Happy new year, everyone! I trust that your Christmas celebrations and ringing in the new year have given you a bit of a breather from the normal rhythms of life. I also hope that you are ready to engage deeply with what God has for you in 2026.
Since communion is part of our worship today, I want to get straight to things. I’ve been a pastor here for eight years. When I first got here, there was a lot of momentum around my arrival. We did some good, hard work on discipleship. We’ve engaged in spiritual disciplines. We’ve dived deeply into challenging Bible stories. There was good energy around this faithful work.
But then the pandemic hit, and everything changed. Our interactions were less frequent. Our ability to plan anything with the promise of a critical mass showing up became very difficult. Things grew strained in ways we recognized and in many ways we weren’t even aware of at the time.
Fast forward to this past year, and I think this wash of disconnection initiated by the pandemic, the nonstop drumbeat of partisan politics, and our inability as a culture to seek to understand our neighbors with whom we disagree has led to a lot of disruption in the life of the church. It’s the never-ending hum in my ear as I write every sermon (Who’s going to be upset about these words? Who’s wondering why I said this and not that?) and as I strive to lead the church — with our elders — faithfully in this moment.
Our church leaders, myself included, are aware that several members of our church decided that they no longer felt welcome in our pews in this past year. Others have quietly faded out, despairing at the state of the world. I grieve those decisions because I so highly value what it means to be a Christ-centered community.
While I grieve that, I also have to point out to the church that this swirl of members moving from one church to another is happening all over our community. Just last month I gathered with other pastors to pray for our ministries and community, and there were two themes common to every church represented there. First, all were running behind in giving heading into December. Second, every church was in the midst of having folks leave, either quitting church totally or heading to another congregation. So, at the same time that folks felt it was time to leave, we are also seeing many new friends finding a place in our sanctuary. To you I say, “Welcome! I hope you find yourself at home here.”
With all of that in mind, I have decided that 2026 is the year where we are going to dive deeply into what our identity is as First Presbyterian Church of Grand Haven. We’re going to begin with our Core Values, which the Session approved in 2019, shortly before our world fell apart. It’s time to remember why we’ve painted these values on our wall and to dig more deeply into their implications for how we are the church together. As the year moves on, I’m planning to take a deeper dive into the gifts of being Presbyterian. I know that can sound very specific to us, but given what is happening in our world and how we’re all struggling to live well together in disagreement, I believe that our beliefs and practices as Presbyterians actually offer solutions to what ails us.
So, I hope you’ll be willing to dive in more deeply with us this year. While there are many ways to live out the Christian faith, as a convert to the Presbyterian Church, I am eager to point out the gold mine of wisdom we have inherited in how we practice the faith.
For January, I’ll be focusing on our four Core Values. The first one anchors all of our life together. I would hope it’s not exclusive to us (I believe every church should be Christ-centered!), but I do believe stating this at the outset frames everything else we do.
We are Christ-centered.
Session fleshed this core value out like this: We believe we see who God is and what God is doing in the world most clearly through Jesus. The church begins with Jesus, and knowing and obeying Jesus more fully is the ultimate goal of the church. We center our ministry on knowing Jesus and serving others in Jesus’ name.
It’s also something that shows up in our Vision Statement that we say together at the end of Sunday worship: We are called to celebrate God’s grace as a Christ-centered community of acceptance.
Being Christ-centered must be at the root of everything we do as a church. (At least that’s the aim…we don’t always live up to this, but when we don’t, it’s important for us to hold each other accountable to stay centered on Christ.) Being Christ-centered is reflected in our worship. It’s shown in the very architecture of this space. Jesus is all over this sanctuary. It’s part of how we approach our preaching, praying, and singing.
But it goes deeper than that. Being Christ-centered shapes how we budget. It keeps us grounded in giving away 10% to mission when giving isn’t where we thought it would be. It shapes how we decide how to handle Children’s and Youth Ministry.
And it goes even deeper still. Being Christ-centered shapes the way that we try to relate to each other, even when we disagree. It causes us to humble ourselves with each other, to seek forgiveness, and to do the hard work of reconciliation. It should cause us to believe the best about each other and also to pause and really listen when we are not seeing eye-to-eye on something that matters to both people.
Being Christ-centered is not something we made up. It’s biblical. You heard Paul’s words to the Colossian believers. “So if you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on the things that are above, not on the things that are on earth, for you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life is revealed, then you also will be revealed with him in glory.”
I’m convinced that so much of our lives are spent focusing on all sorts of lesser identities. We are not seeking the things that are above. Paul says that Christ is our life, not a little add-on to everything else we have going on. What does that mean? Everything we say and do should be centered on who Jesus is and on how we’re striving to become like him, holding captive everything thought and action to him.
This thought runs through our gospel reading too. Jesus has just said that he’s the Bread of Life — a very appropriate teaching for today as we celebrate communion — but it’s also a challenging thought for their understanding. Those around Jesus actually say, “This teaching is difficult; who can accept it?” Jesus asks them if his teaching offends them, and it apparently does because many of those following Jesus stop doing so. But the twelve remain. Jesus asks, “Do you also wish to go away?” Ever the bold one, Peter replies, “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.”
Jesus has the words of life. If we turn to anyone or anything else, we’ve become untethered from what anchors us to the God who created us, loves us, and saves us. And our challenge in life is that there are so many other voices that do not come from Jesus but that might sound reasonable or that might affirm what we already think.
The work of the church must always be anchored in who Jesus is and in doing our best to faithfully serve Jesus together. It can be messy. There will be disagreements. There will be challenges. That’s just a part of life together, but if we are not radically centered on Christ, then we will totally lose the plot of what it means to be a church — the body of Christ for this particular time and place.
I’m going to close with some Irish poetry. How does that sound?
In 1919, William Butler Yeats wrote a poem called “The Second Coming.” It’s a poem that describes the chaos of the world following the horrors of the First World War. It was a world where what people believed about everything had gotten flipped on it’s head. No one knew what was true about the world anymore. I’ve long loved this poem, but I find its first stanza to be a chilling warning.
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
As a church, we are supposed to be followers of Jesus Christ. We are to center our lives, our everything, around him. Our world is often a turbulent place; this day and age sure are. The falcon cannot hear the falconer.
And I ask, church, can we hear the voice of Christ over and above all the other clamoring noise out there? For the center to hold, we have to train our ears to hear the voice of Jesus. That is the work of the church. We will anchor ourselves to the one sure thing in this life, Jesus Christ, and we will center our lives and ministry around him.
We are…we must be…Christ-centered.