Recently someone told me that she liked the bumper sticker on my car, but as she stated her reasons for appreciating it, I realized she had misread it. It was an understandable error. I don't recall exactly when I placed it on the bumper, but it was probably ten or more years ago. As the years have taken their toll on both the bumper sticker and the vehicle it's attached to, the sticker has begun to curl at the edges, partially obscuring the message. The person who liked it had seen only, "God is NOT a Republican." She'd not noticed the "Or a Democrat."
I should add that this admirer of my bumper sticker saw it in a church setting. Unfortunately I didn't have a chance to follow up with her and see if she liked because she thought it a nice counter-balance to the way some conservative Christians have intertwined faith and the Republican party. Or perhaps she liked it because she thinks God is more of a Democrat. But when the bumper sticker spoke its entire message, it proclaims a God belonging to no political party. God is non-partisan, but that does not mean God is not political. In fact, God is very political.
The laws that God gives in the Old Testament require a certain sort of community, one that cares for the poor, where landowners must leave part of their crop behind for the needy, and where land that the rich have acquired must be returned to the original owners every 50 years. All debts were to be canceled at the same time. Implementing such requirements was a political undertaking, and there is not a lot of evidence that Israel ever abided by all these rules. No doubt the rich and powerful objected.
When Jesus came, he stood firmly in the politics of God and the Old Testament prophets. He said he came to bring "good news to the poor... release to the captive... to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor." The year of the Lord's favor is the year when property goes back to original owners and all debts are called off. No wonder Jesus scared the powers-that-be.
A lot of people wish "the church would stay out of politics," but doing so requires ignoring an awful lot that God/Jesus said. Relegating Jesus to a personal Savior concerned only with getting you to heaven requires ignoring huge portions of Jesus' teachings.
Jesus was political. Jesus did not get executed by Rome because he was meek and nice. He got executed because he was perceived as a threat. He proclaimed a Kingdom of God that put the poor and outcast first and the rich and powerful last. "Blessed are you who are poor for yours is the Kingdom of God... But woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation." (Luke 6:20, 24)
The people who ran the current kingdom, the one headed by the Roman emperor, didn't like such talk. Neither did the wealthy leaders of Temple Judaism who had a good thing going with the Romans. But the poor, the regular folks who paid the exorbitant taxes, loved it. That scared Rome and the Jewish powers-that-be even more.
But while Jesus is political in the extreme, his methods did not look at all like others who wanted to shake up the system. No violent overthrow. No weapons. Instead he called his followers to operate out of an ethic of love. Jesus called out injustice. He condemned those who exploited the poor and weak and marginalized, but his political vision was to be enacted in strange ways, ways that loved and prayed for enemies. (Although Jesus did once get so upset by Temple vendors who were ripping off pilgrims that he ran them out of the place.)
Perhaps no one in recent US history has embodied Jesus' way of being political better than Martin Luther King, Jr. He pulled no punches in condemning the politics of segregation that dehumanized African Americans while reserving the riches and benefits of America for whites. MLK terrified the powerful in much of America, but not because of weapons or violence.
I wonder if American Christianity can ever recover a faith that is political in the manner of Jesus or MLK. I think Jesus and MLK could act as they did, being very political but not engaging in hatred or violence, because they trusted that God was part of their cause. The assurance that God was engaged in the struggle meant that outcomes were not entirely up to them. They could struggle and suffer because they knew, as Dr. King said, that "the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice." It so bends because God is a God of justice, and justice always involves politics.
As someone who sees much happening in our country right now that goes against God's care for the poor, the vulnerable, the immigrant, it is easy to despair. Such despair often turns to frustration and anger, and I rarely act in ways that are helpful when my anger burns hot.
But if God is indeed a God of politics, a God who will not long remain on the sidelines as the poor and vulnerable cry out, then my despair and anger can be tempered by hope. I can argue and agitate for the politics of God with resorting to self-destructive behaviors driven by anger and despair. But oh do I wish that the arc would bend a little more speedily. Come quickly, Lord Jesus.
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.
Thursday, June 28, 2018
Sunday, June 24, 2018
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.
______________________________________________________________________________
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.
______________________________________________________________________________
Tuesday, June 19, 2018
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.
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.
Monday, June 11, 2018
Sunday, June 10, 2018
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 20th 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?
Tuesday, May 29, 2018
Sunday, May 27, 2018
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.
Sunday, May 20, 2018
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?
Monday, May 7, 2018
Sunday, April 29, 2018
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.
Wednesday, April 25, 2018
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