Sermon video: More Than What We Know

Audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

Sermon video: Fauxpologies and Acknowledging the Truth

Audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

Sermon: More Than What We Know

John 6:35, 41-51

More Than What We Know

August 12, 2018                                                                                                         James Sledge

The bread of life; the bread that came down from heaven; the living bread that came down from heaven. If you’ve been around the church for much of your life, these sayings may not register as particularly problematic. But think about what odd statements they are. Jesus says he is bread, living bread at that, and bread that came down from heaven. It’s hardly surprising that “the Jews” complain about this.

(Jews, by the way, is a term used in John’s gospel to designate Jesus’ opponents and not all those who follow the traditions of Moses. Jesus and his disciples are Jews after all.)

I would think that many Jews who heard Jesus talk about bread that came down from heaven – and I include Jesus’ own followers here – would immediately have thought about the manna that the Israelites ate in the wilderness when Moses led them out of Egypt. That was truly bread that came down from heaven. And Jesus clearly wasn’t manna.

Then there is the whole “came down from heaven” thing. Unlike manna, Jesus wasn’t found out of the ground early in the morning. He showed up just like any of us did, born as a helpless little baby. Some listening to Jesus knew his family. They knew without a doubt that he had not come down from heaven.

Many of Jesus’ opponents were religious leaders, and they “knew” lots of things about scripture and God and how to be a good member of God’s chosen people. And along with obvious things such as knowing Jesus’ mom and dad, there were religious problems with what Jesus said. For Jews, and for early Christians, heaven was God’s home. People, living or dead, didn’t go there. To be from heaven was to be divine, and scripture clearly said that God was one. Jesus couldn’t be from heaven.

Sermon: Fauxpologies and Acknowledging the Truth

2 Samuel 11:26-12:13a

Fauxpologies and Acknowledging the Truth

James Sledge                                                                                       August 5, 2018

They have become so ubiquitous that they have their own article on Wikipedia. I’m talking about the non-apology apology, sometimes called the nonpology or fauxpology. Most of us have probably employed them at times. But what makes them infamous is their use by politicians and celebrities in attempts to quell some sort of PR nightmare.

The #MeToo movement has led to some terrible examples. Take this one from Charlie Rose. "It is essential that these women know I hear them and that I deeply apologize for my inappropriate behavior. I am greatly embarrassed. I have behaved insensitively at times, and I accept responsibility for that, though I do not believe that all of these allegations are accurate. I always felt that I was pursuing shared feelings, even though I now realize I was mistaken."

Why do such horrible non-apologies occur so often, especially from, media savvy politicians and celebrities who have PR people? Why do people try so hard, in such ridiculous and laughable fashion, to avoid responsibility? What is it about us humans that so hates to admit that we failed, that we hurt someone, that we were self-centered, thoughtless, and cruel? Why do we try so hard to avoid blame, even when it makes matters worse?

Martin Luther, the great Protestant reformer, said that when you find yourself before the judgment seat of God, plead your faults not your merits. Jesus once told a parable that made much the same point.  Two men go to the Temple to pray. One says he isn’t as bad as other folk, tries hard to follow the commandments, and gives lots of money to the church. But the other man is a tax collector, literally a criminal enterprise in Jesus’ day. He stood off in a corner, beating his breast and said, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” And Jesus says it is the tax collector who goes home right in God’s eyes. (Luke 18:9-14)

Sermon video: In Need of a Shepherd

Audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

Sermon video: Letting Jesus in the Boat

Audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

Sermon: Letting Jesus into the Boat

John 6:1-21

Letting Jesus in the Boat

James Sledge                                                                                       July 29, 2018

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. The word Lord doesn’t actually appear in the 23^rd psalm, but most English translations continue a Jewish practice that replaces the personal name of God with “Lord.” Many Bibles print it in all capitals to alert you to this.

Jesus said, "Make the people sit down." Now there was a great deal of grass in the place; so they sat down… Translated literally, Jesus said, “Make the people lie down,” and they lie down in the grass, in green pastures. Once I saw that, I couldn’t help but hear echoes of the 23^rd psalm. And those aren’t the only echoes here.

John’s gospel has no Last Supper, but here, at Passover, Jesus took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, he distributed them… Jesus also distributes fish which was often part of communion in the early church. The first readers of John’s gospel surely saw their own celebration of the Lord’s Supper reflected in this story.

Jesus says, “Gather up the fragments left over, so that nothing may be lost." When God had Moses feed the people of Israel with manna in the wilderness, no leftovers could be gathered. But here the leftover bread, manna, fills twelve baskets.

John’s gospel is quite different from the so-called synoptic gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke. Those three gospels present a very human looking Jesus, but John goes to great lengths to present Jesus as fully divine. Jesus is the Word, the logos of God. In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.

In John, Jesus, the Word made flesh, is the Good Shepherd, the bread of life, the resurrection and the life, God. But the crowd doesn’t get that. They think him a prophet and want to make him king, so Jesus withdraws to the mountain. The gospel doesn’t say how he manages this without the crowd following, but he is God in the flesh, after all.

Once they realize Jesus is gone, the crowd disperses and heads home, leaving only the disciples. As darkness approaches, they make their way to the boat and head for Capernaum, for home. Says the gospel, It was now dark, and Jesus had not yet come to them.

Does that strike you as at all odd? Jesus hasn’t come to them yet, hasn’t gotten there yet, but the disciples head out without him. What’s that about?

Sermon: In Need of a Shepherd

Mark 6:30-34, 53-56

In Need of a Shepherd

James Sledge                                                                                       July 22, 2018

They had no leisure even to eat. Some of you may know what it’s like for work to keep you so busy that you must eat at your desk. Perhaps your harried, over-scheduled life makes you grab something to eat on the way to school, practice, work, volunteering  or whatever.

Jesus’ disciples have just returned, exhausted from their first mission trip without Jesus, but the demands of the crowd are constant. "Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while," says Jesus. He is concerned about them. Humans are not designed to keep going all the time. They need Sabbath, rest, times of silence and stillness.

Jesus’ concern for his disciples causes him to shut down the ministry for a bit. Unfortunately, the planned retreat gets interrupted. The only alone time they get is in the boat. When they get to their destination, a crowd is already there. Jesus is concerned for his disciples, but he is concerned for crowd as well. They are lost and need help, like sheep without a shepherd to guide and protect them.

I wonder if they realize they are lost. Perhaps they are just curious about this strange new rabbi. Perhaps they are looking for healing for themselves or a friend or family member. Regardless, Jesus sees that they’re lost and feels pity, empathy, compassion for them.

Have you ever thought of God being moved by your plight, compassion welling up in the divine heart because you are harried, tired, hurting, or lost? Have you ever thought of God longing to give you rest, Sabbath, or desperately wanting to give guidance and protection?

Sermon video: Strange Priorities

Audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

Sermon video: Faith and Daring Speech

Audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

Sermon: Stange Priorities

Mark 5:21-43

Strange Priorities

James Sledge                                                                                                   July 1, 2018

Jairus was an important man, was well to do and influential. People cultivated friendships with him and took him out to expensive dinners. He rode in a black SUV, often accompanied by a security detail, and could always get a good table in the best restaurant.

Some of us know people like Jairus. All of us know who they are. When my wife and I recently flew to Austin, a well-known politician was on the flight. When we landed, all us regular passengers had to wait while she departed. I could look out my window and see the motorcade parked under the wing. Jairus got that sort of treatment.

The woman with hemorrhages was not important. Her name didn’t matter, and Mark doesn’t bother telling it to us. She was simply a nameless, faceless member of one of those groups typically precede by “the.” The poor, the sick, the uninsured, the homeless, the hungry, the foreigner, the prisoner.

We’re less likely to know such folks. We know of them, but not typically as individuals. They’re “that homeless guy who panhandles in such and such intersection” or “that woman with her stuff in the  shopping cart.” We don’t often cultivate friendships with such people. More often we avoid eye contact or move away from them. That’s what it was like for the unnamed woman in our gospel passage.

But this woman had even more problems. Not only had she been sucked dry and bankrupted by the health care system, but she also bore a horrible religious stigma. Her constant menstrual bleeding made her ritually unclean. She couldn’t enter the synagogue or attend public events. This had been going on for twelve years, so even if people didn’t know her name, they knew to avoid her.

Jairus and this woman live in completely different worlds. They could not be more different, but the gospel writer weaves together their stories. Jairus comes right up to Jesus. The great crowd is no barrier to him. People move out of his way as he heads toward Jesus. Jairus is used to being treated with honor and respect, but at this moment, he is a desperate man. His daughter is dying, but he’s heard about this rabbi who can heal, and so he bows before Jesus. He begs.

No one is surprised when Jesus goes with him, and the crowd parts and falls back in behind as Jairus, his security detail, and Jesus head to the house.

Not Partisan but Political

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.