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.
Monday, August 10, 2020
Sunday, August 9, 2020
Testing Faith: Stepping Out of the Boat
Matthew 14:22-33
Testing Faith: Stepping Out of the Boat
James Sledge August
9, 2020
Even
in an age of biblical illiteracy, a great many people have heard of Jesus
walking on the water. It’s a well-worn metaphor. The part about Peter walking
on the water may not be as well known, but I heard the story enough growing up
in the church that it’s familiar to me and, perhaps, to many of you.
If
you are familiar with the story, what are your thoughts on Peter? How does he
function in this story, as a heroic figure, an example to follow? Or is he a vivid
illustration of the disciples’ regular failure to “get it,” their struggles
with faith?
I
don’t know if I came to this on my own or if I picked it up along the way from
sermons and Sunday School, but I’ve long thought of Peter as a cautionary tale,
a failure, the one you don’t want to be, soaking wet with Jesus wagging a
finger at you. “You of little faith…”
I
mentioned in last week’s sermon how my father read Bible stories to us as children.
This helped me learn many of the major stories from the Bible, but it also
oversimplified them, making them a bit like comic books. And that view of
Scripture stuck with me well into adulthood.
I
thought of the Bible as mostly a collection of simple, even crude stories with
clear and obvious meanings. This thinking was encouraged by popular notions of
the Bible as straightforward reports of “what happened.” It never occurred to
me that much of the Bible was written by sophisticated theological thinkers who
told carefully nuanced stories, filled with symbolism and multiple layers of
meaning.
In
my simple, comic book view, our gospel reading is a plain old miracle story,
another fantastical account of the unbelievable stuff Jesus could do. The
disciples are there just to provide terrified, awe-filled witnesses, and Peter,
well Peter’s tendency to speak first and think later always got him into trouble.
And here he goes again.
Monday, August 3, 2020
Sunday, August 2, 2020
Sermon: Assaulted by God
Genesis 32:22-31
Assaulted by God
James Sledge August
2, 2020
When
I was a child, my father would read Bible stories to us before bed. I can still
see the big Bible Story book he used. It had stories about Jesus, but as a
child, the Old Testament stories stood out more. There were a lot of “hero” type
stories: David fighting the giant Goliath with only a sling, Samson, the Hebrew
version of Hercules. And then there were all those stories about Abraham and
Sarah and their offspring: Isaac, Esau and Jacob, and then all of Jacob’s sons,
including Joseph.
The
characters in those Bible stories didn’t seem much like real people to me. Perhaps
that was just how far removed they were historically and culturally. Or perhaps
it was because the Bible stories themselves had a kind of comic book quality to
them.
Whatever
the reasons, I was well into adulthood before it dawned on me what a messed up,
dysfunctional family Abraham and Sarah’s clan was. It starts with the
half-brothers Ishmael and Isaac and only gets worse from there.
Rebekah
and Isaac have twin boys, Esau and Jacob. Esau is the first born by a few
seconds, and the sibling rivalry is off and running. Not that the parents help
matters much. Dad likes Esau, and Mom likes Jacob. Esau is an outdoorsy,
hunting and fishing sort of guy, and Dad
plans to pass on the family business to him. Jacob is a Momma’s boy who likes
hanging out in the tent. He’s also sneaky and manipulative, a scoundrel who
takes advantage of Esau’s tendency to act first and think later. And his mother
is happy to assist.
Jacob
and Esau are born when Isaac is quite old, and he is feeble and blind by the
time the boys are fully grown. Sensing that his time is short, Isaac calls Esau
and asks him to go out hunting and bring back some savory game they can enjoy
together. After the meal, Isaac will formally sign over the family business. In
the language of the Bible, he will bless Esau.
Monday, July 27, 2020
Sunday, July 26, 2020
Sermon: Red Socks: Dare We Be Christians?
Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52
Red Socks - Dare We Be Christians?
James Sledge July
26, 2020
Have
you ever done a load of white laundry, and something dark got mixed in? A
single, red item somehow went unnoticed, and you open the washer to discover
that everything has turned pink. It’s amazing the way one, unseen thing can
give you a new wardrobe.
Jesus
says that the kingdom of heaven, the coming rule of God, is a little like that.
Jesus speaks of yeast and mustard seeds rather than red socks, but the meaning
is much the same. Mustard plants weren’t typically grown as crops in Palestine,
but the tiny seeds did find their way into the grain farmers sowed. The minuscule,
dust-like seeds were easy to miss amidst the grain. Only later would the farmer
realize that a fast growing mustard plant was transforming his field into
something quite other than he had intended.
And
the yeast in Jesus’ parable is not the packaged product we buy in stores for
baking. This leaven is dough that has soured, begun to go bad. Bread makers
know it as starter. It is added to a
new mix of dough to make it rise in baking.
In
the Bible, leaven is almost always a symbol of corruption. Leavened bread could
never be used as an offering to God. At Passover, not only was leavened bread
forbidden, but no trace of leaven was allowed in people’s homes. And Jesus
himself speaks of the teachings of the Pharisees as leaven, something that
corrupts and distorts the good gift of God’s Law.
But
in the parables we heard this morning, Jesus speaks of God’s hoped-for new day
as like a mustard seed that unexpectedly sprang up in the field, like leaven
that has transformed the bread into something that is no longer fit to be
offered to God, like a red sock that has turned white dress shirts pink.
Monday, July 20, 2020
Sunday, July 19, 2020
Sermon: New Life as Exiles
Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43
New Life as Exiles
James Sledge July
19, 2020
Back
in March when the stay-at-home order was first announced, I don’t think any of
us could have imagined that we would be holding worship today in an empty
sanctuary, live streaming it into people’s homes. And even now, in mid-July, we
still don’t know when we might have anything resembling worship as it used to
be.
COVID-19
has turned the church world upside down. No one knows exactly what church is
going to look like in the coming years. No doubt, livestreaming is here to
stay, even when we can have some sort of in person worship. But it also seems
highly likely that many congregations will never recover. Unlike FCPC, many
churches have no real financial reserves and operate on extremely tight budgets.
Some who study religious institutions are predicting large scale church
closings in the coming years.
But
what about church in general? Will worshiping from home open church up to new
people, or will it accelerate an already established trend of church decline?
Will people start to treat church like Netflix, watching a little worship when
they have time or the mood strikes them? Will church move further and further
from the center of people’s lives and from the center of the culture, further
diminishing the prominent place church once held?
Over
twenty years ago, long before COVID-19, Old Testament scholar Walter
Brueggemann suggested the metaphor of exile
as a good way to describe where the Church finds itself in America.[1]
He said that we had been deported from our comfortable homeland of the mid-20th
Century into a world that no longer works in ways we fully understand. The
stores stay open and youth sports teams play games during our sacred worship
times. Neither public schools nor the culture at large encourages church
participation as they once did. The landscape of America has changed dramatically
since the 1950s, and institutions like the Presbyterian Church, which had their
heyday then, find themselves aliens in a strange land.
If
exile was an appropriate metaphor at the close of the 20th century,
surely it is even more so today. The forces that led Dr. Brueggemann to speak
of the Church in exile are still with us, perhaps even stronger. And now
COVID-19 could push church even further to the edges of society and daily life,
increasing the sense of exile.
In
the Bible, when Israel is carried off into literal exile in Babylon, it created
a crisis. As exiles in a strange land, nothing supported their religious life.
The Temple was gone, the Ark of the Covenant lost, and no altar existed where
offerings could be made. The Babylonian culture around them had different ways,
different gods, different religious practices. It would be easy, even tempting,
simply to adopt the ways of the prevailing culture.
Exiles are always in danger of
disappearing, of being absorbed into the culture where they find themselves.
Countless cultures have simply disappeared over the centuries as a result. To prevent
this, exiles must cultivate a distinctiveness, a peculiarity. They must live in
ways that set them apart, allowing them to maintain a distinct identity different
from the surrounding culture. For the Hebrews in Babylon, Sabbath keeping and
synagogue emerged in exile as crucial elements that marked them as different
and distinct. But what about us?
Monday, July 13, 2020
Sunday, July 12, 2020
Sermon: The Hard Work of Unity
Philippians 2:1-8
The Hard Work of Unity
James Sledge July
12, 2020
Recently
I was discussing our sermon series on the Confession of Belhar with Diane. I
was wondering whether we should have a fourth installment or stop at three. Two
of the primary themes from Belhar, reconciliation and justice, would get
covered fairly thoroughly in the first three sermons. That left only the theme
of unity.
I
suspect I grimaced a little at the thought of preaching about unity. I think I
said something to Diane along the lines of, “I don’t know. I hate to do
something trite.” The phrase, “Can’t we all just get along?” popped into my
head. Unity often gets spoken of as something that should be simple if only we
all just worked together, if we all just realized that we’re basically the
same, if we all just loved one another. Unity isn’t all that hard, such words
seem to say. We just have to do this.
We just have to do that.
Diane
first suggested of a sermon series on Belhar in the wake of George Floyd’s
murder. Because Belhar addressed apartheid in South Africa, it seemed
particularly well suited to the most profound and persistent source of division
in our country, that of race.
Despite
the intransience of racism in America, we still want to believe we could be rid
of it if only we just did this or just did that. Despite decade after
decade where corporate boardrooms remain largely white, where “better”
neighborhoods and “better” schools are largely white, where everything from
wealth to education to job opportunities to pay to home ownership to medical
care and more are skewed in favor of whites, we want to believe that there is
just one more little thing we need to do, and it will go away.
Tuesday, June 30, 2020
Sunday, June 28, 2020
Sermon: Justice at the Center?
Amos 5:18-27
Justice at the Center?
James Sledge June
28, 2020
I
recently read an article by a Black, Baptist minister entitled, “Why I’m Skeptical of New Christian Allies.”[1]
His target seems to be more evangelical churches, but I don’t think progressive,
mainline churches are completely spared. Pastor Lavarin is encouraged that so
many Christians, including large numbers who’ve not previously been active in
issues of race, are speaking out against police brutality in the wake of George
Floyd’s murder. But these feelings are tempered by worries that the change
doesn’t go deep enough.
He writes, “Although numerous Christians have
finally chosen to name racism, I am woefully skeptical of new allies who have
rushed to protest without examining the ways in which their own theologies
continue to nurture it. The failure to address theological racism will
cause new allies to come to this moment believing that the fight for justice is
merely theologically adjacent to their brand of evangelism as “the real work of
ministry”. For some, this is still just a societal issue, and not a
theological one.”
As I said earlier, this doesn’t seem to target us
Presbyterians. We tend not to have evangelism high up on our list of “the real
work of ministry,” but I’m not sure justice is much higher for us than
evangelism. For many Presbyterians, the real work of ministry is holding good
worship, educating and nurturing children, and perhaps engaging in some
charitable acts in the community. And so some of Pastor Lavarin’s critiques may
apply equally to us.
He continues, “Prior to this moment, new allies have
preached a gospel of Jesus devoid of justice. They failed to make the
theological connection that Jesus and justice are, in fact, mutually inclusive.
To invoke Jesus and then to invoke justice is redundant. Every time we invoke
the name of Jesus, we commit ourselves to the ministry of justice. Every time
we invoke the name of Jesus, we declare the Psalmist’s decree that justice and
righteousness are the foundations of God’s throne. Every time we invoke the
name of Jesus, we summon the Messianic prophecy that the Spirit of the LORD was
upon Jesus, to preach the good news to the poor, to set the prisoners free from
the Roman industrial complex, and to proclaim liberty to those who were
oppressed. Every time we invoke the name of Jesus, we remember that Jesus was
convicted of a crime he did not commit, received an unfair trial, and was
sentenced to a state-sanctioned lynching on a tree. We cannot divorce our
theology from the ministry of justice, for to do so, is to divorce ourselves
from Jesus, himself. The ministry of justice is the ministry of Jesus.”
But this pastor saves his most pointed barb for the end of his article. “Before your church decides to go out and protest, consider protesting your own theology that continues to intentionally and unintentionally do harm to Black and Brown bodies. Before taking a knee and holding a prayer vigil, consider this: there is no real substantive difference between a racist bigot holding a Bible in front of a church, and a Christian holding up a #BlackLivesMatter sign with no plans to parse out the practical implementation of the holy truth of justice.”
Ouch. Even if
we are not the intended target of this arrow, it still has a sting for we have
often viewed justice as a good thing, but not necessarily something central to
our faith. It’s one of those extras like joining a prayer group or volunteering
at Welcome Table. It’s optional, an elective in the walk of faith curriculum.
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