Sermon video: Idyllic Community

Audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

Sermon: Idyllic Community

Acts 2:37-47

Idyllic Community

James Sledge                                                                                       March 31, 2019

The congregation in our scripture reading is the very first one. It’s brand new, and there is no church building, no Sunday School, no youth group. There is no paid staff or formal governing structure. There is no budget, committees, task forces, or ministry teams. But despite having almost none of the things we associate with church, this congregation has something absolutely remarkable and astounding, the goodwill of all the people.

Think about that. What group or institution in our world has the goodwill of all the people, the entire population? Traditionally things such as education and medicine were held in high esteem, but not as much these days. When I was a kid, I got the impression that everyone trusted Walter Cronkite delivering the CBS News each evening, but I’m pretty sure the news media doesn’t have the goodwill of all the people these days.

What about religion? If you took a clipboard and walked the sidewalks of DC, asking people their opinion of religion in general, and the church in particular, what sort of response might you get? What if you went door to door here in Falls Church and asked about FCPC? How likely would you be to discover the goodwill of all the people?

Sermon video: Taking Our Place in the Story

Audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

For much of this spring, sermons at FCPC will not be from the lectionary passages. Rather the passages will be chosen to help interpret the various facets of our new missional mandate: "Gathering those who fear they are not enough, so that we can experience grace, wholeness, and renewal as God's beloved." This sermon is the first of these and accompanies a presentation on "How We Got Here."

Sermon: Taking Our Place in the Story

Hebrews 11:39-12:2

Taking Our Place in the Story

James Sledge                                                                                       March 17, 2019

Last April, Michael Gerson, Washington Post columnist and former aide and speech writer for George W. Bush, wrote an article in The Atlantic magazine entitled, “The Last Temptation: How evangelicals, once culturally confident, became an anxious minority seeking political protection from the least traditionally religious president in living memory.”[1]  The article is tinged with sadness at the moral demise of evangelicalism, something Gerson deeply values as one raised in an evangelical home and educated at the evangelical Wheaton College. Here are some excerpts.

Trump supporters tend to dismiss moral scruples about his behavior as squeamishness over the president’s “style.” But the problem is the distinctly non-Christian substance of his values. Trump’s unapologetic materialism—his equation of financial and social success with human achievement and worth—is a negation of Christian teaching. His tribalism and hatred for “the other” stand in direct opposition to Jesus’s radical ethic of neighbor love…

…The moral convictions of many evangelical leaders have become a function of their partisan identification. This is not mere gullibility; it is utter corruption. Blinded by political tribalism and hatred for their political opponents, these leaders can’t see how they are undermining the causes to which they once dedicated their lives. Little remains of a distinctly Christian public witness.

Fear and anxiety drive the “utter corruption” and loss of Christian witness Gerson writes about. But fear and anxiety are hardly restricted to evangelicals. There’s a lot of fear, anxiety, and pessimism in the progressive church these days. Conservatives and progressives have different fears and anxieties, but we can be equally reactive to our particular favorites. Fear, anxiety, and pessimism tend to corrupt our witness. If we could only lower the level. Perhaps something like the pep talk in the letter to the Hebrews could help.

Hebrews isn’t a letter like those Paul wrote to his congregations. It’s more of a sermon. Its preacher is worried about his congregation’s fear and pessimism. They had hoped for a quick arrival of God’s new day, a setting right of a world where small numbers of powerful and wealthy controlled things and enjoyed the good life while most people struggled to get by. But that hadn’t happened. Throw in the popular suspicion of Christians in the Roman world, add an occasional persecution, and you have a prescription for fatigue, anxiety, and pessimism.

And so the preacher tries to rouse them. Like the coach of a struggling team, he reminds them of all the greats that went before them and how they had triumphed under the most difficult and trying circumstances. But then the pep talk takes a rather bizarre turn. None of those past greats, says the preacher, received what had been promised them.

Here the preacher moves from pep talk to divine mystery. Greats of the past, the heroes of the faith, cannot make it, cannot be perfected or made complete, without us.

Sermon video: Are You Listening?

Audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

Sermon: Are You Listening?

Luke 9:28-36

Are You Listening?

James Sledge                                                       March 3, 2019 – Transfiguration of the Lord

I’ve just begun reading a book entitled, The Answer to Bad Religion Is Not No Religion: A Guide to Good Religion for Seekers, Skeptics, and Believers. It’s a follow-up to another book by the same author, “What the Least I Can Believe and Still Be a Christian?” A Guide to What Matters Most.

Both books address, in different ways, the issue of Christian identity. It’s a topic I find increasingly critical in a  world where many didn’t grow up in the church. What they know of Christianity often comes from its portrayal in the media, too often examples of  the “Bad Religion” in that book. Meanwhile, Mainline and progressive Christians are often fuzzy about our Christian identity, other than not being like that “Bad Religion.”

It is all well and good not to be like those “Bad Religion” Christians, but you can’t define yourself solely by what you are not. You also have to know what you are. And if we’re talking Christian identity, it must have something to do with Jesus. That’s one reason I think this scripture on the Transfiguration is such an important passage.

Just on the face of it the event is a big deal. A cloud and God’s voice on a mountaintop recall the Israelites at Mt. Sinai. Moses and Elijah represent the law and the prophets, the very core of Jewish faith. And the divine words, “This is my Son,” recall coronation psalms along with Jesus’ baptism.

Just prior to the Transfiguration, Jesus foretells his coming death, and he teaches his disciples what it means to follow him. “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will save it.”  Those words still echo when Peter’s befuddled proposal for some sort of shrine is interrupted by God’s command. "This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!"

“Listen to him.” With Christian identity, there is no avoiding this. Shrines and rituals alone won’t do. Professing one’s belief won’t do. Being a caring progressive or holding fast to conservative family values won’t do. We must listen to Jesus.

When I was a boy and my mother yelled, “Listen to me!” she spoke of more than hearing the words. “Listen” put me on notice. I’d better pay attention, and I’d better do what I heard.

Sermon video: Upside Down Blessings

Audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

Sermon video: Call Stories

Audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

Sermon: Upside Down Blessings

Luke 6:17-26

Upside Down Blessings

James Sledge                                                                                       February 17, 2019

Many years ago, prior to becoming a pastor, I was teaching an adult Sunday School class. We were studying Luke, and lesson was on the “Sermon on the Plain,” a portion of which we just heard. I read the four blessings or beatitudes and the corresponding woes. I then asked the class what they thought about these words that spoke of God’s favor on the poor but woe on the wealthy. 

One lady quickly spoke up to correct me. Jesus had said no such thing, she insisted. He was talking about the poor in spirit, not actual poverty. When I suggested that she might be thinking of Matthew’s gospel, that Luke spoke of rich and poor, of well-off and those without enough to eat, she only became more adamant. Jesus couldn’t possibly have meant that.

I suspect that when most people think of the Beatitudes, they think of those found in Matthew. Matthew’s list is a good bit longer than Luke’s, and it has no corresponding woes. And it also does say, “Blessed are the poor in spirit…”

Matthew’s beatitudes are more popular, and the long list of blessings sometimes prompts people to read them as instructions on how to get blessed. I think that misreads Matthew’s gospel, but you certainly can manage that with many of his beatitudes. But Luke is an entirely different matter, and unless we’re going to tell people to become poor, hungry, and mournful in order to gain God’s favor, we’ll have to find some other way to understand them.

When Luke tells of these beatitudes and woes, he uses Old Testament language of blessing and curse. The contrast is between God’s favor and God’s active disfavor. “Blessed” means God wants things to go well for you. “Woe” means God wishes bad things upon “you who are rich… who are full now…who are laughing now… when all speak well of you…”

It’s more than a little unnerving. If you are poor, hungry, mourning or hated, then God is for you. But if you’re well off, have a full pantry, are happy and laughing, and everyone thinks you are wonderful, God is against you. That can’t be right, can it? No wonder that woman in my Bible study class said what she did.

These blessings and woes are completely upside down and backwards from what the world expects. The world says, “God helps those who help themselves.” We thank God for our many blessings, often referring to possessions and good fortune that would seem to put us squarely in the “But woe to you…” camp. And I think that may be exactly the point Jesus is making. He says that God’s ways are completely upside down and backwards to ours.

Throughout history, almost every culture has used religion to buttress the status quo, its economic system, and so on. It was not so long ago in this country that most Christian denominations issued statements saying racially based slavery was ordained by God. Many of these denominations later split in two when Christians in the north began to question such statements and seek to overturn them.

Sermon video: People of Love

Audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

Sermon: Call Stories

Luke 5:1-11 (Isaiah 6:1-8)

Call Stories

James Sledge                                                                                       February 10, 2019

On my Facebook feed I’ve seen some of my colleagues commenting on their churches’ annual meetings. It’s that time of year in the Presbyterian Church. Some churches make a big deal out of it and some simply vote on the pastor’s terms of call. In many congregations, including this one, the annual meeting includes electing a new class of elders and, if the church has deacons, deacons as well.

Electing people as elders and deacons has changed a lot over the years. At one time, becoming an elder on the Session was a little like getting put on the Supreme Court. You were likely to stay there until you retired from it or died. This had some good points. It made elder a very esteemed ministry, and it meant that churches were very selective in seeking out people who were called to such ministry.

There was a down side, of course. Sessions sometimes got pretty old and crusty. Some became heavily invested in making sure nothing ever changed. At some point the negatives outweighed the positives, and the denomination instituted the term limits that we have now where no one can serve more than six years without taking at least a year off.

And so we’re much less likely to have old and crusty Sessions. In many congregations, it is unheard of for anyone to serve more than a single, three year term, and incoming classes of elders and deacons are routinely filled with people who’ve never been one before. This sometimes makes it difficult to find enough people year after year to fill all the slots. Talk to anyone who’s ever served on a nominating committee, and you’ll likely hear about all the times people said “No” when asked if they would serve.

I served on a nominating committee at the church where I was a member before going to seminary, and the pastor is always a member of the nominating committee, so I’ve had a lot of experience with the process. In my previous church we even went to a system where the nominating committee came up names but the associate pastor and I made the actual calls to ask people if they would serve. It was an idea meant to take away what many saw as the most difficult part of being on a nominating committee and make it easier to recruit people for that.

Sermon: People of Love

1 Corinthians 13:1-13

People of Love

James Sledge                                                                                       February 3, 2019

Way back in the spring of 1981, not long after Shawn and I had gotten engaged, we were visiting at her parents for the weekend. They lived in Gaffney, SC, only an hour from Charlotte, so we went down there often. And as we typically did on such visits, we attended worship at First Baptist Church in Gaffney, the church where Shawn had grown up.

We had begun thinking about wedding particulars, where the reception would be, who the bridesmaids and groomsmen were, and the elements of the service itself. Like a lot of people, we had agreed we wanted the words from today’s scripture reading used in the wedding, and as we sat in the pews, waiting for worship to begin on that Sunday morning, I opened up a pew Bible and began to search for the passage.

I knew the Bible somewhat, and I was reasonably sure that the passage was in one of Paul’s letters. I thought it was in 1 Corinthians, but after flipping repeatedly through its pages, I couldn’t locate it. I may have expanded my search to other books of the Bible – I don’t really remember – but  obviously I didn’t find it there either.

Only later did I discover why I couldn’t find the passage, even though I had been looking in the right place. In 1981, First Baptist Church of Gaffney still had King James Bibles in their pews, and in the King James translation, 1 Corinthians 13 reads differently. Though I speak with the tongues of men and angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing…  And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.

Not exactly the sort of thing to sound all romantic at a wedding ceremony. We still used the Corinthians passage at our wedding, but not from the King James. In my twenty some years as a pastor, I’ve probably used this 1 Corinthians passage more than any other at weddings I’ve done. Always, of course, with a translation that says “love,” although I typically point out that this isn’t about romantic love.