Seeing as Jesus Sees

Walk around any college campus, big hospital, or even many church campuses, and you are likely to see signs and plaques with people's names on them. These sometimes belong to greatly admired people who served there in the past, but more often they belong to people who made big monetary contributions allowing new buildings to be built, teaching positions to be endowed, or new programs to be started. But though there are many reasons for someone's name to make it onto a plaque, it seems quite certain that no one like the poor widow in today's gospel has her name so inscribed.

That's hardly surprising. How would a college or hospital or church even know that someone's very small gift was almost all she had? And I have no real issues with wealthy donors being recognized when their generosity helps things that could not have happened otherwise take place. (Even Jesus doesn't disparage the wealthy givers in this story.) But as I read this story, I found myself wondering how Jesus sees, and how that is different from how I and the world sees.

I wonder about this precisely because of how unnoticeable the giving Jesus points out is to me. And while Jesus doesn't disparage the sort of giving that makes me take notice, neither does he praise it, saving that for the widow's gift. Jesus seems to see things through a very different lens that many of us tend to do. Yet I assume that to be "in Christ" is to begin seeing the world more as he does.

There's an old adage about perception being reality which suggests that when my perception changes my reality will begin to change as well. But can I see as Jesus sees? The classic theological answer is that I cannot. At least I cannot on my own. But a new me, born in the power of the Spirit, where "in Christ there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!" that is something altogether different.

God who makes all things new in Christ, help me to see as Jesus sees.

Click to learn more about the lectionary.

Restlessness and Longing

As a deer longs for flowing streams,
    so my soul longs for you, O God.  Psalm 42:1

Some years ago, a spiritual director recommended a book she thought would resonate with me. It was The Holy Longing, by Ronald Rolheiser. Its first chapter begins, "It is no easy task to walk this earth and find peace. Inside of us, it would seem, something is at odds with the very rhythm of things and we are forever restless, dissatisfied, frustrated, and aching. We are so overcharged with desire that it is hard to come to simple rest. Desire is always stronger than satisfaction... We are driven persons, forever obsessed, continually dis-eased, living lives, as Thoreau once suggested, of quiet desperation, only occasionally experiencing peace."

Rolheiser goes on to say that the much misunderstood term "spirituality" is about what we do with this burning desire. In that sense, everyone has a spirituality, which is not to say that everyone pursues their desires in ways that are helpful. Indeed many spiritualities may be destructive and pathological, but they are the way in which people's souls attempt to quench their desire.

My own restlessness is often quite close to the surface. At times this longing has been, to use Rolheiser's language, holy. It has drawn me toward God and toward God's will for me, a longing like that named by today's psalmist. But at other times, my longing and restlessness seeks an outlet in other places and is far from holy. This can be particularly problematic for a pastor because my longings for success or affirmation or accomplishment can easily be dressed in religious garb.

I suspect that the spectacular moral failings and scandals that too often plague religious leaders have to do with this easy confusing of a personal desire with a holy one. I suspect a number of such folks fooled themselves long before they ever fooled others. That surely happens in the non-religious arena as well, any time people decide their desires and longings are valid and legitimate, if not actually holy.

In the aforementioned opening chapter, Rolheiser also uses a famous quote from Augustine. "You have made us for yourself, Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you." Success and accomplishments are fine, up to a point, but they never completely fill our emptiness, although our frenzied, anxious, rat-race of a world indicates we're still hoping they may. At the same time, the current fascination with the topic of spirituality suggests that many have their doubts.

What is the object of your deepest longings? And as Sarah Palin might say, "How's that working out for you?" I know that for me, it's easy to get off track, and every so often, I need to make sure my deepest longings are actually about God.

Click to learn more about the lectionary.

Not Much Action

Today the lectionary takes up the book of Acts. Acts is short for "The Acts of the Apostles," though some have suggested a better name would be The Acts of the Holy Spirit. Regardless, the apostles are a little short on action as the book opens. The disciples watch Jesus ascend, they wait, and they "were constantly devoting themselves to prayer."

Not that waiting and devoting themselves to prayer are the sames as doing nothing, but they are not the sort of action that will mark much of the book following the events of Pentecost. And they are certainly not the sort of thing that counts for action in our world.

I'll confess that waiting and devotion to prayer are not things that come easily to me. I want to feel like I'm "doing something," and even wasting time on Facebook feels like busyness, even if it is totally unproductive busyness. But waiting and prayer...

There's a famous quote from the great reformer, Martin Luther, that says, "I have so much to do today that I'm going to need to spend three hours in prayer in order to be able to get it all done." But that is pretty much the opposite of my natural tendency. The busier I am the less time it seems I have to pray. And I don't think I'm all alone on this.

In my own life, one of the real problems with "not having time to pray" is that my actions and busyness become more about me than about God. I'm busy doing things, but that's not necessarily the same as God at work in and through me.

One of the crazy claims of Christian faith is that through the power of the Holy Spirit, followers of Jesus incarnate him in and to the world. That's a whole lot bigger than helping others and doing good things. It is about becoming the living body of Christ. The book of Acts is pretty clear that such a thing requires something from outside of us, the power and gifts of the Spirit. And apparently, that requires waiting and devotion to prayer.

Click to learn more about the lectionary.

Sermon video: Bad Shepherds and Mr. Rogers

Sorry about the voice; had a bit of a cold.
Audios of sermons and worship can be found at FCPC website.

Sermon: Bad Shepherds and Mr. Rogers

1 Kings 21:1-10, 15-21a

Bad Shepherds and Mr. Rogers

James Sledge                                                                                       June 16, 2013

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want, says Psalm 23. God says to King David, “It is you who shall be shepherd of my people Israel.” Jesus says, “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” Not surprisingly in a culture where sheep herding was common, the metaphor of shepherd was applied to God, to kings, and to Jesus as Messiah, an image drawn from shepherds protecting their flocks from predators, and guiding them to good pasture and water to drink.

Few of us have much familiarity with shepherding, but we still use the metaphor, at least in the church. In the service where John Ohmer was officially installed as rector at The Falls Church Episcopal, the bishop carried a shepherd’s crook , a symbol that he is called to shepherd the diocese.

In the Old Testament, the kings that follow after King David are also supposed the shepherd Israel, to watch over God’s flock. Some of them do, but a lot of them don’t. Prophets lament the lost sheep of Israel burdened by their bad shepherds. The prophet Ezekiel says, “Ah you shepherds of Israel who have been feeding yourselves! Should not shepherds feed the sheep? You eat the fat, you clothe yourselves with wool, you slaughter the fatlings; but you do not feed the sheep. You have not strengthened the weak, you have not healed the sick, you have not bound up the injured, you have not brought back the strayed, you have not sought the lost, but with force and harshness you have ruled them.”

In much the same way that Jesus speaks centuries later, the prophets judge kings by how they care for the sheep, especially the most vulnerable. And God’s judgment is especially on these “false shepherds” who enrich themselves at the expense of the flock.

King Ahab and Queen Jezebel certainly fall into the category of false shepherds. Their story opens with this ominous note. Ahab, son of Omri did evil in the sight of the Lord more than all who were before him. And in our reading this morning, Ahab and Jezebel engage in a textbook case of bad shepherding, murdering Naboth in order to get what they want.

When I Am Weak

The Apostle Paul is an intriguing character. His writings are the basis of much of Protestant Christianity's particular emphases, but we know him primarily from his occasional letters. (The book of Acts also contains a great deal of material about Paul, although it is sometimes difficult to reconcile with what Paul himself says.) Reading Paul's letters if often a bit like listening in on one half of a phone conversation. It is not always clear what's on the other side of the discussion.

For the most part, Paul's letters address issues and concerns in congregations he has founded. Often, Paul is quite exasperated with the situation and is attempting to correct it. That seems to be the case in the readings from the last couple of days. For some reason, Paul feels compelled to argue for his authority, and it is in that effort that he gives one of his famous lines, a response from God to his prayers to remove a "thorn" that was given him. "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness."

Paul says this thorn keeps him from being too elated because of the spectacular revelations he has received. It forces him to rely on God's grace alone, giving him a remarkable outlook on things. "So, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. Therefore I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities for the sake of Christ; for whenever I am weak, then I am strong."

 I don't know many people who boast in their weaknesses. As I mentioned on Monday, many of us aspire to self-sufficiency and abhor the notion of being dependent on anything. But Paul says that it is when he is weak that he discovers strength.

I think that one of the most difficult things for me is to be confident is something other than my own strengths and abilities. If I'm facing something difficult and I do not feel competent or well-equipped to handle it, I may despair of not having what it takes to do the job. But Paul seems to take the exact opposite view.

Over the years, people have often spoken of Presbyterians as the "frozen chosen," referring both to our belief that God reaches out to us in a freely offered gift, and also to our staid nature. We often work so hard to get everything neatly and well ordered that the whole thing can feel a bit dry. And I wonder if we don't have a tendency to trust too much in our own strength of intellect, leaving scant room for the sort of strength and power Paul speaks of.

One of the growing edges I'm trying to work on is viewing my own weaknesses differently. Rather than as failings or deficiencies that make me feel anxious and not up to the task, I'm trying to envision them as openings for the power that comes only from God. How wonderful it would be to proclaim with Paul, "Whenever I am weak, then I am strong."

Click to learn more about the lectionary.

Creating God

It happens sometimes when I'm looking at the scripture passages for an upcoming Sunday sermon, and it happened when I read today's lectionary passages. None of them really spoke to me or moved me. If anything, some of them bothered me a bit.

I think most all folks tend to be drawn to scripture that resonates with where they already are. I know I do. And so I like passages that talk about God's love or about God caring for the downtrodden, but I'm less enamored with passages that speak of judgment or demand I do things I'd rather not. Often I'm better at seeing how others selectively pick and choose what scriptures they want to follow than I am at recognizing the behavior in myself. But then I read the lectionary and can't find a single passage I want to reflect on, and I know I'm doing the same thing.

What happens when the God we meet in scripture is not the God we want to meet? There are certainly passages that don't mean what they at first seem to, and there are passages that need to be considered in the larger context of other scripture. But still, there are many times when I and others simply prefer to create God in our own image. How else to explain the many varied and different Gods one meets in the teachings of various denominations and strains of Christianity?

One thing is certain, when I meet a scriptural picture of God that does not resonate with me or even disturbs me, that is surely something I need to spend some time with, letting it test and refine the God I have built for myself.

Click to learn more about the lectionary.

Grace Colored Glasses

In today's Old Testament reading, Israel is about to enter the land of promise, but Moses is not going to enter it with them. And so he reminds them of the covenant God has made with them, insisting that it is not too difficult a task for them. "If you obey the commandments of the LORD your God that I am commanding you today, by loving the LORD your God, walking in his ways, and observing his commandments, decrees, and ordinances, then you shall live and become numerous, and the LORD your God will bless you in the land that you are entering to possess."

It is simple. Do as God has commanded and all will go well. Play by the rules, and you will prosper. But history proves that keeping God's commandments is too difficult, and Israel's history is filled with stories of their failures. Fortunately, God seems unwilling to give up on Israel. True, there are consequences for their failing to live as God's people, but God's grace simply will not leave them to their own devices.

That's encouraging news for me, because I know all about the sort of self-destructive behavior Israel engages in. Most all of us do things we know we shouldn't do and fail to do things we know that we should. I often regret such choices shortly after, but that doesn't always stop me from making the same choices again.

I think my experience may explain why stories of Jesus seeking the lost are so popular. At times, we all can identify with a wayward, prodigal son, a lost sheep, or a fellow like Zacchaeus from today's gospel, whose greed has caused him to hurt others and become despised in his own community.

But Jesus says, "He too is a son of Abraham." Zacchaeus may have betrayed his own people, may have walled himself off by his own, self-destructive behavior. But Jesus simply will not leave him there. He draws Zacchaeus back in, even when it scandalizes the good, religious folk.

It's nice to know that even when I act in ways contrary to what God wants, when I go through the day acting as though God isn't even there, when I put my own petty needs above everyone else's, Jesus refuses to see me as my actions define me. Instead he insists, "You too are a beloved child of God."

That calls for a big "Thanks be to God!"

Click to learn more about the lectionary.

Becoming Dependent... in a Good Way

I'm back in the office after taking off most of last week. I'm pretty exhausted, but in a good way. My wife and I finally found a home to purchase after many months of searching, and I spent last week ripping out layers of old kitchen floor, knocking down a wall, refinishing hardwood flooring, and hanging sheet rock. I still have a lot of work to do, but I made a lot of progress.

I come from that "If you want it done right you'd better do it yourself" school of thought, and so I am inclined to do anything I know how to do - or think I can learn to do - on my own. (Only occasionally do I get myself in trouble by attempting something I shouldn't have.) So I am feeling pretty good about myself as a handyman after last week, but there is a downside to my do-it-yourself attitude.

Being self-sufficient is something many people aspire to, although no one is ever totally so. But for me, the desire to be self-sufficient can make me loathe to ask for help. If I need help, then I'm not doing it myself. In fact, I'm dependent on another, and dependent is the opposite of self-sufficient.

For God alone my soul waits in silence;
    from him comes my salvation.  
He alone is my rock and my salvation,
    my fortress; I shall never be shaken.   Psalm 62:1-2

At the core of Christian faith is a radical dependence on God, on God's love and grace in Jesus. This is perhaps especially true for Protestants like myself who speak of "justification by grace through faith," the notion that restored relationship with God is a gift freely offered, not something we can acquire by our efforts. There are times when this sounds absolutely wonderful, this promise of God's love extended to us regardless. But it can negate notions of personal merit, accomplishment, etc.

Notions of self-sufficiency sometime lead me astray in church work when I think that "success" is about getting everything just right: the right programs, the right mission activities, the right volunteers, and so on. But when I think this way I view church through a self-sufficiency lens, not leaving much room for God to operate, for the Spirit to move, for more than I can imagine to occur.

And so I need to remind myself to wait for God alone. I need to remember that Jesus promises to be with all who seek to follow him, and we don't need to do it all ourselves. He calls me away from the impossible demand of being self-sufficient saying, "Come to me, all you that are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."

That sounds pretty inviting.

Click to learn more about the lectionary.

Sermon video - Extravagant Generosity: Freed from Consumeritis

June 2 sermon

Audios of sermons and worship on Falls Church Presbyterian website.

Sermon video: Risk-Taking Mission and Service: Use Your Talents Foolishly

Sermon from May 26

Audios of sermons and worship found on church website.

Sermon - Extravagant Generosity: Freed from Consumeritis

Luke 19:1-10

Extravagant Generosity: Freed from Consumeritis

James Sledge                                                                                       June 2, 2013

I was in Target the other day, picking up a few small items, and for some reason I walked detoured through the TV section. I didn’t even slow down as I walked by the 26, 32, and 40 inch screens, but I stopped at the 55 and 70 inch TVs. Now that would be nice. Think of the Super Bowl party you could have with a 70 inch television.

That big screen called to me, but I walked on to the checkout with my little basket of items. I wanted it though, and I wished I had it. I even felt a bit diminished by not having it, which is not surprising since I suffer from a disease endemic to our culture. I don’t have a bad case, but I still have consumeritis. Its chief symptom is always needing more in order to be happy: a new TV, new car, renovated kitchen, new smart phone, and on and on and on.

One of the problems with consumeritis is that getting more doesn’t actually help. You still need more. That’s true whether you’re rich or poor. Regardless of income, people say that if they just had 20% more, they’d be happy.[1] Just think, wherever you are, whatever your salary, whatever you have, someone is sure she’d be happy if only she made what you make and had what you have. But you know better.

Consumeritis is a great spiritual malady of our age and the cause of much of our anxiety. It’s true that a bit of dissatisfaction can motivate and drive us, but at some point, this endless striving for more becomes pathological, an addiction that can never be sated. It keeps people in jobs they can’t stand, and it runs them ragged. It consumes people, damaging relationships, ruining health, and more. As someone has said, “We buy things we don't even need with money we don't even have to impress people we don't even know”[2]

Endemic cosumeritis is a modern problem, but the disease itself has been around forever. No doubt Zacchaeus suffered from it. After all, he had pursued riches in a manner that left him hated and disowned by fellow Israelites. Chief tax collectors purchased their position from the Romans, becoming a part of Rome’s hated occupation. And beyond collaborating with the Romans, they got rich by collecting more taxes than were actually owed and keeping the surplus. In other words, Zacchaeus was a traitor and a thief.

I wonder what drove Zacchaeus to pursue wealth at such costs. What about him was willing to become a hated pariah to get wealth? Surely there was some deep, unfilled need that drove him. But I suspect it had not worked out as he hoped. How else to explain his desire to see Jesus, even if he made a fool of himself in the process?

And when he meets Jesus, everything changes. He’s ready to give away half he owns and repay quadruple anyone he defrauded. Whatever it was that drove him to pursue wealth no matter the cost, it is gone, and Jesus says that “salvation” has come to his house. Zacchaeus has been healed, made whole, saved, made new.