Sermon: Faith and Daring Speech

Mark 4:35-41

Faith and Daring Speech

James Sledge                                                                                       June 24, 2008

I imagine that many of you have heard some version of this story before. Matthew, Mark, and Luke all tell of Jesus stilling the storm. I’m partial to Mark’s version. Somewhat atypically for the shortest gospel, Mark has the longest and fullest depiction.

Jesus directs the disciples to cross the Sea of Galilee at night, not necessarily a great idea. But the disciples do as Jesus says, apparently without question or objection. But out on the water, in the dark, a terrific storm arises. It whips up waves that begin to break over the sides of the boat. The disciples are no doubt bailing water out as fast as they can, but it is a losing battle. The boat is being swamped.

Meanwhile, Jesus is asleep. He has been teaching and healing at a breakneck pace, and the crowds won’t leave him alone. Perhaps he is so exhausted that he could sleep through anything. But as the situation grows more and more dire, the disciples wake him up.

I don’t know if they expect Jesus to do anything or not. Maybe they just feel like he should be worried and frightened, too. They are all about to drown, after all. But Jesus rebukes the wind and tells the sea to quiet down, and all is calm.

Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble, and he brought them out from their distress; he made the storm be still, and the waves of the sea were hushed. That’s from Psalm 107, and it’s speaking about God.

“Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?” the disciples ask, as they quake in awe and fear. 

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The story of Jesus stilling the storm shows up every three years in the lectionary, paired with the story of David and Goliath. Typically I’ve seen it focusing on two things. One is Jesus’ identity, and the other is faith. Here faith is about more than believing in God or Jesus. It is about trusting in the power of God to save, the sort of trust that allows the boy David to face the mighty warrior Goliath with only his sling.

But for some reason that didn’t quite work for me this time, at least not the faith part. Jesus accuses the disciples of having no faith. But they have turned to Jesus in their distress. They cried out to the Lord in their trouble, and he brought them out…” to quote the psalm. Does being afraid mean having no faith? That’s troubling. I’ve got fears a plenty.

If the disciples had come to Jesus cool as cucumbers and said, “Hey Jesus, would you mind fixing this?” would Jesus had done the same miracle but not chastised them about their faith? Or is the faith problem about something else.

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Statement from the Session of Falls Church Presbyterian

In light of US immigration officials separating children from parents, and the US Attorney General's appeal to Scripture to support this, this congregation's Session (discernment/governing council) publicly declares the following:

The Falls Church Presbyterian Church (FCPC) rejects the claim that the Christian faith or the Bible excuses or condones government policies that forcibly separate children and their parents, or otherwise dehumanize refugees and immigrants. We reject any practice, policy, or law that denies God's beloved children their dignity. We oppose all attempts by the powerful to justify oppression or mistreatment of the powerless. We follow Jesus, who teaches that faithfulness is better measured by the loving care we provide to strangers, foreigners, and prisoners than by public proclamations of piety--and so we at FCPC rededicate ourselves to ways we can provide direct support and care to those in need.

Sermon video: Crazy Like Jesus

Audios of sermon and worship available on the FCPC website.

Sermon video: Jesus and New Coke

Audios and sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

Sermon: Crazy Like Jesus

Mark 3:19b-35

Crazy Like Jesus

James Sledge                                                                                       June 10, 2018

I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that most of you don’t spend a lot of time worrying about Satan or the power of demons. In fact, many progressive Christians, including pastors such as myself, are a little unnerved, even embarrassed, by biblical talk of Satan and demonic possession. Clearly this comes from ancient peoples who weren’t sophisticated enough to understand things like mental illness or epilepsy.

But sometimes I wonder if our “sophistication” isn’t actually an arrogance that does not serve us well. We sometimes imagine that there’s no evil, only problems to be solved. At some point progress and advancement will inexorably lead to a better and better world.

At the dawn of the 20^th century, many believed progress would soon do away with war in a unified Christian earth, only to witness one world war followed shortly by another. Imagine the despair of those who thought humanity was about to achieve world peace but instead saw millions and millions slaughtered in battle, killed by bombs raining down on civilian populations, and exterminated in the Holocaust.

Mainline and progressive Christians often fall captive to despair these days. I know I do. Granted we do not face world war or Holocaust, but things we hoped for and counted on have failed us. Our heralded democracy seems to have welcomed racism, xenophobia, hatred, and outright lying as accepted parts of the process. Christianity itself is too often a tool of hatred, bigotry, and the acquisition of power at any cost.

I wonder if we sophisticated moderns don’t need to take the problem of evil more seriously, even if we do not personify it. How else to explain school children slaughtering classmates with easily obtained weapons of war? Or followers of Jesus cheering war, spewing hate for those different from them, embracing lies, immorality, and disdain for the least of these, in the pursuit of power?

How else to explain many of us swallowing consumerism’s big lie that if we only acquire enough, if we only get more, we’ll be truly happy? How else to explain turning childhood into a high-stress, cut-throat competition where children must outduel others to get ahead, and we are willing to sacrifice children with fewer advantages for the sake of our own?

Sermon video: Any Life Here?

Audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

Sermon: Jesus and New Coke

John 3:1-17

Jesus and New Coke

James Sledge                                                               May 27, 2018  - Trinity Sunday

When you make a decision, what sort of process to you follow? The decision could be about what kind of car to buy, what movie to watch, where to go to school, whether to make a career change, or how to vote. Obviously some decisions require more careful deliberation, and others we can make on a whim. But what steps do you follow if the decision is important? How do you know you’ve made the right one?

People in this area and in this congregation are often highly educated. Presumably that makes more resources available to us in decision making. We’re educated to be rational, to use reason, to employ science, and so on. You would expect such things to give us some advantages in making good decisions.

Nicodemus is a well educated man, trained in Torah and in the ways of God. People would have gone to him to get expert advice on matters of scripture and the Law. His opinions would have carried some weight for those wrestling with a religious decision.

Nicodemus is intrigued with Jesus. As a religious expert, it’s obvious to him that Jesus has a connection to God, and he so he goes to see Jesus in order to learn more. Presumably he wants to make a decision about Jesus. Yes, the power of God is clearly with him, but what exactly does that mean. But when Nick goes to talk with Jesus, he goes at night.

In John’s gospel, light and darkness are terms loaded with theological symbolism. Jesus is the light that shines in the darkness, the light no darkness can overcome. For some reason, Nicodemus visits at night, in the darkness. Not a good sign.

Sure enough, Nicodemus struggles to understand Jesus.  Jesus says, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above/again.”  There’s not a comparable English word that carries both these meanings so it’s hard for us to join in Nick’s confusion, to hear something different from what Jesus intends. We have to translate it one way or the other, either “from above,” or “again.”

Still, it should not have been that hard for Nick to get it. “From above,” is the more typical meaning, and even if Nick mistakenly went with the more literal meaning initially, the correct meaning should have become clear when Jesus tries to clarify things, speaking of being born of the Spirit. But Nicodemus remains stupefied.

Sermon: Any Life Here?

Ezekiel 37:1-14

Any Life Here?

James Sledge                                                                           Pentecost, May 20, 2018

   The scene is a battlefield where one army had annihilated another. The defeat has been so total, there were either no survivors, or all those who lived had been taken prisoner. No one left to care for the dying; no one to bury the dead. All who fell on the battlefield remained there, scavengers and nature gradually doing their work. When only bones were left, they baked in the sun, drying and bleaching as months turned to years.

   As Ezekiel gazes on this desolate scene, God speaks. “Mortal, can these bones live?” What a ridiculous question. The situation is beyond hopeless. There is nothing here to be resuscitated. There’s nothing left but bones strewn and scattered about, like puzzle pieces that have been shaken up and then thrown all over the floor. 

   As far as the prophet can tell, it’s an impossible situation. There is no way. But the prophet has been surprised by the strange ways of God before, and so he throws the question back. “O Lord God, you know.”

   Sure enough, God provides the answer by giving the prophet instructions. “Prophesy to these bones, and say to them: O dry bones, hear the word of the Lord.” The prophet does as he’s told, and the bones began to reassemble and take on muscles and skin. Then there is a movement of wind/breath/Spirit, and the reassembled, fleshed out bones come to life.

   Some Christians have tried to make this vision about resurrection and eternal life, but that’s not what God says it’s about. “Mortal, these bones are the whole house of Israel.” Israel may lost all hope, yet God will restore them. God still has plans for them.

   Israel and the prophet are in Babylon, exiled from Jerusalem, which now lies in ruins, Solomon’s great temple nothing but rubble. The walls of David’s great city have been torn down. God’s promise of a house and kingdom that would last forever, of descendants who would always sit on the throne of David, has apparently been revoked.

   In exile, Israel’s theologians and faith leaders struggle to make sense of things. What does it mean to be God’s chosen people when God has allowed them to be utterly defeated and carried into exile? Has Israel’s failure to keep covenant brought it all to an end? Is there any going back? It is a time of crisis, a faith crisis, an existential crisis. Is there any future for Israel? Or is she just a failed experiment, a washed up relic that belongs to another time?

Sermon video: Not Hindering God

Audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

Sermon: Not Hindering God

Acts 8:26-40

Not Hindering God

James Sledge                                                                                       April 29, 2018

Gathering those who fear they’re not enough, so we may experience grace, renewal, and wholeness as God’s beloved. This new “missional mandate,” that has been printed in our bulletins for about two months now, was developed by Session through a long process that began with last year’s Renew Groups.

Session took the feedback from these groups and created synopsis of what we heard. It spoke of a culture that tells us to be more productive, more athletic, more studious, etc. It spoke of people feeling stressed, tired, and harried. It suggested that we needed to remind ourselves of what we already know. God loves us just as we are.

The synopsis then wondered what this might mean, suggesting, “Perhaps we are called to be a church for recovering perfectionists, of Sabbath keepers. A place where we can rest, where we are enough, where we are fully known, where we are wholly and completely loved by God, and where we can experience true joy.”

Last summer, we presented this synopsis to the congregation, with listening sessions after worship for people to tell us their thoughts, to let us know if we had heard the feedback from the Renew Groups correctly. Overwhelmingly, the answer was “Yes.”

With the synopsis confirmed, Session held a Friday evening, Saturday retreat where we joined in fellowship, worship, and work on a missional mandate. We listened for the Spirit, and over time, the mandate emerged, Gathering those who fear they’re not enough, so we may experience grace, renewal, and wholeness as God’s beloved.

I mentioned in the sermon a couple of weeks ago that further work by Session has identified several strategy areas where we hope to live into this new mandate, areas with much deeper meaning than their shorthand titles indicate: Gather, Deepen, Share.

It has taken a great deal of work to get us to this point, but the most difficult work is just beginning. We must figure out how to live out our mandate. What sorts of programs and ministries will help us Gather, Deepen, and Share? No doubt some current activities will, but we will also need new ministries and methods. And that inevitably will require letting go of some old ones. We can’t become something new doing exactly what we are doing now.

Sermon video: Hearing the Shepherd

Audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

Sermon: Hearing the Shepherd

John 10:11-18

Hearing the Shepherd

James Sledge                                                                                       April 22, 2018

Every now and then, someone from another congregation calls the church office to ask about leasing space for their worship service. Most of these requests have been immigrant faith communities who are just starting out or have outgrown the space they are renting.

Obviously there are logistical challenges to having two different congregations in one church building, and so when we get such a request our Worship Committee and our Building and Grounds Committee look at the particulars and make a recommendation to the Session. Clearly we’ve never managed to work out the details to everyone’s satisfaction during my time as pastor here as we’ve not had another congregation on site since the Episcopalians left nearly six years ago.

But assuming that we were able to work out the logistics and come up with a rental agreement that suits us and the other congregation, we would still have one more hurdle to clear. Any lease of our worship space requires the approval of National Capital Presbytery.

In our denomination, individual churches hold their property “in trust” for the denomination. It belongs to us only so long as we are operating a Presbyterian congregation here. If a church closes, the members can’t just sell the property and split the proceeds. That property goes to the denomination.

And so the denomination has a vested interest in making sure its congregations don’t take out risky loans, don’t end up with a lien on the property, or get into a lease that might tie the congregation’s hands at some point in the future.

Along with these mostly financial concerns, the presbytery also “reserves the right to disapprove a lease to any organization (including a church) if it or its parent body (1) actively disparages the Presbyterian Church (USA), (2) denies that the PC(USA) is a branch of the true church of Jesus Christ, and/or (3) engages in activities or promotes values that are antithetical to those of the PC(USA).”[1]

I wonder exactly what that last one means. Would we not rent space to a church that doesn’t ordain women? How about LGBT folk? Should we be concerned about where they stand on same sex marriage? What sort of values must they have to rent space here?

Such questions make me wonder about what makes a church truly a church? Where are the boundaries? What is it that gives a church its identity? If you moved to another city and were looking for a church, what would you want to know? What would put a church on your list to visit, and what would keep it off?

It turns out that it’s difficult, even impossible, to do church in a generic sort of way. If worship is going to be an important part of your church, you have to decide what that worship will look like, what sort of music to use, if you plan to use music. You must decide what sources of insight are most important. If there is a big theological controversy, what has the final say? We Presbyterians speak of scripture as the ultimate authority, but Catholics put church teachings on a par with scripture.

Because it’s so hard to be a generic church, because you pretty much have to be some particular kind of church, there are all sorts of modifiers people use to describe their church. I belong to a progressive church. I belong to an evangelical church. We’re a contemporary worship church. I go to a non-denominational mega-church. We do “high church.” And the list goes on and on.

 Amidst all these different sorts of church, it may be interesting to stop and think about what it is that most defines us. Is it that we are a church of Jesus Christ, or that we are progressive, liberal, evangelical and so on?