Sermon for Advent 2: Cynicism and Hope

 Luke 1:5-25
Cynicism and Hope
James Sledge                                                         December 5, 2021, Advent 2

Annunciation to Zechariah
Ethiopic Bible Illumination,
British Library, ca. 1700

The problem of racism may well be the most persistent and intractable one in American history. It has proved to be remarkably resilient and adaptive. Many hoped that the Civil Rights movement of the 1950s and 60s would deal a death blow to racism. But while many forms of discrimination were outlawed, racism remained woven into our culture. The killings of Trayvon Martin, Eric Garner, Michael Brown, Breonna Taylor, George Floyd, and more have revealed over and over again how Black lives have less value in our society than do white lives.

Black Lives Matter began as a hashtag in response to George Zimmerman’s acquittal for killing Trayvon Martin, took shape as a movement following Michael Brown and Eric Garner’s killings, and emerged as a powerful force in the wake of George Floyd’s murder.

Estimates are that somewhere between 15 and 26 million Americans took part in Black Lives Matter protests in 2020, making it one of the largest movements in American history. There seemed to be tremendous momentum for addressing systemic racism in our criminal justice system and society at large. Our own congregation repeatedly held Saturday, Silent Witness demonstrations supporting reforms. Elders offering the prayers of the people during Sunday worship repeatedly appealed to God to assist us in this work.

But more recently, fears over crime have blunted calls for police reform. Parents have objected loudly to diversity efforts in local school systems. Critical Race Theory has become a rallying cry for those who fear a hard look at the impact of racism in this country. And even though confession and repentance are bedrock parts of Christian faith, there is a large contingent of conservative Christians whose objections to racial diversity efforts are seen as articles of their faith. And while the recent Ahmaud Arbery verdict might seem to be a ray of hope, the sad fact is that without that video, there would never have even been a trial.

It is all more than a little disheartening. And if it is disheartening to me, I can only imagine how it must feel for Black leaders who have been on the forefront of racial justice efforts for decades. They must be beyond tired. Will the day ever come?

Sermon for Advent 1: Rhythms and Patterns

 Luke 21:25-36
Rhythms and Patterns
James Sledge                                                         November 28, 2021, Advent 1

Greek icon of the Second Coming,
ca. 1700

It took its sweet time this fall, but the cooler weather finally arrived, and winter weather
is just around the corner. Even though climate change has moderated winters a bit, there is still a regular rhythm to the changing of the seasons, one that we well know how to prepare for.

At my house, the tubs holding sweaters and other winter clothes have been switched out with the shorts and summer clothes in the dressers. And those summer clothes been taken to the basement to hibernate through the winter.

I assume that similar summer to fall to winter preparations have or are taking place at your home. Furnaces get checked out; fireplaces get cleaned; houseplants that had been on the porch get brought inside. The patterns vary from home to home, but we all know how to get ready for winter. We all know the rhythms of the seasons.

Down in Texas, my daughter and her family are preparing for a different sort of transition, the birth of their second child. They’ve done this once before so there is some familiarity, but there will be differences. A toddler will have to adjust to a new sibling and parents will need to navigate caring for a toddler and a newborn. To some degree, it will be uncharted territory, something quite different from the shifts that happen each year with the change of the seasons.

All of our lives we experience changes, but not all changes are the same. Some are regular and predictable. This winter may be colder or warmer, with lots of snow or a little, but with most winters, it will still follow a pattern that is familiar, one where we know what to expect and prepare for. Other changes don’t have regular rhythms and require us to make adjustments to our lives, to learn new skills, to let go of old patterns and rhythms.

Sermon for the Reign of Christ Sunday: Listening to His Voice

 John 18:33-38a
Listening to His Voice
James Sledge                                                   November 21, 2021, Reign of Christ

    When John’s gospel tells the story of Jesus’ trial, Pilate is something of a comic but tragic figure. I say Jesus’ trial, but in John’s gospel, it is actually Pilate who is on trial. We hear only a small portion of the trial in our scripture this morning, but if we had read the entire account, we would have seen Pilate scurrying back and forth between Jesus inside the headquarters and the Jewish leadership gathered outside. For all his apparent power, Pilate is buffeted about, and the situation seems to be totally out of his control.

When Pilate asks Jesus if he is the King of the Jews, Jesus responds with a question of his own. “Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?” It is a straightforward enough question, but Pilate seems uninterested in answering and changes the subject. To answer would be to engage in the truth, and Pilate has little interest in truth.

For his part, Jesus has just invited Pilate to step into the light of truth, just as Jesus has done with others before. If Pilate would engage Jesus, truly respond to him, there is hope, but Pilate shuts the discussion down before it can ever begin. The truth frightens Pilate.

Pilate has lots of company. Many people fear the truth. Politicians come to mind. They worry about losing the next election and that makes for an uneasy relationship with the truth. You almost never hear a politician say they were wrong or made a mistake. That is a truth most dare not speak.

Sermon video from Nov. 21, the Reign of Christ: Listening to His Voice

 

Audios and videos of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

Sermon video: Gratitude and Doxology

 Audios and videos of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

Sermon: Gratitude and Doxology

 1 Timothy 1:12-17
Gratitude and Doxology
James Sledge                                                                            November 14, 2021

The Conversion of St. Paul
Bartolome Esteban Murillo, ca. 1675

At a recent staff meeting, I read a meditation by Howard Thurman as a part of our devotional time. The meditation began by speaking of a longing, an urgent seeking and searching for God. But then the meditation took a turn.

With sustained excitement, I recall what, in my own urgency, I had forgotten: God is seeking me. Blessed remembrance! God is seeking me. Wonderful assurance. God is seeking me. This is the meaning of my longing, this is the warp of my desiring, this is my point. The searching that keeps the sand hot under my feet is but my response to (God’s) seeking. Therefore, this moment, I will be still, I will quiet my reaching out, I will abide; for to know really that God is seeking me; to be aware of that NOW is to be found of (God).[1]

I had no real plans for what to do with this reading, and when I finished it, I simply sat in silence for a moment. Then a thought hit me. “When,” I asked, “have you experienced God seeking you?” No one on our Zoom meeting unmuted. It was completely quiet.

I also struggled with something to say, which I found more than a little disturbing. How could I not bring to mind some experience of God moving toward me, God reaching out to me? I had a brief, existential faith crisis. Was God not real to me? That’s certainly a possibility. I know a lot about God, about Jesus, but perhaps I don’t really know God. Or perhaps my god is the one disturbingly described by Anglican scholar N. T. Wright.

For most people in the Western world today, the word ‘god’ refers to a distant, remote being… This god may or may not intervene from time to time in the world, though he usually doesn’t. He has, in fact, left us to muddle through as best we can; which usually means looking after our own interests, carving up the world, and perhaps each other, in our own way. The cat’s asleep upstairs, and the mice — and perhaps the rats — are organizing the world downstairs.

That’s why this remote ‘god’ is the god that the Western world decided it wanted in the eighteenth century: a god to be cooly acknowledged for an hour or so on Sunday mornings, and ignored for the other hundred and sixty-seven hours in the week. No wonder, when they did a survey not long ago, the great majority of people in the United Kingdom said they believed in ‘god’, but only a small minority regularly go to church. If that’s what you believe about ‘god’ …then any sense of worship or religious celebration becomes a vague ritual, a meaningless noise, which merely makes us feel a bit better about ourselves… Can such a god really be God?[2]

The god N. T. Wright describes sounds little like the one the Apostle Paul knew. This God had appointed him for service, had showed him mercy through the love of Jesus, embraced him despite his having persecuted the church. The grace and mercy of God, the call of Jesus are so vivid for Paul that he not only overflows with gratitude, but he cannot help but burst forth in doxology. To the king of the ages, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory forever and ever. Amen.

Sermon video: Gratitude, Trust, and Generosity

 

All the tech people were at our congregation's weekend retreat. Hence the single, static camera angle.

Audios and videos of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

Sermon: Gratitude, Trust, and Generosity

 Mark 12:38-44
Gratitude, Trust, and Generosity
James Sledge                                                                                     November 7, 2021

The Widow's Mite
JESUS MAFA, 1973

    I googled the term “gratitude journal” the other day, and the number of entries was astounding. There was a seemingly endless collection of articles about how to start a gratitude journal, reviews of the best gratitude journals to purchase, reviews of the best gratitude apps, along with articles on some of the research around these journals. And of course, there were ads for hundreds of different gratitude journals.

If you’ve somehow totally missed this phenomenon, the premise is fairly simple. At its most basic, it involves the regular writing down of things you are grateful for. The various journals and apps provide some structure intended to help and guide you.

You might think this simply one more wellness fad, but there is a growing body of evidence that such journaling is good for your health. Studies have found that giving thanks and counting blessings can help people sleep better, lower stress, and improve interpersonal relationships. Another study found that keeping a gratitude journal decreased materialism and bolstered generosity among adolescents. In yet another study, high school students who kept gratitude journals reported healthier eating, and there’s some evidence suggesting it could lower your risk of heart disease and reduce the symptoms of depression in some.[1]

The studies also suggest that it doesn’t work for everyone and that it’s no panacea, but still, the benefits are impressive. Yet gratitude is hardly a new concept. I’ve mentioned before that John Calvin saw gratitude as the basic motivation for the Christian life. So why does this seem like a new discovery to so many?

It may sound odd, but I started thinking about gratitude when I read our scripture where Jesus denounces the scribes and praises a poor widow. The scribes and the widow represent polar opposites in first century Jerusalem. The scribes were learned, professional men of high esteem, “doctors of the law.” There isn’t really anything quite like them in our world, but Jesus’ description of them reminds me of some businesspeople or politicians in our day. They like to wear fine clothes and be greeted with respect in the public square. They make sure to have the best seats at all the fancy shindigs, and they devour widows’ houses.

Sermon video: Well Ordered Lives and Loves

 

Audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

Sermon: Well-Ordered Lives and Loves

 Mark 12:28-34
Well Ordered Lives and Loves
James Sledge                                                                            October 31, 2021

Love for One's Neighbor, detail from a choir screen,
National Museum of Scotland

 “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength… You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”

Jesus draws these words from what he called scripture and what we call the Old Testament. They are likely familiar to you. The love your neighbor part appears regularly in totally secular contexts. But familiarity is very different from understanding. What, exactly, does it mean to love God with heart, soul, mind, and strength? For that matter, what does it mean to love your neighbor as yourself? How are we to define and measure such love?

I recently read an interesting and helpful little book entitled Liturgy of the Ordinary. It’s by Tish Harrison Warren, an Anglican priest whose columns on faith appear regularly in The New York Times. The book has chapters on waking, making the bed, brushing teeth, sitting in traffic, and ends with one on sleeping. I’d like to read you something from that last chapter.

Our sleep habits both reveal and shape our loves. A decent indicator of what we love is that for which we willingly give up sleep. I love my kids, so I sacrifice sleep for them (often)—I nurse our baby or comfort our eldest after a nightmare. I love my husband and my close friends so I stay up late to keep a good conversation going a bit longer. Or I rise early to pray or to take a friend to the airport. But my willingness to sacrifice sleep also reveals less noble loves. I stay up later than I should, drowsy, collapsed on the couch, vaguely surfing the Internet, watching cute puppy videos. Or I stay up trying to squeeze more activity into the day, to pack it with as much productivity as possible. My disordered sleep reveals a disordered love, idols of entertainment or productivity…

The truth is, I’m far more likely to give up sleep for entertainment than I am for prayer. When I turn on Hulu late at night I don’t consciously think, “I value this episode of Parks and Rec more than my family, prayer, and my own body.” But my habits reveal and shape what I love and what I value, whether I care to admit it or not.[1]

Who knew that your sleep patterns could reveal so much about you, about how well ordered or disordered your loves and your life may be, about the idols in which you place your trust. So what do your sleep patterns say about you?

Sermon video: Sight for the Blind

 

Audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

Sermon: Sight for the Blind

 Mark 10:46-52
Sight for the Blind
James Sledge                                                                            October 24, 2021

Christ Giving Sight to Bartimaeus
William Blake, 1799

I’ve shared before something that happened at the church I previously served, an event that is seared into my memory. It happened one Sunday as I was preaching from the pulpit, and I saw it only because of the peculiar architecture of the sanctuary.

The back wall of that sanctuary had windows that covered its entire width. The choir and I could look through them into the narthex. There were entry doors from outside on either side of the narthex, but they were beyond the view through those windows.

In this church the ushers had a habit of remaining in the narthex, or the parlor just beyond it, during the worship service. The choir and I could see them milling around, going to get a cup of coffee from the parlor kitchen, and so on. And so there was an usher in the narthex when a rather disheveled man entered.

The man was Black, making him a minority of one, unless the immigrant family from Cameroon that we sponsored was there that day. He might well have been homeless, although I don’t know that, and I assumed that he had entered our church building looking for some assistance.

One of the ushers moved quickly to intercept him. I could see them talking but hear nothing. They conversed for a short while, and then the usher ushered him out of my sight toward the door he must have just entered. From what I could tell, he left willingly but, I presume, unhappily.

It was easy to ascertain what I had just witnessed. The man had come to the church seeking some assistance and likely had asked for the pastor. The usher had then explained that I was in the middle of worship. I was busy and he would need to come back later. I never saw the man again.

Something similar happens in our scripture. In this case it’s a blind man who wants help, but Jesus is busy. Jerusalem is just over the horizon. He’s likely got some final instructions he needs to give his disciples, and time is short. No time to deal with one more desperate person seeking help.