Archives for June 2012

Sabbatical, Day 1

June 30, 2012 By Andy James

At 6:20 P.M. on Thursday, I walked out of the First Presbyterian Church of Whitestone for the last time until after Labor Day. This was the culmination of a long process of preparation and transition – in addition to all the work involved in getting ready for this time away, I also moved into a new apartment and office in the last month!

So after all this busyness, you’d expect me to stop and slow down a bit to begin the sabbatical. Well actually, I did anything but that! Friday morning, two friends and I left NYC to drive to Pittsburgh for the 220th General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church (USA). This biennial event is a blend of a week-long business meeting and a family reunion. I’m quite familiar with these events – I attended five consecutive assemblies in various roles while I was in college! – but that was all ten years ago.

Nonetheless, coming to General Assembly is actually an incredible way to begin this time away and apart. Within minutes of arriving in the convention center, I had run into old friends. Soon I was meeting people I know from Twitter or other online interactions but had never met in real life. By the time I had wandered through the exhibit hall for an hour or so, I had seen at least 25 people I know.

This is why General Assembly is sabbatical for me: it is a time to reconnect. I am seeing people I haven’t seen in many years, people who know me and care about me and want to know what I am up to. I am seeing people who I have never met in real life before but who know me from Twitter. It’s incredibly grounding and wonderful to find this kind of community here, and I can’t imagine a better way to begin this time away.

Responding to the Storm

June 24, 2012 By Andy James

a sermon on Mark 4:35-41 for the 12th Sunday in Ordinary Time, RCL Year B
preached on June 24, 2012, at the First Presbyterian Church of Whitestone

Note: This is my final sermon before my sabbatical begins. I return to the pulpit on September 9. In the meantime, I’ll be posting pictures and reflections from my sabbatical time here.

It didn’t look like it would be a dark and stormy night when they set out – it was just a normal, everyday evening on the Sea of Galilee when Jesus suggested that they take the boat to the other side. Several of the disciples were experienced fishermen – they had been out on the water many times before, and that night they were even accompanied by other boats. But then a storm sprung up out of nowhere. Now this wasn’t all that unusual – these waters were known for being a little rough from time to time. But every storm brings its uncertainty, drama, and fear. They needed all hands on deck to help adjust the sails and even bail a little water here and there.

As everyone else was startled awake by the boat being pushed back and forth by the wind and the waves, as all the disciples sprung into action to help out the more experienced ones in managing this crisis aboard the boat, Jesus kept on sleeping peacefully down below. As the storm grew stronger and the winds and the waves beat down upon the boat, nearly swamping it, Jesus slept. The disciples were simultaneously annoyed, angry, and scared – annoyed because they needed all hands on deck to deal with the intensity of the storm, angry because Jesus was somehow still sleeping while they were working all night long, and scared because the storm was more dangerous than anything even the experienced fishermen had seen before. What had looked to be a simple, pleasant, late-night sail was putting their very lives at risk, and they needed help.

I suspect each one of us knows a good bit about unexpected storms in our lives. Just when everything seems to be going right, a call comes: something has happened. Right when we seem to have dotted every ‘i’ and crossed every ‘t,’ we are told of new requirements or changed rules. What looked like a beautiful and simple project suddenly becomes a nightmare full of tiny details and hidden issues. When these storms of life come, and they inevitably will, it is important to remember one thing: we can’t control the storms, but we can control our response.

You see, there’s just not much we can do to prevent the storms of life. On the weather front, climate experts are predicting that we’ll be facing more extreme weather in the years ahead because of the effects of global warming and climate change. In other areas of life, even when you anticipate every imaginable contingency, it’s entirely possible that some outside force will enter a situation and change it. And the uncertainty of life itself factors in to so many situations in such a way that you just can’t do anything to prevent some problems.

Instead, what we can deal with is our response. We may not be able to control what is going on around us, but we can change and control how we respond. Do we insist that we can handle it on our own, taking a chance that things will only get worse? Do we freak out and start acting like the world is ending just because we haven’t planned for this particular moment? Do we reach out for assistance from those who can really help? Or do we even just shut down and pretend like nothing is happening, denying both the reality of the storm brewing around us and the possibility that we can make a difference in our response?

When it comes to the disciples’ response to the storm, they took the easy way out – they freaked out. To a certain extent, this makes sense. The boat was being swamped, and even the experienced fishermen in the group were concerned that they might not get out of this alive. So the disciples directed their fears and anger and frustration at Jesus, the one who was asleep the whole time. They found him down in the stern and shook him awake: “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” I suspect that they not only needed his hands on deck but also his presence with them – if they were going to die, they wanted to go down together!

Whatever they expected him to do when they woke him up, he astonished them all the more. He cried out to the wind and the waves:

Peace! Be still!

Suddenly everything was calm again. The waters ceased roaring and foaming. The waves died down. The rain stopped. The wind faded into nothingness. Then Jesus asked them,

Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?

He knew that everything would be okay and that they had nothing to worry about. He was confident in God’s presence with them even through the storm, confident enough to sleep through it all!

Everything was right again on the boat – except that the disciples just didn’t understand what they had experienced. What had just happened? Who was this Jesus anyway? They didn’t expect him to be able to do this – they just wanted his help up on deck! They were more confused and afraid than ever. This man who they had started following because of his compelling words had suddenly taken control of nature. Sure, he had healed people before, but controlling nature takes things to the next level! Everything they knew about him was drawn into question, but for some reason they kept following him.

The disciples’ response to the storm and the threat to their lives was understandable, but I hope it can be instructive for us in these days. Where do we – and where should we – turn when things get rough? And what should we expect in that moment? As I prepare to leave you all for two months and begin a time of sabbatical and renewal, I hope that you won’t come running to me, angry and frustrated, thinking that I am asleep in the boat. First of all, I just won’t be able to answer! But even more than that, although I may not be here with you, aware of every little thing that is going on, tracking every wave and shift in the wind, God will be here with you. The winds and the waves will not overcome the boat that is this congregation. I trust that the work we share here will continue without me – that worship will go on as scheduled, led faithfully and competently by our friend Krystin Granberg, that the administrative tasks that we face will still get done, even that God will keep growing us in our faith as we take a brief time apart on this journey together.

Don’t get me wrong: these days will not be easy for any of us. Believe it or not, I think I will actually have a hard time not checking my work email or talking or worrying about things here! Many of us will have additional responsibilities to step up and do different roles and work in these two months. And we will still have to respond to any storms that pop up along the way. Yet I hope that Jesus’ words will echo in our minds in the midst of these days ahead:

Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?

Remember: He knew that everything would be okay and that the disciples had nothing to worry about. He was confident in God’s presence with them even through the storm, confident enough even to sleep through it all!

Our closing hymn today ends with a prayer that asks for this kind of help to trust God’s presence in the days ahead:

When I tread the verge of Jordan,
bid my anxious fears subside.
Death of death, and hell’s destruction,
land me safe on Canaan’s side.
Songs of praises, songs of praises,
I will ever give to Thee, I will ever give to Thee.

Friends, may we have this kind of confidence in God’s presence in these coming two months apart and all along our journey as we walk with Jesus Christ our Lord. Thanks be to God. Amen.

Making Things New

June 17, 2012 By Andy James

a sermon on 2 Corinthians 5:14-20 for the Sixth Sunday of Ordinary Time, RCL Year B
preached on June 17, 2012, at the First Presbyterian Church of Whitestone

I’ve been thinking back a lot recently. Between all the moving and cleaning out going on here at the church and at the manse, I’ve seen a lot of things that bring back wonderful memories! It’s been almost seven years since I began serving as your pastor, and somehow it feels both like I’ve been here forever and like I just arrived yesterday! In my cleanings, I came upon a cassette tape from a worship service on a warm August afternoon in Oxford, Mississippi, back in August 2005, when St. Andrew Presbytery ordained me to this ministry. I didn’t get a chance to listen to the tape, but my memory could hear many things, especially the joyous anthem offered by the choir. They sang a musical setting of this very text that they had sung many times before, and its melody and message echoes in my memory even today:

Therefore if we are in Christ, we become a new creation;
behold, the old has passed away; with the new comes celebration.
We are ambassadors, ministers for Christ:
come join the celebration!
All of this is from our God, who unites this congregation.

Much of my love for that song comes from my love of this text from 2 Corinthians that we read this morning and especially the idea of the new creation that it brings to mind. Here as Paul looks back on his relationship with the church in Corinth and his own pilgrimage of faith, he gives us both a central claim of our faith and a great promise of something new. First, he emphasizes once again the importance of the past event of Christ’s death in giving us life:

The love of Christ urges us on, because we are convinced that one has died for all; therefore all have died.

In Christ, we share the full benefits of his death, but not just for that reason: in his death, we also gain the promise of new life. Because of all this, everything changes. Because of Christ’s death and resurrection, we have to look at everything differently. Because all share this incredible gift of new life, we can’t look at people the same way that we used to. Because we once knew Christ from a human perspective but now see him so differently, we have to look at everyone with those new eyes. In looking back, we must look forward differently.

This new way of looking ahead culminates in what Paul calls the new creation.

If anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation;
everything old has passed away;
see, everything has become new!

The new creation is the pinnacle of Paul’s theological understanding. We hear it week after week in the promise of the assurance of pardon – “anyone who is in Christ is a new creation: the old life is gone, a new life has begun” – as a reminder of the abundant grace of God that changes everything and reshapes even our greatest sin. We get a first glimpse of it as God takes the very dead Jesus of Good Friday and breathes a new and different kind of life into him on Easter Sunday. And we see it taking full shape and form day after day as our world is transformed into something new and different and wonderful by God’s power at work in our world.

This new creation is the ultimate goal and end of our life and our faith. We are not seeking that popular image of heaven guarded by St. Peter waiting at some pearly gates. We do not walk through our days looking for some sort of golden paradise to enjoy for all eternity. We do not await the transformation of all things into something that ends up being joyful for only some of us. Instead of journeying toward any popular image of heaven, Paul says that we instead seek this new creation, a different way of life where all know the fullness of God’s love, justice, and peace, a transformed world marked not just by perfection but even more by wholeness and peace, a new way opened by the death of no less than Christ himself so that life can prevail for all. Ultimately, in the new creation, we are freed from where and what we have been so that we can be the people God calls us to be in the days ahead.

The idea of the new creation is incredibly radical. It challenges so much that we have told ourselves about this world and the next. The new creation insists that we don’t have the last word and that God can and will and is doing more than we can ever imagine or dream to transform all things. The new creation suggests that the things that are ahead will not just be a more perfect version of the way things are now or the way we remember things being in the past, but the future new creation will instead bring the full transformation of things into God’s greatest and most perfect intentions for all creation. And the new creation reminds us that ultimately God is the author and director of what is ahead, and that we are invited and encouraged to be a part of it. Because of what God has done, we look back differently – and we look forward differently, expecting a new way to emerge in and through and because of Jesus Christ our Lord.

This is a tremendous gift and a tremendous challenge. It’s great to be able to look back differently, and it is even better to have a different way of looking forward as we seek to join in the work of the new creation. But, since the new creation isn’t clearly among us yet, and since it looks so different from what we so often expect, this isn’t always very easy. In fact, in its final verse, our last hymn probably expresses my greatest feeling about the new creation, for we are waiting for God to finish this new creation in us and through us and around us, and so often there is just not much we can do to make it happen ourselves. But if we just sit idly by, waiting for someone else – even God! – to do it for us, we will miss out, for at its core the new creation is something that we must claim as our own. We can’t just look for others to do it in spite of us or wait for God to make it happen – we have a role and a responsibility to step up and embody this new way in our world.

This is not easy to do. We have to set aside the ways of this world, the ways of death that insist that life as we know it is enough, the ways of human thinking that suggest that some rightfully have more power and presence than others, the ways of uncertainty that keep us caught up in the way things have always been rather than being open to something new. We have to open ourselves to thinking differently about things, not just assuming that everything can be like it once was or that the way we have always done something is the best way for it to be done. And in the midst of it all we have to battle through our fears, our hurts, and our anxieties, trusting that God will remain present with us even when things are changing faster than we could ever imagine and praying that God will ease our fears so that we can be a full and willing part of these new things that are emerging in our world.

So amidst all that thinking back I’ve been doing lately, my vision of it all has changed a bit. I’ve seen God’s presence clearly in all of it, as things have come together in unexpected and wonderful ways, as God has clearly been walking with me every step of the way, and as God has eased my fears and given me hope that there is something new ahead. And I’ve also seen little glimpses of that new creation, too, small places where new things are creeping in through the cobwebs, brief glimpses of new light emerging amidst the darkness of our world, and even some bigger moments when all the new things that God is doing become clear.

In these days, as we look back a bit and look ahead all the more, may we see the journey with new eyes, with a strong sense of God’s presence going with us on the journey and a clear vision of how we can be a part of God’s new creation so that we can be a part of the renewal of all things by the power of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. Thanks be to God. Amen.

God’s Way

June 10, 2012 By Andy James

a sermon on 1 Samuel 8:4-20; 11:14-15 and Mark 3:20-35
preached on June 10, 2012, at the First Presbyterian Church of Whitestone

The Bible is full of stories that sometimes just don’t seem to fit with our way of life. I’m not necessarily talking about the way that some suggest the Bible recommends that we treat women, gay and lesbian persons, or anything like that – those stories and words we will deal with another time. But I’m thinking more about stories like we the two we heard today that call into question the structures and practices of our world. I’m thinking about biblical words that suggest that maybe our human institutions don’t have the last word and instead demand a different way of looking at things because God is involved.

This different way has a lot of names, but I think the best one for us is what we just sang about: the kingdom of God. While kingdoms may seem very different and distant from us, a relic from an earlier time and way of life, God’s kingdom is not. God’s kingdom is still a real and present idea for us. It shows us that God has a new and different way in mind for us and our world. The idea of God’s kingdom reminds us that even our best ways of ordering political life don’t get anywhere near God’s ways. You see, God’s kingdom is different, as our song insists: it is a way of justice and peace and joy, guided by the Holy Spirit, opened not by our own action but by God’s amazing and plentiful grace that welcomes us and all people to share in this great gift.

The kingdom of God is justice and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.
Come, Lord, and open in us the gates of your kingdom. – words and music from the Taizé Community

We didn’t hear the kingdom of God directly named in our readings this morning, but both of our texts today from the Lectionary direct us to think carefully about it and its reality in our world. In 1 Samuel, we hear about the process leading up to the appointment of Saul, the first king of Israel. The people went to Samuel, the trusted prophet who had been speaking to them, and demanded that he give them a king. Apparently the leadership of the priests and others in power was not enough for the people – they wanted to be like everyone else and have a king. Samuel, though, was a bit concerned about the idea. He prayerfully approached God with the people’s demand, and God shared Samuel’s concern.

To God, the issue was even bigger than them just trying to be like everyone else – God was certain that the people were rejecting God’s leadership of them, just as they had done so many times before, even after God had brought them out of Egypt and given them the joy of the promised land. Even so, God told Samuel to go ahead and give them the king that they so desperately wanted – with an appropriate warning of everything that that would bring.

Unlike the gracious and generous ways of God’s kingdom, the king of this kingdom would raise up an army and conscript young men from across the land to serve, often against their will. This king would make the whole economy of the nation and the land an engine to drive war, and everyone would be consumed with the drive for more and more power. This king would claim the best of everything – the best servants, the best land, the best vineyards, the best livestock – and make it his own.

But even after all these warnings, the people still wanted a king. Every other nation had one, so why shouldn’t they? This king would govern them – and fight their battles for them. They wouldn’t have to do anything anymore.

So, resigned to their demands, Samuel anointed Saul to be king over Israel. Saul was no gracious ruler, and his kingdom was never as wonderful as the people thought it would be, but God’s promise of a different kind of kingdom remained sure.

The kingdom of God is justice and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.
Come, Lord, and open in us the gates of your kingdom. – words and music from the Taizé Community

This very different way of thinking continues in our reading from the gospel according to Mark this morning, too. In it, Jesus himself sets up a strong comparison between the things of God and the things of this world as he visits his hometown and heals those who come to him there. People who knew Jesus were very concerned about everything that he had been doing – his work of healing and casting out demons was raising much controversy, and a group of scribes had even come down from Jerusalem to investigate. Some had even accused him of being from the devil, but he argued that this simply could not be the case – if he was from the devil, how could he cast out demons as he had done?

But then his family appeared on the scene, and Jesus turned the ways of the world on end all the more. When people told him that his mother and his brothers had come to see him, he acted like he didn’t want anything to do with them. He ignored their pleas to come out and see them, then he actively dismissed them, suggesting that his mother and his brothers were not all that important after all and that those who sat around him, listening to his words and acting on his instructions, were his real mother and brothers and sisters. Just as the human kingdom shouldn’t have mattered to the people of Israel, so his human family didn’t matter to Jesus. What did matter were the people who understood that there was something new and different going on and who were willing to take a chance, set everything aside, and follow him. The kingdom of God that he was seeking called not for enhanced understanding of human family but rather an extension of justice, peace, and joy to all creation, and God’s promise of a new way was sure.

The kingdom of God is justice and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.
Come, Lord, and open in us the gates of your kingdom. – words and music from the Taizé Community

So if the way of God in these stories is quite different from what we expect it might be, what is the way of God for us, now? We have been singing the truth – the kingdom of God is justice and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit – but translating those beautiful words into a way of life for us is not easy. All indications are that God’s way is very different from our own. God wanted the people of Israel to avoid the governance of the world and the trouble of a king and instead follow in God’s reigning ways and trust that God would lead them well. Jesus didn’t walk in the traditional path of care and concern for his family, but instead he insisted that his definition of family was broader than what everyone around him was assuming as he called his followers his brothers and his sisters.

Perhaps, then, it is important for us to stop making assumptions about what is God’s way and start listening for what really is before us. Maybe God’s way is very different from what we expect. Maybe God’s way is less about keeping certain people out or correcting certain behaviors than it is about making a new way for everyone. Maybe God’s way is not one political candidate or another but a different, more faithful way of everyone living together. Maybe God’s way is not about preserving a traditional cultural definition of family but about affirming all those places where God is making things new in the variety of human relationships. And maybe God’s way is not trying to replicate the way we see things in the Bible or the way we have lived them before but trying to live faithfully and hopefully in the midst of our changing world.

At the core, I think this is the kingdom of God, the way of God, the new creation of God, coming into being in our midst, when justice becomes real for everyone, when peace is not just a hope for the future but a present reality, when joy is not just for a few and not just for the future but is real and full and complete and now.

The utter and complete and full otherness of God may be on display today, but the good news of all this is that this way of life can and will be ours, for the time when all this will be real is coming. The kingdom of God is coming into our midst. We have its first marks in the life of none less than Jesus Christ, and by the power of the Holy Spirit it can and will be ours. So may we keep praying and hoping and singing, for the promise of a new way is sure.

The kingdom of God is justice and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.
Come, Lord, and open in us the gates of your kingdom. – words and music from the Taizé Community