor isn’t good enough, if the youth leader isn’t good enough, if the lay leaders are committed enough, and on and on, then nothing much is going to happen.
The humans look like the only gods in this sort of story. Perhaps we will scrounge up enough to give everyone a taste, but it’s hard to imagine everyone full and twelve overflowing baskets remaining.
Click to learn more about the lectionary.
Sunday, March 26, 2017
Sermon: Hearing and Seeing
John 9:1-41
Hearing and Seeing
James Sledge March
26, 2017
John’s gospel is often misunderstood and misused by
modern Christians who do not realize that John writes to Jewish Christians. His
congregation is in conflict with synagogue leaders who threaten to throw them
out over their non-orthodox beliefs. When John speaks disparagingly of “the
Jews,” he does not use the term literally (true of many terms in John). It refers
only to those powers-that-be who are threatening his community.
As he walked along, (Jesus) saw a man
blind from birth. 2His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this
man or his parents, that he was born blind?” 3Jesus answered,
“Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s works
might be revealed in him. 4We must work the works of him who sent me
while it is day; night is coming when no one can work. 5As long as I
am in the world, I am the light of the world.” 6When he had said
this, he spat on the ground and made mud with the saliva and spread the mud on
the man’s eyes, 7saying to him, “Go, wash in the pool of Siloam”
(which means Sent). Then he went and washed and came back able to see. 8The
neighbors and those who had seen him before as a beggar began to ask, “Is this
not the man who used to sit and beg?” 9Some were saying, “It is he.”
Others were saying, “No, but it is someone like him.” He kept saying, “I am the
man.” 10But they kept asking him, “Then how were your eyes opened?” 11He
answered, “The man called Jesus made mud, spread it on my eyes, and said to me,
‘Go to Siloam and wash.’ Then I went and washed and received my sight.” 12They
said to him, “Where is he?” He said, “I do not know.”
“Why
is this man blind?” ask the disciples. “What caused this?” Of course they
already have assumptions about the causes. When they look at that blind man,
they see him in a certain light.
“Whose
fault is it that this man is blind?” It must be someone’s fault. There’s some
reason that the only way he can survive is to stand on a street corner begging,
like those people with their signs that I pass all the time in my car. Who’s
fault is it?
The
disciples look at the world and see it a certain way, and so they see a man who
deserves his fate in some way, at least indirectly. If he hadn’t caused the
problem himself, he was the product of bad family background.
Jesus
seems not to see the world the same way the disciples do, that I do. He shows
little interest in determining fault, but he does see an opportunity to show
God’s love moving in the world, to be light in the darkness while there is the
chance.
It’s
an odd interaction. There’s spit and mud and a command. “Go to Siloam and
wash.” The blind man hasn’t even asked Jesus for any help, but when Jesus
speaks to him, he does just as Jesus says. And then he can see. Regardless of
why he was born blind, regardless of why he’s there at Seven Corners with his
sign every day, this is a wonderful moment. He won’t have to beg any more.
Everyone that knows him will be celebrating.
But
many of his neighbors don’t seem to recognize him anymore. He looks vaguely
familiar, but he’s not a blind beggar. It must be someone else.
Way
back when I was in elementary school, a girl with some significant learning and
emotional challenges sat next to me. This was the 1960s, before there was much
sensitivity to such things. She had few friends and struggled to keep up in
class. It seemed likely she would have to repeat the grade.
One
day we had our weekly spelling test, and Cathy was excited because she had
spelled all ten words correctly. I knew better. I had seen her glancing at my
paper, and I told the teacher. The classmate behind me agreed, and the teacher
had her take the test again. She got them all correct again.
Sunday, March 19, 2017
Sermon: Drawn to the Water
John 4:5-42
Drawn to the Water
James Sledge March
19, 2017
In
this sermon, people playing the parts of Jesus and the Samaritan woman come to
the well. They speak the words spoken by these two while the pastor narrates
and offers some observations at several pauses in the action. As such the
scripture reading is woven into the sermon itself. The congregation joins in
reading the last verse of the scripture which also concludes the sermon.
So Jesus came to a Samaritan city called Sychar, near the plot of
ground that Jacob had given to his son Joseph.6Jacob’s well was
there, and Jesus, tired out by his journey, was sitting by the well. It was
about noon. (Jesus walks out and sits down.)
7A Samaritan woman came to draw water (Woman comes to the well.), and Jesus said to her, “Give me a drink.”
(8His disciples had gone to the city to buy food.) 9The
Samaritan woman said to him, “How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a
woman of Samaria?” (Jews do not share things in common with Samaritans.)
A Samaritan
woman. I’m not sure it is possible for us to
appreciate the force of these words. We have no experience with the enmity
between Jews and Samaritans or the status of women in Jesus’ day. But there are
those we’d rather not talk to if we met in a strange or unfamiliar place.
Perhaps our Samaritan woman, the one we don’t share things in common with, is a
black male, a Syrian refugee, an illegal alien, an unhinged conservative, a
raving liberal, a transgender woman.
That
doesn’t apply to Nicodemus, the last person Jesus met. He’s a respected,
educated, religious leader, a white Presbyterian of his day. He came to Jesus
in the dark of night, impressed and curious, but also wary. This unnamed woman,
an outsider many of us would rather not speak to, is approached by Jesus, a man
she has never heard of, because he is thirsty in the noonday heat and needs her
help.
10Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God, and who
it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and
he would have given you living water.” 11The woman said to him, “Sir,
you have no bucket, and the well is deep. Where do you get that living water? 12Are
you greater than our ancestor Jacob, who gave us the well, and with his sons
and his flocks drank from it?” 13Jesus said to her, “Everyone who
drinks of this water will be thirsty again, 14but those who drink of
the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will
give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.” 15The
woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty or
have to keep coming here to draw water.”
Living water. For Nicodemus the term was born again. In the gospel’s original language, both terms have double meanings.
The literal meanings speak of being born a second time or of fresh, flowing
water in contrast to that from a cistern. Figuratively they speak of being born
from above or of life-giving waters. Both Nicodemus and this woman hear Jesus
literally and so misunderstand him. For Nicodemus, this becomes a total
roadblock.
But
while this unnamed, female, outsider misunderstands as well, she remains open.
Something about her, her lack of religious certainty perhaps, her need for
water perhaps. “Sir, give me this water. I’m tired of being thirsty and I’m
tired of having to come back here over and over. I’m tired of the all the
drudgery and barely keeping my head above water. I’m tired of whatever I do not
being enough. Sir, whatever it is you have, please give it to me.”
Thursday, March 16, 2017
Monday, March 6, 2017
Sermon Video: Listening for Who We Are
Be warned. I have an extended coughing fit in this sermon.
Audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.
Audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.
Sunday, March 5, 2017
Sermon: Faith Prenups
Matthew 19:16-26
Faith Prenups
James Sledge March
5, 2017
I’ve
told this story before, but it’s a favorite of mine and, I hope, worth telling
again. It took place a long time ago in Birmingham, Alabama, where James Bryan
served as pastor at Third Presbyterian from 1889 until 1939. Over that time he
became an influential and beloved figure in the city. Everyone knew Brother
Bryan.
He
was noted as an evangelist, for work on racial reconciliation, and especially
for his work with the poor and homeless. There’s still a Brother Bryan Mission
in Birmingham, along with a Brother Bryan Park and a statue of him that’s a
well-known city landmark.
Bryan
thought of himself as pastor to everyone he met. One day he met a well to do
businessman, and in their conversations asked the man whether he was a tither.
The man was not familiar with this practice of giving the first 10 percent of one’s
income to God, so Brother Bryan launched into a stirring biblical argument for
tithing.
The
businessman responded, “Oh you don’t understand. I make a lot of money. Ten
percent would be a whole lot more than I could afford to give to a church.”
Brother
Bryan replied, “Well sir, I think we ought to pray about this.” He got down on
his knees and cried out to heaven, “Cut him down Lord, cut him down! Lord, please
reduce this man’s income so he can afford to tithe!”
I don’t know if this story really happened,
but I’m pretty sure it’s true. Many make a lot or have a lot that gets in the
way of being a disciple, just like the rich man who visits Jesus.
This
rich young man seems like a pretty good guy, the sort any church would want as
a member. He’s serious about the biblical commands, so unlike that businessman,
he did tithe. But like the businessman, there were things he could not let go
of. He wanted to follow Jesus, but he went away grieving. The thought of what
he would lose was just too much.
This
story has unnerved Jesus’ followers from the moment it happened. It might have
been an isolated story about one rich man except Jesus adds a blanket
statement. “Truly I tell you, it will be hard for a rich person to enter the
kingdom of heaven… it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle.”
This stuns the disciples. Like many of us, they think of wealth as a
blessing. But Jesus speaks of it as a curse.
A lot of time in a lot of sermons has
been spent trying to un-curse wealth, but the meager level of giving in many
churches suggests that clinging to our wealth is still a major hurdle for those
who would follow Jesus. But while a discipline of giving is critical for
anything resembling spiritual maturity, I’m not sure that’s what today’s
scripture is about.
Tuesday, February 28, 2017
Monday, February 27, 2017
Giving Love for Lent
It’s sometimes
referred to as the Shema, from the Hebrew word that begins the command. “Hear,
O Israel: The LORD is our God, the LORD alone. You shall love the LORD your God
with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might.” This
verse from Deuteronomy is the one Jesus quotes when asked for the “greatest
commandment." He then pairs it with another from Leviticus. “You shall love your
neighbor as yourself.”
I wonder if either
command is really possible, but I’m especially doubtful about loving God with
all one’s heart, soul, and might. Do we ever really give our all to another? Think about the loving
relationships that you have been a part of. Was there not always some small
part of yourself that you held back? Can a psychologically healthy self be
maintained without some holding back of that self?
Perhaps I’m
nitpicking. No doubt God makes allowances for such limitations, but even then I
wonder about this command to love God with our all. I certainly don’t do it,
and in twenty plus years as a pastor, I’ve not run across anyone I thought was
close to pulling it off. Even taking into account the hyperbole typical of
biblical/Middle Eastern speech, what does it mean to fail so regularly to
keep what Jesus says is the most important commandment?
Of course we
Protestants have a long history of neglecting the commandment/obedience side of
faith. However it isn’t our theology that has led us astray so much as popular
thinking and practice. Our theology correctly points to the love and grace of
God that is offered to us simply because that’s how God is. We can’t get God to
love us by being obedient. But too often this truth has been perverted to say
that we don’t need to be obedient. Pop theology and practice speaks of faith in
Jesus being all that’s needed. In such thinking, faith replaces obedience, but
that is not so.
Consider those
loving relationships you have had with other people. Think especially about the
love a parent has for a child. When a child comes into the world she doesn’t
usually have any accomplishments to merit love from her parent, but most parents
are wired to love their children anyway. Such love simply is. But if a child
never learns to respond to that love, never learns to love back, it will be a messy relationship. Her parent may never
stop loving her, but just knowing and trusting that she is loved is not
sufficient for a relationship.
Marriages and
other loving partnerships are similar. One person in a partnership may love the
other deeply and give of herself as fully as is humanly possible. But if the
other does not respond, never choosing to love back, the relationship is
doomed. Even if the one doing all the loving never stops, the relationship
cannot work.
The biblical commands are how we love God back. Unfortunately, religious folks have tended to
think in terms of requirements and formulas. Such thinking often views commandments/obedience
as the old formula now replaced by a new formula of belief/faith. But Jesus
rejects such thinking. He even insist on those old commandments to love God with
our all and to love neighbor as ourselves, saying that they embody all the “law
and the prophets.”
That brings me
right back to where I started, those impossible commands to love. I’ve chased
myself around in a circle, but perhaps I gained one small insight along the
way. Thinking about those human relationships I mentioned above, I would say that on the
whole my wife is probably better at loving me than I am at loving her. That
imbalance can create problems, but I do try to love her, and I do try to
get better at it from time to time. I may not be very good at it, but I do love her back. I do respond to her love,
and somehow it is enough to keep the relationship going, even when it is far
short of my all.
I have
confidence that God is even more tolerant than my wife, which is a good thing
because I’m even worse at loving God than I am at loving my wife. But I am
trying to work on it. I am trying to get better. Maybe what I need to “give
up” for Lent is a little bit more of myself to God.
Sunday, February 26, 2017
Sermon: Listening for Who We Are
Matthew 17:1-9
Listening for Who We Are
James Sledge February
26, 2017 – Transfiguration Sunday
When
you watch a movie or read a novel, do you ever relate to one of the characters?
How about a story or fable with a clear moral or lesson like some of Jesus’
parables?
Consider
the parable of the lost sheep where the shepherd leaves the 99 in search of the
one. It is endearing partly because we realize that we may get lost now and
then. But if we don’t identify with the lost sheep, if we think of ourselves as
good little sheep who would never stray, the parable may be less appealing.
The
parable of the prodigal is similar. It’s beloved because many like the notion
that God welcomes us back and celebrates our return no matter how badly we’ve
strayed. But if we only identify with the elder brother, the good,
well-behaved, dutiful son whom Dad never celebrated or rewarded, we may not
like the parable so much.
Today’s
scripture is not a parable so this whole discussion may seem pointless. But
Matthew expects us, as the Church, to identify with some of the characters in
the story.
We
modern folks struggle to use the gospels as originally intended. For ancient
people, history and myth were not necessarily at odds, and truth was not
primarily about facts. Our modern notions of truth lead us to read the gospels
as accounts of what happened. Even those who don’t take these accounts
literally still tend to hear them as reports of events.
An
online joke shows a Sunday School picture of Jesus teaching the disciples. He
says, “Okay everyone, now listen carefully. I don’t want to end up with four
different versions of this.” It is funny, but it also misunderstands why we
ended up with four gospels.
Sunday, February 19, 2017
Sermon: Fulfilling Our Purpose
Matthew 5:33-48
Fulfilling Our Purpose
James Sledge February
19, 2017
What
are some of the groups or organizations you belong to? I’ve never been a big
“joiner,” but over the years I’ve been a member in good standing with a number
of groups. I once was a member of the AWSA or American Water Ski Association.
I’m a member of alumni associations at two universities and one seminary, and the
AARP has sent me multiple invitations to become a member, but I always throw
them away.
What
does it mean to be a member of a group or organization? Why join the AARP or
Water Ski Association or Chamber of Commerce or a club at school? Why are you a
member of the groups you belong to?
Reasons
for joining groups and organizations vary. I had to join the AWSA in order to
enter waterski tournaments. I didn’t really ask to join the alumni
associations, and the AARP promises me discounts on products and services along
with various other benefits.
I’m
not a member of the Smithsonian, though I could become one for $26.00. But I
did recently have the chance to visit the Smithsonian’s National Museum of
African American History and Culture. You can’t really see it all in a day, but
it is a remarkable experience.
The
history portion is designed so that you start at the very bottom floor, well
below ground, moving through dark exhibits about slave ships and the early
slave trade. As you continue you, you move up through the Civil War,
Reconstruction, the rise of Jim Crow and segregation, the Civil Rights
movement, ending at the inauguration of our first African American president.
As
I worked my way through sections focused on the Civil Rights movement with
exhibits on the Montgomery Bus Boycott, Freedom Riders, and the March on
Washington, the term “member” was largely absent. There were certainly
organizations that one could join that supported the movement, the Southern
Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC) or the Congress for Racial Equality
(CORE), but the big moments of the Civil Rights Movement weren’t about
membership. They were about active participation.
I’m
not sure how it was that the Church came to use the term “member” to speak of
the participants in a local community of faith. After all, we already had a
perfectly good word: “disciple.” It’s the word used for the first followers of
Jesus and the word Jesus uses when he commands those disciples to begin
building the Church. “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.”
The
Church’s job, according to Jesus, is to make disciples, something that happens
by baptism and by obedience, by learning to obey the commands Jesus gives us.
And the Sermon on the Mount is Jesus’ first big discipleship lesson.
Wednesday, February 15, 2017
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