Sunday, April 22, 2018

Sermon: Hearing the Shepherd

John 10:11-18
Hearing the Shepherd
James Sledge                                                                                       April 22, 2018

Every now and then, someone from another congregation calls the church office to ask about leasing space for their worship service. Most of these requests have been immigrant faith communities who are just starting out or have outgrown the space they are renting.
Obviously there are logistical challenges to having two different congregations in one church building, and so when we get such a request our Worship Committee and our Building and Grounds Committee look at the particulars and make a recommendation to the Session. Clearly we’ve never managed to work out the details to everyone’s satisfaction during my time as pastor here as we’ve not had another congregation on site since the Episcopalians left nearly six years ago.
But assuming that we were able to work out the logistics and come up with a rental agreement that suits us and the other congregation, we would still have one more hurdle to clear. Any lease of our worship space requires the approval of National Capital Presbytery.
In our denomination, individual churches hold their property “in trust” for the denomination. It belongs to us only so long as we are operating a Presbyterian congregation here. If a church closes, the members can’t just sell the property and split the proceeds. That property goes to the denomination.
And so the denomination has a vested interest in making sure its congregations don’t take out risky loans, don’t end up with a lien on the property, or get into a lease that might tie the congregation’s hands at some point in the future.
Along with these mostly financial concerns, the presbytery also “reserves the right to disapprove a lease to any organization (including a church) if it or its parent body (1) actively disparages the Presbyterian Church (USA), (2) denies that the PC(USA) is a branch of the true church of Jesus Christ, and/or (3) engages in activities or promotes values that are antithetical to those of the PC(USA).”[1]
I wonder exactly what that last one means. Would we not rent space to a church that doesn’t ordain women? How about LGBT folk? Should we be concerned about where they stand on same sex marriage? What sort of values must they have to rent space here?
Such questions make me wonder about what makes a church truly a church? Where are the boundaries? What is it that gives a church its identity? If you moved to another city and were looking for a church, what would you want to know? What would put a church on your list to visit, and what would keep it off?
It turns out that it’s difficult, even impossible, to do church in a generic sort of way. If worship is going to be an important part of your church, you have to decide what that worship will look like, what sort of music to use, if you plan to use music. You must decide what sources of insight are most important. If there is a big theological controversy, what has the final say? We Presbyterians speak of scripture as the ultimate authority, but Catholics put church teachings on a par with scripture.
Because it’s so hard to be a generic church, because you pretty much have to be some particular kind of church, there are all sorts of modifiers people use to describe their church. I belong to a progressive church. I belong to an evangelical church. We’re a contemporary worship church. I go to a non-denominational mega-church. We do “high church.” And the list goes on and on.
 Amidst all these different sorts of church, it may be interesting to stop and think about what it is that most defines us. Is it that we are a church of Jesus Christ, or that we are progressive, liberal, evangelical and so on?

Sunday, April 15, 2018

Sermon: Enfleshed Faith

Luke 24:36b-49
Enfleshed Faith
James Sledge                                                                                       April 15, 2018

This is the third and final appearance of the risen Jesus in Luke’s gospel. He appeared to disciples on the road to Emmaus, though unrecognized until they stopped for the evening and Jesus took bread, blessed and broke it. These disciples hurry back to Jerusalem to tell the others. There they learn that Jesus had also appeared to Simon Peter. As they tell how Jesus was made known to them in the breaking of the bread, Jesus shows up one more time.
Even though Jesus appears for a third time, his followers still have trouble believing it. They fear it is a spirit, a ghost. And so Jesus says, “Touch me.” And he asks, “Have you anything here to eat?” prompting the disciples to give him a bit of fish. Jesus has some important things to say, but first he eats.
Something similar happens at the end of John’s gospel when the risen Jesus appears on the shore as some of the disciples are out in a boat, fishing. There will be an exchange between Jesus and Peter that seems to remove any taint from Peter’s denials on the night of Jesus’ arrest. But before the story can get to that, Jesus cooks some of the fish the disciples have caught, and they have a nice breakfast there on the shore. Jesus has important things to say, but first we eat.
Both Luke and John want to make clear the Jesus is not a wispy spirit, not a disembodied ghost. He is fully embodied, and he easts. This is the biblical notion of resurrection, a bodily thing, not a soul floating off to heaven but a walking, breathing, eating Jesus. In his letter to the church in Corinth, the Apostle Paul insists that humans will experience a bodily resurrection as well, at the end of the age. We’ll be different, he says, but we’ll have bodies.
In the same letter Paul writes, Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it. But in the centuries since Paul first wrote this, calling church the body of Christ has become so commonplace that we may not think much about what that means.
Bodies are pretty much essential to doing many of the things that make us human. We can touch someone, embrace them and cry with them when they are experiencing loss or trauma, because we have bodies. A parent can cradle an infant, speaking in reassuring tones, because we are embodied creatures. We can sit down with a friend for a meal or drinks because we have bodies. We can prepare food and feed people who are hungry at our Welcome Table ministry because we are embodied creatures.
When Jesus walked the earth, he touched people and healed them. He fed hungry crowds. He ate meals with people considered to be outcasts and “unclean.” He suffered and he died, all because he was God’s love embodied, God incarnate. And he calls us to continue that work of embodying God’s love.