Showing posts with label communion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label communion. Show all posts

Monday, November 7, 2011

Show and Tell

Mark 10:13-16
Psalm 78:1-7

Despite the morning scramble it sometimes produces, "Show and Tell" is a favorite day at our house. For William it comes every other week, and for Karoline every Tuesday, so you'd think we would have gotten the schedule down by now, but anyway. We don't.

But even with the extra time spent in the morning running around the house trying to find just the right thing to bring to school to show their friends and tell good stories about, Show and Tell is a favorite for my kids. Like Mark in that picture, both Karoline and William got the chance to tell their daycare classes about the day Margaret was born, and show her picture even before they got to meet her. We haven't been brave enough to send a real pet to school like Eric, but pictures of Sophie and even our cat that died years before either child had a good memory of him, has slipped into a turn or two. Show and tell, at least for our children, is more than just a time to talk in front of the class and share your "stuff." It is an important place where they make sense of their lives. It know it sounds like I'm inflating this little classroom activity, but I think it’s true. It's where they get to choose what is important to them and stand up in front of their teachers and peers and declare it. They get to tell their stories, share what they know, remember what they have experienced, and in the telling, in a way, experience it all over again.

The disciples were less than excited about the “Show and Tell” that was taking place around Jesus in the gospel of Mark. People were bringing their children to Jesus to receive his touch, probably for the healing or exorcism that Jesus had been demonstrating, but the disciples wanted none of it. It wouldn’t have been abnormal at the time. Thoughts and feelings about children were much less positive and sentimental at the time than they are now. Children weren’t even better seen than heard; children were better fetching water, watching animals, or working in fields than anywhere else. Children were a commodity more than a blessing, so their presence around Jesus, in the minds of the disciples and many others would have been superfluous, unnecessary, a distraction from the real ministry that needed to be done.

But Jesus had a little bit of show and tell to do himself. “Let them come,” he said. Against all common wisdom, against all accepted understandings, he welcomed the children to him. In fact, he was indignant that they come. He was insistent that his welcome be for all people, young and old, male and female, Jew and Gentile, sinner and saint, wise and ignorant, rich and poor, free and imprisoned. He was adamant that the boundaries the rest of society insisted upon had no authority in his faith, in his family, among the people of God. “Let the children come to me; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs.”

“Let them come,” our sacrament of baptism says. Let them come whether they know about God’s love or not. Let them come when they can’t yet choose for themselves. Let the children come and be washed in God’s grace, God’s mercy, and God’s love - - the grace and mercy and love God has showered upon them from the first moment of their existence. Let them come to these waters that remind us of so many other waters that have come before. Let them come to the waters of creation, the waters God tamed bringing order out of chaos. Let them come to the waters of the exodus, the water that God parted in order to bring the children of Israel out of slavery to freedom. Let them come to the waters of justice that roll down like a mighty stream washing away inequality with compassion. Let them come to the water where Jesus was baptized, commissioning him for his ministry and us for ours. Let them come to the water, the river the flows through the city of heaven, bringing life and nourishment to all who dwell there. Let them come to this water that welcomes them into our family of faith, that joins them to Christ and his body on earth, the Church. Let them come.

Let them come, let ALL of God’s children come to table of our Lord. Let us come to this table where our host is also the one who nourishes us. Let us hear and respond to Jesus’ invitation to feast with him here and in glory with a resounding, “Yes!” Let us come to the table remembering the manna that came from heaven, feeding and strengthening the Israelites days by day as they wandered in weary times. Let us come to the table that Esther set before her husband the king where she could speak truth and work for compassion before one in power. Let us come to the table where Jesus eats with sinners. Let us come to the heavenly banquet table God is preparing for us even now where we will feast with all the saints someday.

Don’t you see? These sacraments, these special celebrations and remembrances, these are our show and tell. These are the way we remind one another, the way we tell the children and the generations yet to come, the way we demonstrate to the world who we are, what is important to us, what we believe. We believe in God who welcomes all from the youngest and weakest, to the oldest and strongest. We believe in Jesus who knows our faults and sits with us anyway, who by his acceptance forgives our wrongs. We believe in the Spirit who joins us together with one another and with all people who have shown and told their faith through these sacraments before us, and even those who will come after us. These sacraments that are open not to those who know enough or believe enough or who understand enough, but these sacraments that are open to ALL who have even a mustard seed of faith, these are our show and tell when we utter the things we have heard and known, when we display the glorious deeds of the LORD, when we remember what we have experienced of God’s grace and love. In our telling today and every time we share them, may we experience that grace all over again.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

One Body

Colossians 3:12-17
1 Corinthians 12:14-27


I once worked with a pastor who couldn’t stand that little finger play up there on the screens. Join with me if you know it -- “Here is the church. Here is the steeple. Open the door and see all the people.” It’s cute, right? I’m pretty sure I knew that game before I knew any Bible verses, maybe even any Bible stories. So what’s the big deal? What did this pastor have against a nice little kids’ rhyme?

Well, it was the church part. This colleague was pretty particular about the way the word “church” is used. “The church is NOT a building,” he would say. It’s not our sanctuary or our Sunday School rooms, our offices or our Fellowship Hall. The church is not bricks and mortar.

The problem with that finger play for my colleague is that for him it’s all backwards. “Here is the sanctuary,” he might say. “Here is the steeple.” (That part doesn’t change.) “Open the door and see...the church!” OK, so it doesn’t rhyme. It loses a lot as a kids’ game without the rhyme, but the theology is so much better.

The church, my colleague was getting at, is the people. The church isn’t a place; it’s a community. It’s the people of God created, redeemed, and blessed for ministry. It’s the gathering of believers called together, but also sent out to be active in God’s work in the world. The church, Paul described in his letter to the Corinthians is a living, breathing, active, creative, responsive, body, Christ’s body, to be sure.

I think this is a vital part of our faith. As Christians we claim to be more than just followers of a Jesus, more than just worshipers of God, more than just recipients of the Spirit. We understand ourselves to be collectively, the representation of Christ himself on earth. The church, the holy community, at its very best, is called to the best expression of Christ’s body on earth. This is what we claim to be - - together - - when we’re living and working the way God calls us to.

There are a couple of key points to that idea. One is that it only works when we do it TOGETHER. No one person among the faithful can be the body of Christ alone. No one person expresses Christ-likeness well enough alone to claim that role for himself or herself. It’s why we Presbyterians LOVE our committees. When God’s people work together, we claim, the Spirit of unity makes us the body of Christ. We aren’t the body of Christ on our own; we are individually members of it, but we are not it. Like Paul said, an eye is not the body alone, and an eye cannot function alone. The eye needs the ear and the mouth and the nose and the hands and the feet and the torso and everything other part of the body to make it work to its fullest potential. Each part does not a body make, but together we can be the body of Christ, the church.

The second point is that little caveat “at its best.” The church, we all know, is made up of human beings. We run the same risk as ever other human institution to fall into the way of sin. I remember an old bumper sticker I saw ages ago that said it best, “Christians aren’t perfect, just forgiven.” I’m not saying that others aren’t forgiven, too; that’s another sermon for another day, but I love the admission and realization in that statement that following Christ does not mean we are perfect people. And imperfect people make an imperfect church.

We make mistakes large and small. As denominations and faith traditions within the larger body of Christ we have covered up abuse out of fear of scandals. We have persecuted brothers and sisters in Christ and people of other faiths or no faith at all. We have ignored the poor, the hungry, the naked, the less-educated, the mentally ill. We have bullied people based on theology, race, and sexual orientation.

Within this congregation and in others we have failed to honor one another as we should. We have reacted rashly out of anger and hurt. We have talked behind each other’s backs or left hard feelings unresolved altogether. We have put our own desires first and disregarded the likes of others. We have been slow to forgive and seek reconciliation with one another. We are an imperfect gathering of imperfect people, and it is difficult, no, impossible for us to be “at our best” by our own efforts.

On our own, even in the church we resort to the ways of the world. We are a broken body. We forget that we are called to a different kind of community than the kind we experience away from the body of Christ. We forget that we aren’t a corporation or a business or a city council or any other earthly institution. We forget that we are the body of Christ, God’s chosen ones, who by a heavenly voice are called to live with one another a different way.

We are called to drape ourselves with compassion, the act of suffering along with those who suffer, humility, where we honor others more than we honor ourselves, patience, where we wait for one another without grumbling. Most of all, I believe, we are called to be a loving, forgiving people, recognizing the imperfections we see so clearly in others are also very present in our own lives. We are called to offer grace when we are hurt, not revenge, not vindication. When we are wronged and we have a complaint against any other, our response should not be a distancing through negative speech and giving up on relationships.

Our response should be to seek one another out that we may find peace and offer forgiveness as we are forgiven by the Lord. Our response in the body of Christ should be different than the response that might come from within a secular gathering. Our calling is to demonstrate the way of Jesus to the world, and the way we treat each other is an important part of doing just that.

But just as we are broken, so was Jesus broken. And just as he is resurrected, we are resurrected. By his grace, we are redeemed and raised to new life. By his overcoming of death, we can overcome the pockets of life-killing imperfection in our life as the body of Christ. Through his forgiveness we can find the strength and courage and grace to forgive one another.

When Jesus calls us together, he calls us to new life, and he unites us with the gift of sacraments, the gift of the holy community, the gift of his Spirit, that together we can be the best expression of his body on earth. Together our hands can be his hands that heal the sick, give food to the hungry, and comfort those who sorrow. Our mouths can be his mouth, praying for the lonely, speaking to the shunned, advocating for the forgotten. Our feet can be his feet, taking the long way to include the excluded, stepping into public places to make his presence known, walking along side those who are seeking the presence of God in their lives. Together we can be his one body.

Sunday, October 3, 2010

A Living Vision


Matthew 26:26-29
Habakkuk 1:1-4, 2:1-4

Habakkuk opens with a complaint. If you are ever apologetic in your speech to God about the problems you face, the struggles you see in the world, let Habakkuk change your mind a little. “O LORD, how LONG shall I cry for help?” he begs. There’s no tip-toeing around how he feels about the state of the world. He cries out about the violence he sees. To him it seems that God is inactive, uncaring about the suffering of the world. Laws have become meaningless since their power to protect is weakened. Justice is non-existent since the righteous are hemmed in by the wicked. The world, in his eyes, is going to hell in a hand basket, and despite all the crying and all the begging he is doing before God nothing seems to be stopping it.

If the clues he has given us lead us to the correct conclusion, Habakkuk was a prophet in the decade just before the devastating Babylonian conquest of Jerusalem and all of Judah. The kingdom that had been united under King David about 400 years before had later split into Israel in the north and Judah in the south. The northern kingdom, Israel, had been picked away at by Assyria the century before Habakkuk ministered, but the southern kingdom, Judah, was still relatively independent. It lay at the crossroads of the world’s powerful kingdoms of Assyria, Egypt, and Babylonia, its peace threatened as the bullies struggled to gain control of this prime piece of real estate.

Yet not only were they fought over, the people of Judah also fought among themselves. Outside influences corrupted their worship. Feelings of despair allowed them to drift away from God. Tempting alliances with larger, more powerful nations pulled them down paths of injustice toward the needy among them. The stresses on the nation turned neighbor against neighbor instead of drawing people together to find collective strength in their hardships. Everything seemed to be spiraling downward and further and further away from God and God’s vision for the world.

I remember in seminary a friend of mine was taking a class about preaching and youth. I don’t remember if she was assigned the book of Habakkuk or if she found it on her own, but I remember how she claimed that this historical context made this was one of the most relevant books of the Old Testament for our times and for our youth. That may be even more true now than it was 10 years ago.

How long, O Lord, do we have to cry for help? How long do we have witness violence in our communities and around the world? How long do we have to watch young people kill themselves because they feel there is no other option, because they feel there is no way for them to live with their sexual orientation? How long do we have to watch the intolerance of some lead to the death of others?

Why do we have to see wrongdoing and look at trouble? Why do we have to wake up each morning to read in the newspaper or hear on TV how a person in power has broken our trust yet again? Why do selfish ambition and greed seem to be in front of us more than compassion? Why are spiritual leaders abusing power and hurting those to whom they are called to minister?

Why is destruction the only answer we have to disagreement? Why are factions within communities, countries, and churches at one another’s throats? Why aren’t we able to find a way forward together instead of constantly digging in our heels? Why are we so unwilling to build consensus or even compromise in the interest of finding a third way forward out of a deadlock of ideas?

How long, O Lord, will all of this go on before you come in and save us? It is an honest question, one that has great biblical precedence. We ask it in the admirable company of the prophets of Israel, the writers of psalms, and even Jesus who cried out from the cross, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” We can afford to ask these questions because God is big enough to handle our anger. God won’t toss us aside for asking these questions.

What we can’t afford to do, though, is cry out then walk away. We can’t start this dialogue with God, begging for God’s help, God’s vision, God’s obvious activity in the world, but walk away from the relationship in frustration and disgust. That’s the way of the wicked that threatens the righteous Habakkuk talks about.

Righteousness in the Hebrew Scriptures is not about a moral code of conduct or following and impersonal set of rules. It’s not about who is naughty and who is nice. Righteousness is found in those who understand that their relationship with God is one of total dependence. It is because they know they need the grace and guidance of God in their lives that they follow God’s laws. The laws don’t make them righteous, but because they are in right relationship with God, they follow God’s laws. Righteousness is not the opposite of sinful; it is the opposite of the despair that comes from life apart from God.

When we are in right relationship with God, we can hear God’s answer to Habakkuk’s cry. We can hear what God tells him when Habakkuk says he will wait for an answer; he will stay engaged in the relationship even when the world is crumbling around him. We can hear God’s promise, not that all the devastating things we experience will magically be lifted, but that in them, through them, God is with us. We can hear God’s promise that there will be a day, someday when God’s vision will be fulfilled.

The righteous live by faith, the bold belief that the story in which we find ourselves is not the real story. The REAL story is the one of God’s power over evil, God’s salvation from sin and oppression. Righteousness means trusting in this story, the one in which God is present and reaching out to us in love and compassion. Righteousness is life lived in relationship with God, the opposite of desolation and despair that without God is what fills our beings. Even with God we can mourn and experience pain in our hearts and our lives, but with God there is also a profound sense of grace, which fills us more and eases the sorrow - - bringing an even stronger sense of peace. Staying in relationship with God, even through the desperation that plagues us when it seems like the world is crumbling, means remembering that the end of this will come, and God’s vision will be fulfilled.

As their world is crumbling Jesus shares his vision with his disciples. Huddled in an upper room, avoiding the angry authorities, but knowing it won’t be long before they come for him, Jesus shares his vision with his closest followers as they celebrate the Feast of Passover. As he hands them the bread and pours for them the wine, he gives them a glimpse of the future he has planned. This meal they are sharing is just an appetizer for the banquet they will celebrate someday in heaven. The danger they are facing, the sorrow they will experience, the pain and terror that will invade their lives, the loneliness that will blanket them, will not be the final answer; it is not the REAL story.

The REAL story takes place around a table. It is the story we tell every time we gather at this table, especially when we do it on a day when we know people all over the world are gathering with us. The REAL story of God’s love is a story of grace and forgiveness, a story of abundant provision and beautiful diversity, a story of acceptance and inclusion. It’s a story where God invites us to stay in relationship, God even feeds us with the very bread of life and cup of salvation, when all we can do is cry out “How long?” And when we stay in that relationship, when we persist through the tempting detours of despair, when we trust that God’s vision is still coming, we discover the peace of living by faith.


The meal we share today, we share with the faithful all over the world and across the barriers of time. We are sitting with the disciples themselves who were hosted by Jesus. We are sitting with the men and women of churches in the centuries before us. We are sitting with the faithful across continents today, and those who will come after us tomorrow. We are sharing this bread and this cup just as Jesus promises us we will do when someday he hosts us again at his table. Even if it is for just these few minutes, we are living completely by faith, living as if nothing else is true, but the promise of God that when we eat this bread and drink this cup we are united with Christ and with one another, the promise that no matter how desperate life gets, we will someday feast together in peace and in glory.

At this table we live the vision Jesus has for the world, a world where emptiness is filled, death is answered with resurrection, and God’s merciful love is given to all.

(Pictures from gallery of altar photos on website of Yorktown UMC, White Plains, NY)

Sunday, September 6, 2009

Keep These Words

The Israelites were getting ready to pass through the waters, and Moses had been given some last few, but very important, words to deliver. They were about to pass through the waters of the Jordan and enter into the Promised Land, but God wasn’t quite ready to let them go yet. There were a few more things they needed to hear as they got ready to live their life, redeemed and freed from slavery.

These words from Deuteronomy 6 have become some of the most important words in the Jewish faith. It wouldn’t be overstating the case to say they are the most beloved words of Scripture. Observant Jews recite these words in prayer twice a day, they are the center of their prayer services, and it is traditional for them to be spoken as a person’s last words. The passage, beginning with verse 4 is known as the “Shema” for the first Hebrew word in the passage – “Hear!” or maybe better yet, “Listen up!” The command lets us know something important is coming. The command alerted the Israelites to the center of what they needed to know as they made their way through the water.

It’s a good command for us, too, for we who have come through these baptismal waters, for we who have promised even today to care for those born, through their baptisms, into our family of faith. “Listen up!” God’s going to tell us how we should live in this family formed by the water and the Spirit.

Deuteronomy 6:1-9


At the playground recently I saw a dad waiting with his son for some space to clear up on a climbing toy. The only dad in that area, while helping his son wait patiently, he also helped some other children make their way safely to the top. Even after his little boy had reached the high platform he kept helping the others, spotting them so a potential fall wouldn’t be so dangerous, giving a hand to steady them if they got a little wobbly. Another dad came jogging up when he saw his daughter getting some assistance. He thanked the first dad, apologizing for not being there; he was chasing his other children, too. The first dad, smiled and shrugged, “Hey, we’re all in this together!”

We sure are. We’re all in this together! God’s commandment through Moses in Deuteronomy 6 doesn’t come in a little “For parents only” section of scripture. It’s not set aside for just those who are raising children in their homes. It’s not that elusive instruction manual all parents sometimes wish came with their children. It’s not just for those with the immediate responsibility of day to day care for little ones. Hear O Israel! Israel! It’s for the whole community, the whole people of God. It’s for ALL of us!

Hear, O Israel! Moses calls to all of God’s people, the whole nation, the entire community and because of this you know something very important is coming up - - Hear me! Listen to me! Listen up now! The Lord is our only God and the Lord has some important things for us to do. We are supposed to love God with all that we are and all that we have, and we show that love by following God’s command. We’re commanded to know this all by heart. We’re supposed to love God and love what we know about God. We’re supposed to keep all of this treasured inside, NOT to horde it away from others, but so that we can live it before others - - especially so that we can live it in front of our children.

This is the call and command to the community of faith. It is the community’s responsibility to teach our children about God and God’s love for us all. It is the community’s responsibility to recite these words by heart, to talk about them, to talk about God, to tell our children the stories and the promises of God’s love for them and for the world.

Sometimes it sounds daunting, I know, because we don’t know when and we don’t know how. Many of us think to ourselves, or even out loud to one another, “But I don’t know enough. Someone else speaks to the children better than I do. I’ll mess the story up, so maybe if I learn it a little better, then I’ll be able to teach it. I don’t really see a lot of children, so I don’t get the chance to teach them.”

But really, it’s not that hard! Moses tells us how we should do this - - by heart! I don’t mean memorization here, but truly by heart. We are supposed to love these kids, this children made all of ours by the waters of baptism, we’re supposed to love them so much that they know God’s love. We are supposed to love God so much you can see it coming from our hearts, hear it coming from our lips, feel it coming out of our very souls.

And when should we do all of this? Oh it’s not too hard, Moses tells us - - only when we’re home or when we’re away. Only when we’re sleeping and when we’re waking. That’s all! In other words, there isn’t a designated time. It isn’t just in Sunday School or worship. It’s not just at Networks youth ministry or Children’s Time. This is our call, this is God’s commandment to us ALL THE TIME. Loving God and teaching God’s children is our fulltime job, and we do it with the lives we live before them. We do it by holding close to God’s Word, by keeping these words in our heart and in our lives.

We do it by heart, when we choose the Way of Jesus in our thoughts, in our words, and in our actions, in the church, in our homes, in the schools, and in our communities. We do it by heart when we remember we are the family of Christ, born through the waters of baptism, sealed by the Holy Spirit, marked as Christ’s own forever, and we ACT like a loving family. We do it by heart, we hear God’s commandment and we teach it to our children, when we choose the way of love and forgiveness and justice, over fear and revenge and retribution in all that we do, wherever we are.

We keep God’s commandment to love the Lord and teach love to our children, we do it by heart, when we come to this table, the table of our Lord, Jesus our Christ. We do it when we proclaim with our lips in prayer and our hearts in humility and our faith in the action of eating this bread and drinking from this cup, that by these humble, common elements we are fed by his body and his spirit, so that we will be enlivened for his ministry. We do it by heart when we come together as the community of Christ, the family of God, not just with those who share the Lord’s Supper in this room on this day, but with all people in all times and in all places who share his body and blood through this sacrament.

We keep these words in our heart, we recite them before our children and the world, when we join together around this table, obeying the words of Jesus, “Do this in remembrance of me,” taking his very life, his very spiritual presence into our bodies to nourish our lives and our faith.

Keep these words, and share them by heart. Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength. In all that you do, and all that you are, whether you are here or there, close by or far away, working or resting, going or coming, in the church or in the world, share this love with all the generations.