Sermon video: Insiders on the Outside

 

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

Sermon: Insiders on the Outside

 Mark 3:19b-35
Insiders on the Outside
James Sledge                                                                                      June 6, 2021

Jesus and His Apostles,
from the Russian Siysky Gospel, 1340

 As a general rule, I don’t think most people appreciate the sophistication of the biblical writers. Take the gospels for instance. Many Christians, both the conservative and more liberal, think of the four gospels as simple, straightforward accounts of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. They simply tell what happened, or what the writer believes happened.

But none of the gospels were written to tell people the story of Jesus. They were written for congregations who already knew that story well. The gospel writers were trying to help their congregations understand the story and how it impacted their lives and their situation, and so they retold the story of Jesus in particular ways they thought addressed concerns and issues in those congregations.

Mark’s gospel is the first one written, and it seems to address a non-Jewish audience outside of Palestine. Mark’s gospel employs an interesting technique to help his readers understand Jesus and the nature of Christian discipleship. The writer frequently places one story into the middle of another so that the two stories “talk to one another,” hopefully providing the readers a fuller understanding of both stories.

Our reading this morning has one of these bracketed or sandwiched stories. Both stories take place in the same setting, at home or, more literally, in a house. This word for house is used to speak of God’s house along with God’s household. And so it can refer to the Church.

Jesus and his disciples have come into the house for a break because his fame has started to spread, and crowds gather around him wherever he goes. But the house provides little respite. The crowds gather once more, creating such a ruckus that Jesus and his friends cannot even eat in peace.

Somehow Jesus’ family gets wind of the situation and decide that he needs to be restrained. Apparently they think Jesus has taken leave of his senses. Our scripture reading says “people were saying,” that Jesus was crazy, but that seems an unfortunate translation. There is no word “people” in the original Greek. It simply says, When his family heard it, they went out to restrain him, for they were saying, “He has gone out of his mind.” “They” could speak of “people,” but it seems more likely to mean “the family.”

Sermon: What Is Truth?

 John 15:26-27, 16:4b-15
What Is Truth?
James Sledge                                                                                     May 23, 2021

Adam Kossowski,  

Veni Sancti Spiritus, mosaic ca. 1965

from Art in the Christian Tradition, 

a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library

 When I was a small child, I used to watch a black and white television show entitled the Adventures of Superman. As you might imagine, the special effects were pretty awful, but in the early 1960s we didn’t know any better. The show opened with the image of a pistol firing and an announcer’s overly dramatic voice saying, “Faster that a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound…” The announcer continued, giving a thumbnail sketch of Superman and his alter ego, mild-mannered reporter Clark Kent. Then the intro concluded with Superman standing before a waving American flag as we heard that he “fights a never-ending battle for truth, justice, and the American way.”

The Adventures of Superman was created at the height of the Cold War when anti-communist fervor was high. Truth, justice, and the American way contrasted with the Soviet Union where the media were state controlled and a mouthpiece for government propaganda. Many Americans were proud of the fact that our news outlets were independent from the government, and the national media were largely viewed as impartial and reliable.

Things have really changed. Justice has always been an elusive if noble goal, but truth was once seen as clear and obvious. Now we have anti-vaxxers who insist that shots are dangerous with horrific side effects despite no scientific data to support such views. We have climate deniers who scoff at the nearly universal scientific consensus on human caused climate change. And we have the so-called “Big Lie” which claims, again without any evidence, that the recent presidential election was stolen.

 Not that playing fast and loose with the truth is actually new. The phrase, “My mind is made up. Don’t confuse me with the facts,” dates back at least to the 1950s. And the Presbyterian Church’s “Brief Statement of Faith,” written in the 1980s, says this of the human creature. “But we rebel against God; we hide from our Creator. Ignoring God’s commandments, we violate the image of God in others and ourselves, accept lies as truth, exploit neighbor and nature, and threaten death to the planet entrusted to our care.”

Accept lies as truth… If this statement is correct, then all of us at times prefer lies to the truth. Maybe we don’t deny certain scientific facts. Perhaps we would never insist that two plus two equals five. But none of us has a pure and objective view of things, and sometimes we simply see things as we want them to be.

The gospel of John seems to be especially concerned with truth. The word occurs twenty-five times in John compared to a single occurrence in Matthew’s gospel. In John, Jesus says, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” When Jesus is on trial before Pilate he says, “For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” And the final appearance of the word in John’s gospel is Pilate’s response to Jesus, the unanswered question, “What is truth?”

What is truth? That seems a fairly important question for understanding John’s gospel, for understanding our scripture reading this morning where Jesus says, “When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth.” And I’m reasonably certain that Jesus isn’t talking about the two plus two equals four sort of truth.

I think Jesus is talking about the true shape of reality, what it is that makes for a good, full, meaningful, abundant life, what it means to be fully human. For instance, I once saw a bumper sticker that said, “The one who dies with the most toys wins.” Is that true? A lot of us live like we think it might be. We want more and more and more. We hope that more will satisfy us, make us happy, content. But then there is always another more to need or want.

Sermon video: Whose Are You?

 

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

Sermon: Whose Are You?

 Whose Are You?
John 17:6-19
James Sledge                                                                                                 May 16, 2021

The Heidelberg Catechism Banner

 I grew up outside of Charlotte, NC, on land once owned by my great-great grandmother and grandfather. It was still out in the country, though the suburbs were getting closer and closer. In high school, I had a summer job with a landscaping company. We had several tractors, and one day I took a tractor tire that needed repairing over to Bonsal’s Tire.

I pulled up in the parking lot of this ancient garage, dragged the tire from the bed of a beat up El Camino, and rolled it toward one of the two open garage doors where a couple of elderly gentlemen were sitting in chairs. I did not recognize either of them, but one looked at me and said, “You must be Hartwell’s grandkid.”

Now it so happens that my father, grandfather, and great-grandfather were all named Hartwell, but only my great-grandfather went by that name. And so I answered the gentleman saying, “I believe I’m his great-grandson,” and the ensuing conversation confirmed that this was indeed the case.

Growing up in the vestiges of the rural south, who your daddy or granddaddy was, was important. More often than not, an introduction was likely to include something of your lineage.  “This is James, Ken Sledge’s son, Dick’s grandson. Such identifications were, for me, usually beneficial. My family had been in the area for generations and was reasonably well respected That meant I was assumed to be respectable myself unless I did something to prove otherwise. Had I been from a different family, I might have been assumed no-good unless I worked hard to convince people differently.

It’s a notion that is fading away in our culture, the notion that the family you belong to says something about who you are. People don’t stay in one place as much as they once did, and we live in an increasingly individualist culture. We don’t want to be identified by who we belong to. We want to be our own person, to make our own mark.

May 9 sermon video: As I Have Loved You

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

May 2 sermon video: On Being the Beloved Community

 

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

Sermon: As I Have Loved You

 John 15:9-17
As I Have Loved You
James Sledge                                                                                      May 9, 2021

 In the Holocaust Museum not too far from here, there is a heart wrenching letter written by Vilma Grunwald to her husband, Kurt. They were Czechoslovakian Jews who, along with their two sons, we held in the infamous Auschwitz death camp. Kurt was a doctor, and the Nazis used him to care for the prisoners forced to do factory work which meant that he was held in a separate part of the camp from his family.

Like so many others, Vilma and her two boys, John and Misa, were paraded in front of the notorious SS doctor Josef Mengele as he decided who would be gassed. John, the older son, had a congenital condition that left him with a pronounced limp, and so he was put in the group marked for death.

Vilma could not bear to see her son taken to the gas chambers alone, and so added herself to his group. The evening before they were taken to the gas chambers, she managed to write a short note. She gave it to a sympathetic guard and asked him to deliver it to her husband. Amazingly, he did so. This is the note.

You, my only one, dearest, in isolation we are waiting for darkness. We considered the possibility of hiding but decided not to do it since we felt it would be hopeless. The famous trucks are already here and we are waiting for it to begin. I am completely calm. You — my only and dearest one, do not blame yourself for what happened, it was our destiny. We did what we could. Stay healthy and remember my words that time will heal — if not completely — then — at least partially. Take care of the little golden boy and don’t spoil him too much with your love. Both of you — stay healthy, my dear ones. I will be thinking of you and Misa. Have a fabulous life, we must board the trucks.

 Into eternity, Vilma.[1]

This short letter displays both the human capacity for the vilest of evils along with the most remarkable, self-giving love. The horrors of Auschwitz are almost beyond comprehension and a warning of what can happen whenever the other is demonized. But I think I can comprehend the love of a mother that could not let her child die alone.

Sermon: On Being the Beloved Community

 Acts 8:26-40
On Being the Beloved Community
James Sledge                                                                                                 May 2, 2021

Herbert Boeckl, Philip and the Ethiopian Eunuch

 In December of 1963, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. appeared at Western Michigan University
in Kalamazoo. He spoke and held a question-and-answer session with faculty and students where someone asked this question. “Don’t you feel that integration can only be started and realized in the Christian church, not in schools or by other means?”

Dr. King’s answer began with words that may be familiar to you. “We must face the fact that in America, the church is still the most segregated major institution in America. At 11:00 on Sunday morning when we stand and sing that Christ has no east or west, we stand at the most segregated hour in this nation. This is tragic. Nobody of honesty can overlook this.”[1]

That was nearly 60 years ago. In the meantime, America has become a much more integrated place. Much of corporate America has embraced diversity as an ideal to strive for. Some of you work in places that are a salad bowl of race, gender, sexuality, religion, and more. But Sunday morning stubbornly remains one of the most segregated places in our culture. Even among churches that are openly progressive or liberal, segregation stubbornly persists.

Tribalism in the human creature has deep, evolutionary roots. Early humans were able to survive only by living in groups that cooperated for protection and finding food. Such groups were likely based on kinship, and somewhere along the line, humans become genetically predisposed to seek comfort and safety with those who are like them.

Like fight or flight reflexes, tribalism was helpful, even necessary, for survival at one point in history. But such evolutionary adaptations work much less well in larger societies composed of different sorts of people. For our society to function well, these primitive tendencies need to be overcome. Yet even a church that holds a Silent Witness Against Racial Injustice every other Saturday stubbornly remains largely white.

Sermon video: Trusting the Shepherd

 

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

Sermon: Trusting the Shepherd

 John 10:11-18
Trusting the Shepherd
James Sledge                                                                                                 April 29, 2012

 When I was in seminary, I had the opportunity to take a three-week long trip to the Middle East and Greece. There were students from number of seminaries, and we spent a good deal of time on charter buses.

One day we were traveling through some rather hilly country in the West Bank of Israel, and I was sitting by the window seeing what there was to see. I looked down into a small valley below the bus, and I noticed a young, Palestinian boy who was maybe ten or twelve years old. He was walking along a little path and right behind him, in a single file line, were a handful of sheep. I watched him for as long as I could still see him as he descended into the valley, that line of sheep right behind. It looked a little like a teacher leading a single-file line of kindergarteners to the cafeteria.

I later learned that this was typical in the area. Often a family’s flock would number less than a dozen, and it was not unusual for a child to have charge of the flock. When they would head out from the house in the morning to find pasture, that child would call to the sheep, and they would follow along behind, knowing that their young shepherd would lead them to food.

“I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me.”

Many years ago, at the church I served in Ohio, we were holding the weekly staff meeting. As was our custom, we spent some time talking about the scripture reading for the coming Sunday, the same reading we heard today. When I finished reading the passage, our parish associate pastor said, “Sheep like to go their own way.”

Bob was a retired pastor who worked for us several hours a week, mostly helping with pastoral care. It turned out that when he had first started in ministry, he served a church in Montana, a congregation with a number of sheep farmers. They were the ones who had told him, “Sheep like to go their own way. They have to be watched carefully.”

“I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me.”

Sermon: Living as God's Children

 1 John 3:1-7
Living as God’s Children
James Sledge                                                                                      April 18, 2021

 In recent years, I have begun to wonder if the Church is any longer viable. I’m not talking about Falls Church Presbyterian in particular but about church in general. And I’m not talking about whether the institutional church can survive. I’m talking about whether the Church is in any way capable of living into its calling, of being what it is called to be by God.

A number of understandings lie behind my worries. I understand the Church to be the body of Christ, a community that is meant to show and be Christ in and for the world. It is to model the way of Jesus, in stark contrast to the typical ways of the world.

I understand the Church to be an alternative community that shapes and forms people in the way of Jesus, a way of love and self-giving that looks little like the individualistic consumerism of our age. It is to be an alternative community where people so experience the love of God that it transforms their lives.

I understand the Church to be a community that embodies the way of peace over violence, even when that is risky and costly. It is to be a community that would risk its own life in the cause of love and peace.

I understand the Church to be a community that embodies the life of God’s coming new day, a day when all divisions end, when the poor are lifted up as the rich and powerful are brought lower, a great leveling.

In short, I understand the Church to be a square peg in a world built for round ones, a community that holds fast to the way of Jesus even when that makes it hard, impossible perhaps, to fit in.

I also understand that the Church will live into its calling imperfectly because the ways of the world are familiar and comfortable and seductive. But it will keep being drawn back to its calling through the pull of God’s love and the guidance of the Spirit.

But I’m not at all sure these understandings describe church in 21^st century America. Rather than looking different from the world, church mirrors the world’s divisions. There are conservative churches and liberal churches, rich churches and poor churches, Black churches and white churches, contemporary churches and traditional churches, and on and on.

Sermon video: Living as God's Children

 

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

Sermon video: Resurrection Shaped Community

 

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

Sermon: Resurrection Shaped Community

 Acts 4:32-35
Resurrection Shaped Community
James Sledge                                                                                                  April 11, 2021

Now the whole group of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common… There was not a needy person among them, for as many as owned lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold.

That couldn’t actually happen, could it? I once heard a sermon where the preacher said that it never really happened. His proof didn’t come from any scriptural or historical research. His proof was that he had known a great many churches and it had never happened there, could never happen there, and so clearly, it never happened. He went somewhere with the sermon after that but I don’t remember that part.

Biblical scholars sometimes wonder if it were always quite so wonderful as the book of Acts would have us believe. They point to the book of Acts itself. Just a few verses from our passage, it tells of a couple, Ananias and Sapphira, who sold their property and claimed to give all the proceeds to the community but in fact kept some for themselves.

By the way, Ananias and Sapphira both fall dead as the result of their attempt to fool God and the community, but that’s a different sermon.

The biblical scholar’s answer to the question of whether the community described in Acts could have happened is a little more nuanced than that preacher I heard years ago. It might have partly happened, suggests the scholar, but it wasn’t quite so perfect as first reported.

What do you think? Could it have happened, even partly? Or does your experience with the human condition suggest even that would be impossible?

Easter sermon (in-person worship) Hoping in the Dark

 John 20:1-18
Hoping in the Dark
James Sledge                Resurrection of the Lord (in person worship)                 April 4, 2021

The Empty Tomb, He Qi © 2021 All rights reserved.

 It is so great to see you all, actually to gather together to celebrate Easter. And what a perfect setting, a bright blue sky while the sun warms the day. What a glorious Easter morning. I think we expect Easter to be bright and sunny, even more so if you head to an outdoor sunrise service, or when you gather in a parking lot.

But as much as we may associate Easter with the brightness of spring, the Easter story in the gospel of John takes place in the dark. Sunrise services are popular at Easter and some of you went to ours, but there is no mention of a sunrise in our scripture passage. It simply says that Mary came to the tomb while it was still dark.

While it was still dark… The darkness is literal, but in John’s gospel, the metaphor of darkness is never far off. I’ve become more hesitant in using such metaphors as I’ve realized more the depths of our society’s systemic racism, part of which is having dark always mean bad and light always mean good.

However, I’m not quite sure how to avoid such metaphors when working with John’s gospel. He contrasts dark and light so often. At least I can rest assured that there are no racial overtones in the gospel. The gospel writer lived in a time without electricity or streetlights. The literal darkness of night could be frightening, even dangerous.

When Mary heads to the tomb, it is literally dark, but there is also a sense of fear and danger. Her beloved Jesus had been executed by the Romans for sedition. She is distraught, confused, afraid, unsure what will happen next. The gospel writer’s while it was still dark reflects this, and it hangs over the entire story. There is no mention of daylight ever arriving.

Easter Sermon: Heaven's Representatives

 Mark 16:1-8
Heaven’s Representatives
James Sledge                        Resurrection of the Lord                           April 4, 2021

The Empty Tomb, He Qi © 2021 All rights reserved.

So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid. Someone needed to tell Mark, or whoever wrote the words we just heard, that this is a terrible way to end your gospel. They said nothing, because they were afraid? That’s the end?

New Testament scholars debate whether or not this is the original ending of Mark’s gospel. Some argue that the writer ended it this way to create a sense of urgency in his faith community about the need to share the good news. Others argue that the peculiar Greek grammar of the ending indicates that the original ending must have been lost at some point.

One thing most all scholars do agree on is that those words, for they were afraid, are the last words we have from the original gospel of Mark. Two additional endings were added at some point, typically labeled in Bibles as “The shorter ending of Mark” and “The longer ending of Mark.” Whoever wrote these endings, likely in the fourth and second centuries, clearly weren’t happy with for they were afraid as an ending .

But that is the ending of our reading for Easter morning and the only ending we have from the gospel writer’s pen. So what are we to do with such an unsatisfactory ending?

Sermon video: Not the Messiah We Wanted

 

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

Sermon: Not the Messiah We Wanted

 Mark 11:1-10, 15:1-15
Not the Messiah We Wanted
James Sledge                          Palm/Passion Sunday                         March 28, 2021

 

Even if you are not a basketball fan, it’s hard to miss that March Madness, the NCAA tournament is going on for both women and men. No doubt some of you are following the progress or lamenting the failure of a favorite team. Even with fans limited because of Covid, it must be an exciting time for the teams that get invited to the big dance. For many of the players, it will be their only opportunity ever to play on such a big stage.

But if the tournament is a moment of excitement for many, its arrival opens a season of painful waiting for some of the coaches whose teams failed to make the tournament. A few coaches have already been fired, and I’ve read articles debating which coaches are or aren’t on the hot seat.

Coaches at college basketball programs, along with coaches in many sports, pro and college, typically are announced with great fanfare. This is the one who will turn things around, restore the program to prominence, take the team to glory. But big-time sports won’t tolerate losing. The new coach heralded as savior won’t last long if the expected success doesn’t materialize.

_________________________________________________________________

On this day in the church year, we remember when Jesus was introduced to the city of Jerusalem, to the holy city of David. The parade for Jesus was in part a parody of the pomp that accompanied Roman rulers such as Pilate when they came into the city in their chariot, flanked by soldiers in glistening armor. But Jesus’ entry was also a grand affair in its own right. Here is the Messiah, the Savior!

People threw their cloaks onto the road along with leafy branches, recalling royal processions described in their scriptures, what we call the Old Testament. They shouted words from the Psalms. “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David! Hosanna in the highest heaven!” The one who would save Israel was entering into his capital city. Hosanna! indeed.

Except it seems that Jesus didn’t work out as expected. By Friday Jesus was on trial, and no one was shouting “Hosanna!” They were shouting, “Crucify him!” It’s not clear that these were the same people who shouted “Hosanna!” on Sunday, but the crowds had been so enthralled with Jesus earlier in the week that the authorities worried about an uproar if they arrested him. Now those crowds have turned against Jesus. They were done with this failed Messiah.

Sermon video: God's Chosen Vessel

 

Videos and audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website. 

Sermon: God's Chosen Vessel

 Jeremiah 31:31-34
God’s Chosen Vessel

James Sledge                                                                         Lent 5 – March 21, 2021

Jeremiah on the Ruins of Jerusalem

I don’t need to tell any of you what a long, difficult year it’s been. Some of us have been separated from family and friends for all that time. Schools have been closed leaving parents to oversee children’s virtual learning. Often, this responsibility has fallen more heavily on mothers, and a disproportionate number of women have had to put careers on hold during the pandemic.

Teachers have been stressed to the max. Figuring out virtual learning, then figuring out hybrid learning, all while worrying about students’ and their own safety.

For some people the loneliness of the pandemic has been overwhelming. Working from home, isolated from others, seeing people only via zoom; it’s all too much. For others, the constant togetherness of couples working at home, children always there, has put incredible stress on relationships.

Then came the murder of George Floyd and waves of protest around the country and the world. The need to reckon with the legacy of slavery, to address the white supremacist foundations of our nation and the white supremacy still woven into the structures of our society: our legal system, churches, educational system, neighborhoods, economy, and so on, pushed its way into our cultural consciousness.

Throw in a little partisan, political dysfunction, a presidential election filled with bizarre conspiracy theories, and an attempted insurrection, and it’s a wonder that our collective mental health isn’t worse than it is.

I’ve had the luxury of being able to go into the office for most of the pandemic, but the stresses of this last year have taken a toll on me, too. When I talk with colleagues, they speak of overwhelming tiredness that no amount of sleep can cure, and I’ve certainly experienced that. I often feel on the edge of burnout, and so I may not have been in the best frame of mind when I listened to the provocative keynote address by Lenny Duncan at the NEXT Church National Gathering, held virtually, of course.

The Rev. Duncan is a Black, Lutheran pastor and author of the book, Dear Church: A Love Letter from a Black Preacher to the Whitest Denomination in the US. Duncan doesn’t fit the mold of what many of us think of as a pastor He has been homeless and incarcerated, and his speech is peppered with profanities. But what he had to say was hard to ignore.

Sermon video: Loving God Back

 

Videos and audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

Sermon: Loving God Back

 John 3:14-21
Loving God Back
James Sledge                                                                          Lent 4 – March 14, 2021

It was a very long time ago, but I can still recall what for me were the terrors of dating. I was never very good at asking someone out on a date. I found it intimidating. I suppose I’m one of those folks who doesn’t handle rejection very well, and it was awful to contemplate being dismissed by someone I was attracted to.

And when I did start dating someone, and things seemed to be going pretty well, another terror eventually reared its head. At what point was it safe to express the depth of my feelings? I assume this is a fairly common experience as I’ve seen comics do standup routines about blurting out “I love you” only to be met with silence.

But should the person respond with an “I love you, too,” another potential crisis moment may yet lie ahead. At some point the topic of marriage might come up, and here again, the possibility of being the only one interested in that level of commitment is real.

It seems there are a number of crisis moments along the road of love. There are moments when the relationship could move forward, or it could begin to unravel. It all depends on how the other person responds when they hear, “Do you want to go to a movie,” or “I love you,” or “Would you marry me?” It all depends on whether or not that other person is able to return your love, to love you back.

Most people think of love as a good thing, even a wonderful thing, but there are frightening moments along the way, make or break moments.

I’m not sure it is all that different with God’s love. There is a moment when the depth of God’s love for us becomes apparent, and then we have to respond. God says, “I love you,” and then waits to see what we will do. It’s a crisis moment on the road of divine love.

I think that is what Jesus is talking about in our gospel reading this morning. Our verses are part of a much longer passage the begins when Nicodemus, a Pharisee, comes to see Jesus at night. Nicodemus is clearly impressed by Jesus, and he comes hoping to learn more. But he is also wary. Presumably he comes at night so he won’t be seen.

Nicodemus struggles to understand. When Jesus talks to him about the need to be “born from above,” Nicodemus takes Jesus literally and hears “born again.” Jesus’ attempts to further explain things make no headway, and the last thing we hear Nick say is “How can these things be?” After that, Nicodemus seems to disappear from the scene. In the verses just prior to our reading, Jesus shifts from speaking to “you” singular, instead addressing “you” plural. The gospel never reports Nicodemus’ departure, but by the time we hear Jesus’ words this morning, he is talking past Nicodemus to the readers of John’s gospel.

Our reading has one of the more famous lines from the gospel. “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but have eternal life.” John 3:16 gets written on posters and bumper stickers and featured in tattoos. One fellow became famous for wearing a rainbow wig and holding a sign the read, John 3:16.

It’s easy to see why this verse is a favorite. God loves the world so much that Jesus would come and even die to show the depth of that love. It’s also easy to see why no one ever holds up a sign that reads John 3:18, “…but those who do not believe are condemned already,” or John 3:19, “And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light…” Let’s just talk about how nice God’s love is, not how it produces a crisis.

Perhaps it will interest you to know that the Greek word translated “judgment” is kri/sij (krisis) the origin of our word crisis. It can also be translated “decision” or “choice,” and that is exactly what must be done when someone says, “I love you,” when God says “I love you.” You must decide if you are going to love the person back, if you are going to love God back.

When someone says, “I love you,” you must go one way or the other. If you return the love you move toward them. If you can’t or won’t love the person back, you push them away. The crisis that comes with “I love you,” doesn’t leave a lot of wiggle room. Even if you don’t respond at all, that is a response. You’ve given an answer.

I wonder if people intuitively realize this about God’s love and so look for ways to forestall the crisis. A lot of church folks work pretty hard at not getting serious with God. For some reason the whole religion thing feels comforting to them or they feel a certain pull toward faith, but they don’t dare let it go too far. They don’t want to get in too deep.

Perhaps that’s the case with Nicodemus whose nighttime visit to Jesus prompted the words that we heard this morning, words about the crisis of encountering the bright light of God’s love.

I wonder if Nicodemus even heard these words. I’ve always thought that when Jesus shifts from a singular you to a plural one that it’s just a literary device, a way the gospel writer lets the reader hear Jesus addressing them. But perhaps Nicodemus has already slipped away into the night and is no longer there. He’s put some distance between himself and Jesus before any moment of crisis can arise. But he’s made his decision. He came in the dark and he leaves in the dark. “And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light…”

That’s a little depressing. Nicodemus doesn’t go all in for Jesus when he meets him, and that’s it? He’s condemned already because he couldn’t do anything more than hang around the edges, couldn’t actually respond to God’s “I love you” in the right way? Then what about all of us who hang around the edges and avoid getting serious with God?

Nicodemus, who comes to Jesus in the dark and slinks away in the dark doesn’t ever come back for a second visit. He never sees Jesus again as far as we know. But this is not the last time Nick appears in John’s gospel. His final appearance is in broad daylight, when Jesus dies on the cross and Joseph of Arimathea comes to ask Pilate for the body. John’s gospel tells us, Nicodemus, who had at first come to Jesus by night, also came, bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, weighing almost a hundred pounds.

That’s an incredibly extravagant gift Nicodemus brings for Jesus’ funeral. Somewhere in the years between that confused, nighttime conversation and the cross, he must have come to that crisis point and decided to step into the light. Nick seemed to have been judged already, condemned already. He hid from the light. He couldn’t quite believe that Jesus was indeed God’s “I love you” to the world.

But God so loves the world, a world that often resists God. And if Nicodemus is any guide, God takes the long view of things. God’s “I love you” hovers over the world, over all creation, waiting for us to recognize it for what it is and respond. “I love you, too,” waiting for us to learn how to love God back.