Sermons
Deeds of Power — Mighty Works Print E-mail
Written by Skip Jackson   
Sunday, 05 July 2009
A Sermon by Sydney V. (Skip) Jackson — July 5, 2009
Indianola Presbyterian Church, Columbus, Ohio
Text:  Mark 6:1-12

[Jesus] could do no deed of power
there, except that he laid his hands
on a fewpeople and cured them. And he
was amazed at their unbelief. — Mark 6:5-6a

We come to chapter 6 of Mark’s story of “the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”  So much happened in the last chapter or so—a storm stilled, a Gerasene Gentile freed from an evil spirit called Legion, a woman healed from a flow of blood, a young girl seemingly raised from the dead.  As Jesus heads home to Nazareth, rumors must have been sweeping furiously through the village—“Where did this man get all this?  [the people ask]  What deeds of power are being done by this man’s hands!” [they exclaim]   Such wonders, such mighty works, do they really happen?  Can they be believed or not?  The people wonder.  And now here is Jesus himself, come home a grown man to teach in their synagogue on the sabbath.  Will the people who watched him grow up and go off into the world welcome him with open arms as a “hometown boy who made good”?

Last Updated ( Friday, 10 July 2009 )
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Boundless Blessing for All Print E-mail
Written by Skip Jackson   
Sunday, 28 June 2009
A Sermon by Sydney V. (Skip) Jackson — June 28, 2009
Indianola Presbyterian Church, Columbus, Ohio
Text:  Mark 4:35-5:20;  5:21-43

She… came up behind [Jesus]…
and touched his cloak, for she
said, “If I but touch his clothes,
I will be made well.” — Mark 5:28

[Jesus] took her by the hand and said
to her “Talitha cum,” which means,
“Little girl, get up!” — Mark 5:41

There’s so much going on in Mark that it’s hard to know where to start when it comes to preaching.  Whatever story or episode is chosen, we land smack dab in the middle of it all, dealing with but a tiny portion of the “good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God” [Mk 1:1], as Mark terms it.  Actually, the full story isn’t all that long.  In most bibles the book of Mark takes about 20 pages.  I could probably read the entire book aloud in less than hour or so—about half the duration of a short play or movie.  Try it sometime.  Read all of Mark aloud without stopping.  Most likely that’s how the Gospel was intended to be experienced.  For the good news is embodied in the entirety of Mark’s brief account of Jesus’ ministry.

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Oysters Too (or Oyster Stew) Print E-mail
Written by Skip Jackson   
Sunday, 14 June 2009
A Sermon by Sydney V. (Skip) Jackson — June 14, 2009
Indianola Presbyterian Church, Columbus, Ohio
Texts:  Exodus 3:1-15;  Mark 8:27-33

God said to Moses, “I AM WHO I AM.” — Ex. 3:14a

[Jesus] rebuked Peter and said,
“Get behind me, Satan!” — Mark 8:33b

“Once upon a time, in the mud at the bottom of a tidal pool, there lived an oyster.”  So begins a fable that Robert Farrar Capon wrote 35 years ago as an introduction to a little book on the language of theology.1  This oyster had a good life, with lots of clean water and food.  Even better, nearby was a rock that let the oyster feel superior.  (Who doesn’t like feeling superior?)  The oyster would talk to the rock—who rarely talked back—bragging about how even though the two looked a lot alike the rock was merely mineral.  Oysters may be mineral on the outside, but on the inside they were bona fide members of the animal kingdom.

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All God's Ghildren at Play Print E-mail
Written by Skip Jackson   
Sunday, 31 May 2009
A Sermon by Sydney V. (Skip) Jackson — May 31, 2009
Indianola Presbyterian Church, Columbus, Ohio
Texts: Acts 2:1-13;  John 20:19-23 — Pentecost & Baptism

Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. 
Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you.
As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”
— John 20:20b-21

It’s Pentecost, and today we celebrate the day—50 days after Easter—when, according to Acts, the church of Jesus Christ was born.  What a fine, bouncing baby it was, so filled with the Spirit.  But along with being the “birthday of the church,” Pentecost, at its very core, isabout being called by God.

What a “heavy” theological concept that is—called by God.  I used to think of it as like being called home for meals when I was a kid.  In my neighborhood, parents would step outside back doors on hot summer evenings (no one ever used their front door except for company) and they’d yell for their kids.  “Skip!  Larry!  Dinner time!”  And we’d come running (if we knew what was good for us).  I used to picture God’s call in terms of this simple image, and there is indeed much of value here.  God’s call is personal—addressed to each of us by name.  And we are called home—to our true home where there is welcome and nourishment and loving care.  But there are significant problems with this image as well.

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"The Landscape of God's Love" Print E-mail
Written by Susan Warrener Smith   
Sunday, 24 May 2009
May 24, 2009    John 3 (selected verses)

    This past week I read several essays that reminded me that God’s love spreads out before us like a mysterious landscape that is recognized in the heart and in the soul in ways it cannot be recognized in any other way.   Gayle Boss writes about growing up on the shores of Lake Michigan and describes it this way.  She writes,  “It is wide and deep and infinite shades of blue.  I was born on its shore, its rhythms ever present and intricate and taken for granted; a heartbeat.  Every day as I grew, its substance touched my skin, some days so gently as to leave no impression, some days so insistent that things with weight and shape - houses and friends, trees and animals - faded into ghosts.”   Gayle Boss moved away from Lake Michigan as an adult and its deep and infinite shades of blue, though not completely forgotten, were packed away in the recesses of her mind.  But at some point she felt again its incessant pull and packed up her family and moved back to this place where her children could come to know the mysteries of this landscape, too.   As an adult, looking out beyond the dunes at the vast landscape once again, she writes, “Two hundred fifty feet below me waves innumerable, from the horizon to shore, rise and fall, each wave replaced by another in endless succession.  They wear rocks on the lake bottom to sand, shift the sand already on shore.  Gently, and not so gently, beauty is made and re-made.  The elemental work of the universe is laid out here for anyone to see and hear and smell and taste and feel, as it is in distant mountains and prairies, deserts and rivers and bogs, or in the tangled meadow at the end of my street.  The same force, with all its up swellings, erodings, scourings, and re-shapings, is at work on the landscape within.  There, in that wild place, its name is grace.  There, too, its action is inexorable, and its end, beauty.”

   
Last Updated ( Sunday, 31 May 2009 )
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