Sermon video: In Their Shalom, You Will Find Yours

Audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

Sermon: In Their Shalom, You Will Find Yours

Jeremiah 29:1, 4-7

In Their Shalom, You Will Find Yours

James Sledge                                      October 13, 2019

Has the ground ever shifted under your feet, something you thought sure, permanent, certain, unchanging, suddenly failed you? For much of the 20^th century, American factory workers assumed there would always be good, high-paying manufacturing jobs with pensions for them and their children. But then factories began to close, and jobs began to dry up.

On a more personal level, someone you counted on, the one person you were certain would always be there for you, suddenly betrays you. It could be a spouse, a best friend, a child, a parent, but the trauma of such a betrayal can leave people unmoored and at a loss for what to do next.

American Christianity, or perhaps I should say, American churches have experienced the ground shake under them as well. It happened more gradually than a factory closing or a spouse leaving, but it has been no less devastating for many congregations.

When America sought a return to “normal” after World War II, church was assumed to be a big part of that normal. As suburbs exploded in the 1950s, denominations put scores of new churches in them. Mainline denominations like Presbyterians, Lutherans, Methodists, and Episcopalians used a formula that almost always worked. If we build it, they will come. People were “supposed” to go to church, and so the new neighborhood churches easily found new members while existing congregations built additions to handle all the people.

Those were heady times for Presbyterians and others. We enjoyed significant influence in the public square. Our seminaries were filled with bright young minds. Denominational headquarters swelled and expanded. “The Protestant Hour” was broadcast on over 600 radio stations nationwide, as well as on the Armed Forces Network.

I grew up assuming that you went to church on Sunday morning, unless you were Jewish. It was a fairly safe assumption in 1960s South Carolina. Nothing much else happened on Sunday morning. The stores and movie theaters were closed. The pool didn’t open until after lunch, and no youth sports team even thought about playing or practicing.

I suspect that many congregations assumed it would always be so. The suburbs would keep growing and so would the churches. We would keep building new churches, keep holding worship services, and the people would keep streaming in, encouraged by a culture that expected religious participation as a part of American citizenship.

But for many of you here today, such a world has never existed. You grew up with Sunday soccer leagues, walk-a-thons, 5Ks, and other community events. Almost no businesses closed on Sunday, and church was just one option in a plethora of them.

Sermon video - Meeting God in Scripture: Enough Faith

Audios of sermons and worship available on FCPC website.

Higher Loyalties

I recently had the honor of attending the promotion ceremony of a church member. (Congratulations, Colonel Balten!) At that ceremony, she once again took her military oath of office. I had heard it before, but I'm always struck when I do. Here it is.

I, [name], do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God.

I find it remarkable that our military officers swear to support and defend not their service branch, not their leaders, military or civilian, not even the nation itself, but rather the ideals on which the nation is built. They swear to defend freedom of speech, freedom of the press, the right to peaceably protest, and more from "all enemies, foreign and domestic." The oath demands a loyalty to higher principles, and as such, it is aspirational. I doubt anyone is able to keep it perfectly. At times it surely comes in conflict with climbing the career ladder, obeying an order, etc. I do suspect, however, that many in the military come closer to upholding their oath than do some others in the service of our country.

Members of Congress, the President, Supreme Court justices, and so on take oaths to defend the constitution. They all pledge a higher loyalty than party or political gain, but in these highly partisan times, this higher loyalty is often difficult to detect. On occasion, the good of the nation overrides partisan interests, but those occasions seem to be more and more rare.

Our current president has added a new wrinkle to this problem by seemingly conflating loyalty to the nation and its ideals with loyalty to him personally. Perhaps this is simply a natural progression in the move away from a loyalty to higher principles toward smaller and smaller loyalties. And the smallest loyalty of all is one to self alone.

America's emphasis on individual freedoms and rights may at times encourage this problem, although our founding documents attempt to strike a balance between the good of the individual and the good of the whole. It's not a new problem though. In a letter to his congregation in Corinth, the Apostle Paul addresses members there whose personal freedoms and rights seem unconcerned with the good of others.

The issue in Corinth is eating meat that has been sacrificed in pagan temples, something forbidden by the Scripture (which for Paul and the first Christians was what we call the Old Testament). This might seem a minor problem but most meat at the butcher shop had started out as a sacrifice somewhere. Buying meat for supper risked violating the Law unless one was very careful.

But Paul said that through Jesus, he had been freed from the Law, and some Corinthians decided they could eat meat without a second thought. But others were bothered by this. In Monday's daily lectionary passage from 1 Corinthians 10:14-11:1, Paul addresses this conflict, writing, " 'All things are lawful,' but not all things are beneficial. 'All things are lawful,' but not all things build up. Do not seek your own advantage, but that of the other."

For Paul, the exercise of freedom or rights that would harm another is inconceivable. For Paul, freedom does not mean he gets to do what ever he wants. Paul has been freed for a new life "in Christ," a life that is profoundly for others, a life guided by Christ-like love as its highest loyalty.

As with politics, this fealty to a higher principle - in this case a love for others - is too often absent from American Christianity. Faith is often viewed in highly individualistic terms, almost like a consumer commodity. Faith, spirituality, belief, is something undertaken for personal benefit. This may be divine blessings, the promise of heaven, a spiritual buzz, or some other good. In its worst manifestations, it becomes almost totally focused on one's personal salvation, spiritual fulfillment, peace of mind, heavenly reward, etc. with little concern for others beyond a very limited sphere.

The guarantee of personal freedoms and rights is one of the real strengths of the founding principles of our nation. But those freedoms and rights were never intended to be absolutes, and when they become objects of ultimate loyalty, they are what Scripture calls "idols." The problem of idols is not a mechanical one, a danger from certain sorts of statues or images. The problem is one of loyalties, and the very human tendency to misplace our loyalties. The problem is perhaps even more acute among religious sorts for we are endlessly able to enlist our gods and beliefs in our personal causes, at which point we have converted our god into an idol.

There's a well worn quote from writer Anne Lamott that is well attuned to this problem of idol making. "You can safely assume you've created God in your own image when it turns our God hates all the same people you do." In other words, is your god loyal to you, or are you loyal to the God we meet in Jesus?

You can find the Daily Lectionary here.

Sermon video: Vision Problems

Audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

Sermon: Meeting God in Scripture: Enough Faith

Luke 17:1-10

Meeting God in Scripture: Enough Faith

James Sledge                                                      October 6, 2019

Over the summer, I read a church-focused blog post on preaching entitled “Don’t Start with the Bible.”[1] It suggested bringing Scripture into a sermon only at the last possible moment, after raising some issue, examining ways the culture is responding, and identifying fruitful responses. Then and only then, connect the fruitful responses to Scripture.

The author is concerned that starting with Scripture invites folks to tune out the preacher because people don’t see the Bible as an authority. In fact, many view Scripture with suspicion, an antiquated religious book with little connection to their everyday lives.

I can’t argue with that, but still, I’m inclined not to follow the blog’s recommendation. Yes, there are difficulties. Some of you may view the Bible with a degree of skepticism, and I would never expect to win any argument with, “Well the Bible says so.” Yet in a time with so few cultural inducements or expectations to attend church or be Christian, surely most people who do show up are looking for something more than what they can find on their own. They are hoping to find meaning or purpose not found from culture, from work or hobbies or other experiences. They are hoping Church has something unique to offer.

The Bible would seem ready made for this, a huge collection of stories, poetry, imagery, regulations, teachings, letters, and more drawn from the various experiences of the faith community over the centuries. All of these explore, examine, and reflect on the encounters with and efforts to live in relationship to the mystery we call God.

Sermon: Vision Problems

Luke 16:19-31

Vision Problems

James Sledge                                                                           September 29, 2019

Early on during the sabbatical I took over the summer, I camped at Big Bend National Park, in west Texas, for several days. One afternoon, I decided to check out a hiking trail right by my campsite. As I walked along I came around a curve with a five-foot-high, rock, retaining wall. And there, stretched out on the rocks, was a rattlesnake.

He seemed oblivious to me. I got quite close to take some pictures, but he remained motionless. I was a little disappointed that he didn’t shake his rattle, but I didn’t want to provoke or bother him too much, so I went on my way.

As I continued on, I wondered about someone on the trail who was not paying much attention. How easy might it be to put a hand on that wall for support, right where my rattlesnake friend was sunning himself? And so I alerted any hikers I met along the way.

 Have you ever thought about the things we see and the things we miss? As a motorcyclist, I’m keenly aware of other motorcycles. I can scarcely recall a time when I was suddenly startled or surprised by the presence of a motorcycle I had not previously noticed.

Yet all too often, motorcyclists are injured or killed by a driver who never saw them. I’ve read of accidents where the driver says over and over to the police, “I never saw him. I never saw him.” For some people, motorcycles seem to be nearly invisible.

What things do you see or notice? What things do you miss? Are there things that are invisible to you?

Being poor can make someone nearly invisible. Or maybe that has it backwards. Perhaps it’s that having wealth can make one blind. Back when David Letterman was still hosting the Late Show on CBS, a prominent politician who’d grown up in a wealthy family was a guest. During a commercial break, a woman who worked for the show came out to go over something with Letterman. As she leaned over his desk, this politician reached out, grabbed the hem of her long sweater, and proceeded to clean his glasses with it. It was such an odd scene that Letterman showed a clip of it the next night.

I doubt there was any malice or ill intent by this politician. He simply did not see a person. He saw something he could use to clean his glasses. Perhaps this is why Jesus so often speaks of money as a curse rather than a blessing. It can cause such blindness.

Sermon video: Hard Truths

Audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

Sermon: Hard Truths

Jeremiah 8:18-9:1

Hard Truths

James Sledge                                                                  September 22, 2019

One would have to have been asleep for the last decade or so to be unaware of our nation’s epidemic of gun violence. While I was on sabbatical during July and August, I was often without internet or TV. Even so, I could not avoid reports on the carnage that took place during that brief time. In the span of barely more than a month, shootings in Gilroy, California, El Paso, Texas, Dayton, Ohio, and Odessa and Midland, Texas, left 44 people dead and 88 wounded.

The term “mass shooting” has no precise definition, but according to a Wikipedia article, there have been 297 mass shootings this year in America, killing 335 people and leaving 1219 more wounded. Seven occurred at a school or university and two in worship spaces, and I’m sure these statistics aren’t already out of date.

In, nearly 40,000 Americans died from gunshot wounds. About 24,000 of those were suicides, a number that is sickening all by itself. And of course that means that 16,000 people were killed by someone else. This last number alone amounts for more than forty people killed every single day.

Perhaps you are already familiar with these numbers, but I share them with you this morning to help explain why I reacted the way I did to our scripture reading. Before I ever did any of the things we preachers are supposed to do for writing a sermon – look at the original Greek or Hebrew, do word studies on important terms, consult various commentaries, and so on – I quickly glanced at the different passages listed for this Sunday. As I skimmed our passage from Jeremiah, I was suddenly caught up by the final verse. O that my head were a spring of water, and my eyes a fountain of tears, so that I might weep day and night for the slain of my poor people!

The slain of my poor people… Every night on the news, more people are added to the list. Of course the prophet Jeremiah is not talking about gun violence in America, but surely he would use the very same words if he were alive today.

Sermon video: Ready to Party

Audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

Sermon: Ready to Party

Luke 15:1-10

Ready to Party

James Sledge                                                                                       September 15, 2019

I suppose it is a nearly universal experience, wondering if you made the cut. Did I get the job? Did I make the team? Did I get into the sorority or fraternity? Did I get accepted into my top college? Did I get invited to the big party? I’m sure you can think of other examples.

This experience seems to be woven into the very fabric of nature. Evolution is driven by the “survival of the fittest.” And it is hard not to hear value judgements in terms such as “the fittest” or “successful predator.” They are the better species.

These sort of value judgments make their way into popular thought. People experiencing poverty or homelessness are often assumed to have failed in some way. They’ve not worked hard enough or failed to apply themselves. Their predicament is similar to not making the team, landing a good job, or getting into a good college. It is the result of some failure to be good enough, to try hard enough, to be smart enough, and so on.

Religion picks it up, too. The so-called Protestant work ethic grew from the idea that hard work which bore financial success was a sign of God’s favor. At the very least this implies that poverty is a sign of God’s disfavor.

Surely each of us is shaped in some way by living in a world where such ideas are so prevalent. How can we not feel that we have failed to measure up in some way when we don’t get that top job, get rejected by that college, or don’t make the requisite income?

And for reasons that are not entirely clear to me, the pressures to measure up, to get into a top school, climb the career ladder, be rich enough, pretty enough, and so on, seem to have intensified in recent decades. Such pressures feed worries and anxieties, driving everything from overscheduled kids to workers who don’t use their vacation time.

If you’re well versed in the teachings of Jesus, you might think that Christians wouldn’t buy into such thinking. But Christian faith gets practiced and lived out in human, religious institutions. And we humans are prone to think that God’s value judgments are not so different from ours.

And so religion too often looks like one more version of measuring up. Am I good enough? Do I believe the correct things? Have I done what is required for God to love me?

This takes many different forms. For some, believing that Jesus is their personal Lord and Savior guarantees them a ticket to heaven. For others, certain prayer or meditation practices must be learned well enough to provide the promised spiritual fulfillment. For still others, religion becomes a way to spiritualize the correct political beliefs, be they conservative or liberal.

Sabbatical Journal 12

I'm still on sabbatical, but I've been home for a while now, enough time that my trip feels a long time ago. I've not yet reentered the rhythms of the work world, but I have easily slid back into the the rhythms of modern life with all its luxuries and accoutrements. I have a comfortable bed, my own bathroom and shower just steps away, and endless channels and streaming choices on the television. I can check email, social media, or the news any time I want. I have food and drink of all sorts that I can pair with watching TV, and I will no doubt quickly regain the ten plus pounds that disappeared somewhere along the way on my trip.

As easily as I've fallen back into watching too much TV, eating too much, and checking my phone too much. A great deal of the time during my trip I had poor or no internet. I kept up with the news, but not like I do now. And I felt much less stressed. I watched almost no television, and I can't say that I missed it at all. Only rarely could I access social media, and that was just fine.

Sleeping in a tent with only battery powered light, I went to sleep soon after it got dark and got up soon after it got light. I ate less and slept more. My days seemed full and busy even though I had none of the entertainment and distractions that I do now. My sense of what I needed, of what was necessary, shifted dramatically. Granted, it lasted for less than two months, but I think there are long-term impacts.

Even though I have easily resumed old rhythms, there are wants, longings, and desires that so far have remained dormant. Like most Americans, I have been heavily indoctrinated into our consumer culture. But it seems to have a little less of a grip on me these days. I have no way of knowing how long this might last, but I am more content, more satisfied in some ways.

My experience runs counter to the American narrative that says happiness, contentment, fulfillment,  are achieved by acquiring more. But for me, the motorcycle sabbatical made clear how little of that more I actually needed. I don't mean to idealize the trip. There were elements of it that were completely unsustainable and ways in which it was made possible by the modern world we live in. Still, it seems to have rewired me on some level.

The church I serve has been doing a great deal of praying and seeking God's guidance for who and what we are called to be as a congregation.One element of this process was the development of what many would call a vision statement that says our church is called to "Gather those who fear they are not enough, so we may experience grace, wholeness, and renewal as God's beloved." That fear of not being enough was something that bubbled up in conversations with our members, and I think it reflects that American narrative about acquiring more. It is worry, anxiety about never quite getting there, whether "there" is understood in terms of money, accomplishment, influence, success, or something else.

Our congregation has felt a call to help people experience something different from that narrative about needing to acquire more. But exactly how does one experience grace, wholeness, and renewal as God's beloved? Most people cannot take a motorcycle sabbatical or some other such thing that might dramatically alter the typical rhythms of life.

During my sabbatical absence, the various ministry teams of our congregations have been grappling with just how we will invite ourselves and other into a new way of life as God's beloved. And I look forward to returning as we seek to put into practice God's call to gather those who fear they're not enough.