Sermon: Getting Our Mojo Back

Mark 9:30-37

Getting Our Mojo Back

September 23, 2018                                                                                        James Sledge

I spent much of my childhood and youth in Charlotte, NC, back in the days when TV had a total of six or seven channels. Of these, the CBS affiliate dominated the local market and also owned the largest radio station. It had a number of high profile, charity events each year, but the one I recall the most vividly was an annual on air blood drive.

They advertised it heavily. Corporate sponsors provided food, refreshments, and gifts. Radio and TV personalities worked the event. CBS sent in stars from various shows, and all during the day they would have live broadcasts interviewing donors, talking about how easy is was, how almost painless it was.

The event was always a huge success with more than a thousand people donating blood. The Red Cross blood bank would be as full as it ever got, but this blood drive never seemed to convert many into regular donors. Year after year, most of those interviewed were first time donors, and year after year, it wasn’t long before the Red Cross was making pleas to the public about critically short blood supplies. The gifts, glitz, celebrities, and chance to be on TV drew in lots of people, but when it was all over, they went back to old patterns, ones that didn’t include giving blood.

A similar pattern showed up in the early Jesus movement. The gospels report huge crowds coming out to see this miracle working, charismatic, teacher-prophet-messiah. But by and large, the crowds saw the show, perhaps got a healing, and then went home to their old lives.

The early reflected this. It was a small movement, and you see that in the New Testament. In his letters, the Apostle Paul deals with questions about what parts of normal, civic participation are out of bounds for followers of Jesus, questions that arise because the Christians are a tiny minority. So too some of the gospels address communities struggling to remain faithful when doing so may get them ostracized from polite society.

We tend to think of the Bible as a public book, but the individual components of the New Testament – which didn’t really exist as we know it for a few hundred years after Jesus – were not understood that way. They were not used to spread the Christian message but to help existing Christian communities deal with issues that they faced. The books that would become the New Testament weren’t for the masses, but for the dedicated few.

It’s easy to see why the early Jesus movement tended to be small. While Jesus might have made a big splash and attracted a lot of gawkers, people hoping for a healing, or a political messiah to take on the Romans, many of Jesus’ teachings were not real crowd pleasers. The teachings we heard this morning are no exception.

Sermon video: Tribalism Meets God's Love and Grace

Audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

Sermon: Answering (and Living) the Jesus Question

Mark 8:27-38

Answering (and Living) the Jesus Question

James Sledge                                                                           September 16, 2018

The other day I stopped into the grocery store to grab a couple of items. As I looked for them, I happened down an aisle that was filled with Halloween candy and paraphernalia. I shouldn’t have  been surprised – it’s September after all, but I was. It was one of those sultry, ninety degree days, and it didn’t feel anything like fall.

But fall is almost here, which means the election is just around the corner. I’ve been something of a political junkie for much of my life, but I confess that I’ve grown tired of it. I don’t want to see all the political ads. I don’t want to see candidates who wrap themselves in a Christian mantle while spouting hatred and intolerance and outright racist ideas. I especially don’t want to watch another round of church leaders doing irreparable damage to the image of the faith by insisting that candidates who show not the tiniest inclination to follow the teachings of Jesus are somehow God’s candidate. Wake me when it’s over.

Of course then the Christmas shopping season will be almost upon us, complete with culture war skirmishes. Some of the same folks who touted God’s candidates will insist that we “put Christ back in Christmas,” and they’ll get angry if someone says “Happy Holidays.” Sigh… Wake me when it’s over.

It’s amazing all the ways that Jesus or Christ or God or Christian faith gets invoked to support all manner of things. There are churches that celebrate the Second Amendment in worship and encourage members to bring their guns. There are churches that loudly proclaim, “God Hates Fags.” There are churches that say Donald Trump is God’s man in the White House, and there are churches that stage protests against Donald Trump. There are churches that see same sex relationships as an abomination and sin, and there are churches that marry same sex couples. And all these churches, at least all that call themselves Christian, claim Christ in some way.

When people insist that we put Christ back in Christmas, which one do they mean? Is it the one who blesses same sex marriages? Is it the one who says to love your enemy and not to resist the one who strikes you? Or is it a different Christ? How many of them are there? Sometimes it seems that we Christians have been given the answer to the question, but we’re not at all sure what that answer means.

Sermon: Tribalism Meets God's Love and Grace

Mark 7:24-37

Tribalism Meets God’s Love and Grace

James Sledge                                                                                       September 9, 2018

A great deal has been written and discussed of late on how tribal we’ve become in America. I read something the other day following the death of John McCain that said although Senator McCain was widely admired, he had become something of a political pariah in his home state of Arizona. All three Republican candidates in the recent Arizona senate primary either distanced themselves from McCain or outright disparaged him.

McCain’s hostility to President Trump is certainly one reason for this, but tribalism is involved as well. Tribalism draws very clear us and them boundaries and tends to view “them” as the enemy. Someone like McCain, who would work with members of the other party and even work against his own party when his principles required it, looks very suspicious to those who view the world from a tribal perspective.

We humans seem to have an innate tendency towards tribalism. We may not be born racists or homophobes or sexists or elitists or any other sort of ists, but we seek comfort and security and purpose by coalescing into groups with others who are like us in some way. It starts at a very young age. School children often form cliques that can be hostile and cruel to those who don’t fit into their group.

This is not a recent phenomenon. In Jesus’ day there were numerous divisions and groups. The Pharisees were a reform movement centered on synagogue and following scripture, opposed to what they saw as the corrupt, priestly Judaism of the Jerusalem Temple. The Essenes withdraw entirely into their own, separatist community in reaction to perceived Temple corruption and a world too accommodating to Greco-Roman culture. Then there was the Jewish – Gentile divide, the biggest tribal division of Jesus’ day.

These divisions are different than those of our day, and some may strike us as odd. But they functioned much the same as the divisions we hardly notice. We gather here for worship each week and frequently hear Paul’s words that say, There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all are one in Christ Jesus. But we hardly represent the diversity and inclusiveness these words suggest. We’re not a representative sampling of America or even our immediate community. We’re whiter, wealthier, more liberal, more likely to be cultural elitists, and so on.

Sermon video: Stained by the World

Audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

Sermon: Stained by the World

James 1:17-27

Stained by the World

James Sledge                                                                                                   September 2, 2018

There was an article in The Washington Post recently entitled, “Are rich people more likely to lie, cheat, steal? Science explains the world of Manafort and Gates.”[1] If you followed Paul Manafort’s recent trial, you know about the $15,000 ostrich and python jackets, the exorbitant lifestyle and the lengths he was willing to go to maintain that lifestyle.

And of course Manafort is but one example in a litany of cases involving insider trading, misuse of campaign contributions, and so on. According to the Post article, a growing body of scientific evidence finds that wealth, power, and privilege “makes you feel like you’re above the law… allows you to treat others like they don’t exist.”

Among the scientific studies was one where researchers watched four-way stop intersections. Expensive cars were significantly less likely to wait their turn than older and cheaper cars. The same researchers sent pedestrians into crosswalks and observed which cars obeyed the law and stopped when someone was in the crosswalk. Every single one of the older, cheaper cars stopped, but only half of the expensive cars did.

Drawing on many different research studies the Post article said, “That research has shown the rich cheat more on their taxes. They cheat more on their romantic partners. The wealthy and better-educated are more likely to shoplift. They are more likely to cheat at games of chance. They are often less empathetic. In studies of charitable giving, it is often the lower-income households that donate higher proportions of their income than middle-class and many upper-income folk.”

This sort of research is relatively new, and so there is a lot it cannot say about why or how this all works. But the evidence is pretty compelling that being wealthy and/or powerful has a tendency to make you an awful person. And perhaps that’s exactly the sort of thing our scripture is worried about when it to keep oneself unstained by the world.

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.

Sermon: Faith and Daring Speech

Mark 4:35-41

Faith and Daring Speech

James Sledge                                                                                       June 24, 2008

I imagine that many of you have heard some version of this story before. Matthew, Mark, and Luke all tell of Jesus stilling the storm. I’m partial to Mark’s version. Somewhat atypically for the shortest gospel, Mark has the longest and fullest depiction.

Jesus directs the disciples to cross the Sea of Galilee at night, not necessarily a great idea. But the disciples do as Jesus says, apparently without question or objection. But out on the water, in the dark, a terrific storm arises. It whips up waves that begin to break over the sides of the boat. The disciples are no doubt bailing water out as fast as they can, but it is a losing battle. The boat is being swamped.

Meanwhile, Jesus is asleep. He has been teaching and healing at a breakneck pace, and the crowds won’t leave him alone. Perhaps he is so exhausted that he could sleep through anything. But as the situation grows more and more dire, the disciples wake him up.

I don’t know if they expect Jesus to do anything or not. Maybe they just feel like he should be worried and frightened, too. They are all about to drown, after all. But Jesus rebukes the wind and tells the sea to quiet down, and all is calm.

Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble, and he brought them out from their distress; he made the storm be still, and the waves of the sea were hushed. That’s from Psalm 107, and it’s speaking about God.

“Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?” the disciples ask, as they quake in awe and fear. 

______________________________________________________________________________

The story of Jesus stilling the storm shows up every three years in the lectionary, paired with the story of David and Goliath. Typically I’ve seen it focusing on two things. One is Jesus’ identity, and the other is faith. Here faith is about more than believing in God or Jesus. It is about trusting in the power of God to save, the sort of trust that allows the boy David to face the mighty warrior Goliath with only his sling.

But for some reason that didn’t quite work for me this time, at least not the faith part. Jesus accuses the disciples of having no faith. But they have turned to Jesus in their distress. They cried out to the Lord in their trouble, and he brought them out…” to quote the psalm. Does being afraid mean having no faith? That’s troubling. I’ve got fears a plenty.

If the disciples had come to Jesus cool as cucumbers and said, “Hey Jesus, would you mind fixing this?” would Jesus had done the same miracle but not chastised them about their faith? Or is the faith problem about something else.

______________________________________________________________________________

Statement from the Session of Falls Church Presbyterian

In light of US immigration officials separating children from parents, and the US Attorney General's appeal to Scripture to support this, this congregation's Session (discernment/governing council) publicly declares the following:

The Falls Church Presbyterian Church (FCPC) rejects the claim that the Christian faith or the Bible excuses or condones government policies that forcibly separate children and their parents, or otherwise dehumanize refugees and immigrants. We reject any practice, policy, or law that denies God's beloved children their dignity. We oppose all attempts by the powerful to justify oppression or mistreatment of the powerless. We follow Jesus, who teaches that faithfulness is better measured by the loving care we provide to strangers, foreigners, and prisoners than by public proclamations of piety--and so we at FCPC rededicate ourselves to ways we can provide direct support and care to those in need.

Sermon video: Crazy Like Jesus

Audios of sermon and worship available on the FCPC website.

Sermon video: Jesus and New Coke

Audios and sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

Sermon: Crazy Like Jesus

Mark 3:19b-35

Crazy Like Jesus

James Sledge                                                                                       June 10, 2018

I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that most of you don’t spend a lot of time worrying about Satan or the power of demons. In fact, many progressive Christians, including pastors such as myself, are a little unnerved, even embarrassed, by biblical talk of Satan and demonic possession. Clearly this comes from ancient peoples who weren’t sophisticated enough to understand things like mental illness or epilepsy.

But sometimes I wonder if our “sophistication” isn’t actually an arrogance that does not serve us well. We sometimes imagine that there’s no evil, only problems to be solved. At some point progress and advancement will inexorably lead to a better and better world.

At the dawn of the 20^th century, many believed progress would soon do away with war in a unified Christian earth, only to witness one world war followed shortly by another. Imagine the despair of those who thought humanity was about to achieve world peace but instead saw millions and millions slaughtered in battle, killed by bombs raining down on civilian populations, and exterminated in the Holocaust.

Mainline and progressive Christians often fall captive to despair these days. I know I do. Granted we do not face world war or Holocaust, but things we hoped for and counted on have failed us. Our heralded democracy seems to have welcomed racism, xenophobia, hatred, and outright lying as accepted parts of the process. Christianity itself is too often a tool of hatred, bigotry, and the acquisition of power at any cost.

I wonder if we sophisticated moderns don’t need to take the problem of evil more seriously, even if we do not personify it. How else to explain school children slaughtering classmates with easily obtained weapons of war? Or followers of Jesus cheering war, spewing hate for those different from them, embracing lies, immorality, and disdain for the least of these, in the pursuit of power?

How else to explain many of us swallowing consumerism’s big lie that if we only acquire enough, if we only get more, we’ll be truly happy? How else to explain turning childhood into a high-stress, cut-throat competition where children must outduel others to get ahead, and we are willing to sacrifice children with fewer advantages for the sake of our own?

Sermon video: Any Life Here?

Audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

Sermon: Jesus and New Coke

John 3:1-17

Jesus and New Coke

James Sledge                                                               May 27, 2018  - Trinity Sunday

When you make a decision, what sort of process to you follow? The decision could be about what kind of car to buy, what movie to watch, where to go to school, whether to make a career change, or how to vote. Obviously some decisions require more careful deliberation, and others we can make on a whim. But what steps do you follow if the decision is important? How do you know you’ve made the right one?

People in this area and in this congregation are often highly educated. Presumably that makes more resources available to us in decision making. We’re educated to be rational, to use reason, to employ science, and so on. You would expect such things to give us some advantages in making good decisions.

Nicodemus is a well educated man, trained in Torah and in the ways of God. People would have gone to him to get expert advice on matters of scripture and the Law. His opinions would have carried some weight for those wrestling with a religious decision.

Nicodemus is intrigued with Jesus. As a religious expert, it’s obvious to him that Jesus has a connection to God, and he so he goes to see Jesus in order to learn more. Presumably he wants to make a decision about Jesus. Yes, the power of God is clearly with him, but what exactly does that mean. But when Nick goes to talk with Jesus, he goes at night.

In John’s gospel, light and darkness are terms loaded with theological symbolism. Jesus is the light that shines in the darkness, the light no darkness can overcome. For some reason, Nicodemus visits at night, in the darkness. Not a good sign.

Sure enough, Nicodemus struggles to understand Jesus.  Jesus says, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above/again.”  There’s not a comparable English word that carries both these meanings so it’s hard for us to join in Nick’s confusion, to hear something different from what Jesus intends. We have to translate it one way or the other, either “from above,” or “again.”

Still, it should not have been that hard for Nick to get it. “From above,” is the more typical meaning, and even if Nick mistakenly went with the more literal meaning initially, the correct meaning should have become clear when Jesus tries to clarify things, speaking of being born of the Spirit. But Nicodemus remains stupefied.

Sermon: Any Life Here?

Ezekiel 37:1-14

Any Life Here?

James Sledge                                                                           Pentecost, May 20, 2018

   The scene is a battlefield where one army had annihilated another. The defeat has been so total, there were either no survivors, or all those who lived had been taken prisoner. No one left to care for the dying; no one to bury the dead. All who fell on the battlefield remained there, scavengers and nature gradually doing their work. When only bones were left, they baked in the sun, drying and bleaching as months turned to years.

   As Ezekiel gazes on this desolate scene, God speaks. “Mortal, can these bones live?” What a ridiculous question. The situation is beyond hopeless. There is nothing here to be resuscitated. There’s nothing left but bones strewn and scattered about, like puzzle pieces that have been shaken up and then thrown all over the floor. 

   As far as the prophet can tell, it’s an impossible situation. There is no way. But the prophet has been surprised by the strange ways of God before, and so he throws the question back. “O Lord God, you know.”

   Sure enough, God provides the answer by giving the prophet instructions. “Prophesy to these bones, and say to them: O dry bones, hear the word of the Lord.” The prophet does as he’s told, and the bones began to reassemble and take on muscles and skin. Then there is a movement of wind/breath/Spirit, and the reassembled, fleshed out bones come to life.

   Some Christians have tried to make this vision about resurrection and eternal life, but that’s not what God says it’s about. “Mortal, these bones are the whole house of Israel.” Israel may lost all hope, yet God will restore them. God still has plans for them.

   Israel and the prophet are in Babylon, exiled from Jerusalem, which now lies in ruins, Solomon’s great temple nothing but rubble. The walls of David’s great city have been torn down. God’s promise of a house and kingdom that would last forever, of descendants who would always sit on the throne of David, has apparently been revoked.

   In exile, Israel’s theologians and faith leaders struggle to make sense of things. What does it mean to be God’s chosen people when God has allowed them to be utterly defeated and carried into exile? Has Israel’s failure to keep covenant brought it all to an end? Is there any going back? It is a time of crisis, a faith crisis, an existential crisis. Is there any future for Israel? Or is she just a failed experiment, a washed up relic that belongs to another time?

Sermon video: Not Hindering God

Audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

Sermon: Not Hindering God

Acts 8:26-40

Not Hindering God

James Sledge                                                                                       April 29, 2018

Gathering those who fear they’re not enough, so we may experience grace, renewal, and wholeness as God’s beloved. This new “missional mandate,” that has been printed in our bulletins for about two months now, was developed by Session through a long process that began with last year’s Renew Groups.

Session took the feedback from these groups and created synopsis of what we heard. It spoke of a culture that tells us to be more productive, more athletic, more studious, etc. It spoke of people feeling stressed, tired, and harried. It suggested that we needed to remind ourselves of what we already know. God loves us just as we are.

The synopsis then wondered what this might mean, suggesting, “Perhaps we are called to be a church for recovering perfectionists, of Sabbath keepers. A place where we can rest, where we are enough, where we are fully known, where we are wholly and completely loved by God, and where we can experience true joy.”

Last summer, we presented this synopsis to the congregation, with listening sessions after worship for people to tell us their thoughts, to let us know if we had heard the feedback from the Renew Groups correctly. Overwhelmingly, the answer was “Yes.”

With the synopsis confirmed, Session held a Friday evening, Saturday retreat where we joined in fellowship, worship, and work on a missional mandate. We listened for the Spirit, and over time, the mandate emerged, Gathering those who fear they’re not enough, so we may experience grace, renewal, and wholeness as God’s beloved.

I mentioned in the sermon a couple of weeks ago that further work by Session has identified several strategy areas where we hope to live into this new mandate, areas with much deeper meaning than their shorthand titles indicate: Gather, Deepen, Share.

It has taken a great deal of work to get us to this point, but the most difficult work is just beginning. We must figure out how to live out our mandate. What sorts of programs and ministries will help us Gather, Deepen, and Share? No doubt some current activities will, but we will also need new ministries and methods. And that inevitably will require letting go of some old ones. We can’t become something new doing exactly what we are doing now.

Sermon video: Hearing the Shepherd

Audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

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?

Sermon video: Enfleshed Faith

Audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

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.

Easter sermon video: As Good as Dead

Audios of sermons and worship available on the FCPC website.

Easter Sermon: As Good as Dead

Mark 16:1-8

As Good as Dead

         James Sledge                                           Resurrection of the Lord                                   April 1, 2018

If you had a pew Bible open as I read our scripture, you may have noticed a heading “The Shorter Ending of Mark” just past where I stopped. And if you looked two sentences further another heading reads, “The Longer Ending of Mark.” Both of these endings got attached many years after the gospel was originally written, presumably in an effort to “fix” that rather unsatisfying, 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. The end.

Scholars debate whether the original ending of Mark got lost along the way, or if the author intentionally ended things in such abrupt fashion. But regardless, for they were afraid is the only ending of the original gospel that we’ve got.

This ending doesn’t fit very well with our Easter celebration. Not a lot of fear and silence today. Instead there are shouts of “Christ is risen!” and the biggest crowds of the year at worship. The music is glorious, accompanied by special musicians, and there is a bright, festive mood. Nothing remotely like, and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.

In Mark’s gospel, there is no joy on Easter morning, no shouts of “He is risen!” only terror, shock, fear, and silence. Not all that surprising when you think about it. Centuries insulate us from the drama of that morning, the raw emotions of going to a friend’s grave and finding it open and empty, a strange young man sitting there, saying our friend has been raised.

On top of that, we aren’t much worried about meeting our now risen friend. Jesus is not going to be there when we get back home. No chance that he’ll say anything to us about our behavior after he was arrested. We’re not worried about what to say to Peter, who denied Jesus all those times, or the other disciples, who all ran and hid. We’ve got Jesus safely confined to heaven, not running around loose where we might bump into him.

For many of us, Jesus might as well be dead. We’ve heard about him, learned stories about him, are perhaps impressed by some of his teachings, but he doesn’t really intrude into our daily lives. Jesus may be no more alive to us than family, friends, and loved ones who’ve died. He’s gone to heaven, unseen by us. In a sense, he’s as good as dead.

__________________________________________________________________________