The church's mission and the Lord's Supper are vitally linked. Jesus spelled out our mission when he said, "Go into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature" (Mk 16:15). The "good news" is centered in God's gift of Jesus Christ, his death and resurrection: "For if when we were enemies, we were reconciled to God through the death of His Son, much more, having been reconciled, we shall be saved by his life" (Romans 5:10). The proclamation of this good news is our mission. Paul makes the connection between this mission and the Lord's supper clear when he says, "For as often as you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes" (1 Corinthians 11:26).
It has been said that a picture is worth a thousand words. If true, the visible sermon we proclaim at the Lord's Table is far more powerful than the word spoken from the pulpit. I think my parents sensed this. At Milwaukie, when I was a boy, we had one of the best preachers around, namely Alger Fitch. Later he became nationally known among our churches as an outstanding speaker. Occasionally, we would leave church early on Sunday in order to visit my grandparents in Forest Grove. But we never left before communion. Apparently, they felt we could miss Alger's sermon but not communion. They didn't articulate this to us but as I look back, it is clear to me now how vitally important it is that the whole church gather every Lord's day to "proclaim the Lord's death" at the table.
Beyond engaging in the very essence of mission--proclaiming the redemptive sacrifice of Christ-- there is another effect of our faithful observance of the Lord's Supper. It provides the nourishment for the work of mission. Recently I reread Tom Wright's little book, The Meal Jesus Gave us. tom Wright is an Oxford lecturer, theologian, prolific writer, and Anglican pastor. In it he says, "When I was engaged in regular pastoral ministry I found that the only way I could cope with the daily demands was the daily Eucharist. There I could lay all my puzzles and problems symbolically before God and find them not removed but reshaped in the pattern of Jesus" (p 76).
Set as it is in the heart of worship, and in conjunction with the spoken word, our communion with Christ provides the renewal and resources that we need for mission as well as the opportunity to participate in the proclamation of the gospel.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Thursday, January 31, 2008
CANDLES AND COMMUNION
Isaiah was not thinking about our use of candles on the communion table but something he said helps us understand their symbolic meaning: "Arise, sine for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you" (Isa 60:1). What might these candles be saying to us about the light that has dawned upon us?
A story that I came across recently about a little candle will help us see their significance. The little candle stood in a room filled with other candles, most of them much larger and more beautiful than she was. Some were ornate and some were rather simple, like her. Some were white, some were blue, some were pink, and some were green.
When the sun went down and the room began to get dark, she noticed a man walking toward her with a match. She suddenly realized that the man was going to set her on fire. "No, no!" she cried, "Don't burn me, please!" but she knew that she could not be heard and she prepared for the pain that would surely follow.
To her surprise, the room filled with light. She wondered where it came from since the man had extinguished the match. To her delight, she realized that the light came from her. During the next few hours, she noticed that, slowly, her wax had begun to melt. She became aware that she would soon be gone. With this realization came a sense of why she had been created. She thought, "Perhaps my purpose on earth is to give out light until the end." And that's exactly what she did.
God gives each of us the opportunity to produce light in a world that needs brightening up. Like that little candle, we can produce the same amount of light, no matter how small we are or what color we might be. God has given us the source of our light in the greatest gift we will ever receive, Jesus Christ, who is the light of the world (Ruth Chavez Wallace, Pension Fund Bulletin).
Jesus, like that candle, gave out light to the very end -- in fact, it was at the end of his life that his light in a darkened world was at its brightest. It is not accidental that the churches in Revelation 1-3 are called "lampstands", holders of the light of Christ. The candles on our table remind us of our mission as well as of Him who is the light of the world. The Apostle Paul saw us actually participating in his mission, his light-giving life and death as we take communion. He put it this way: "The bread which we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ? ... the cup of blessing which we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ?" (1 Corinthians 10:15-16). As Isaiah said, let us "arise, shine for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you."
A story that I came across recently about a little candle will help us see their significance. The little candle stood in a room filled with other candles, most of them much larger and more beautiful than she was. Some were ornate and some were rather simple, like her. Some were white, some were blue, some were pink, and some were green.
When the sun went down and the room began to get dark, she noticed a man walking toward her with a match. She suddenly realized that the man was going to set her on fire. "No, no!" she cried, "Don't burn me, please!" but she knew that she could not be heard and she prepared for the pain that would surely follow.
To her surprise, the room filled with light. She wondered where it came from since the man had extinguished the match. To her delight, she realized that the light came from her. During the next few hours, she noticed that, slowly, her wax had begun to melt. She became aware that she would soon be gone. With this realization came a sense of why she had been created. She thought, "Perhaps my purpose on earth is to give out light until the end." And that's exactly what she did.
God gives each of us the opportunity to produce light in a world that needs brightening up. Like that little candle, we can produce the same amount of light, no matter how small we are or what color we might be. God has given us the source of our light in the greatest gift we will ever receive, Jesus Christ, who is the light of the world (Ruth Chavez Wallace, Pension Fund Bulletin).
Jesus, like that candle, gave out light to the very end -- in fact, it was at the end of his life that his light in a darkened world was at its brightest. It is not accidental that the churches in Revelation 1-3 are called "lampstands", holders of the light of Christ. The candles on our table remind us of our mission as well as of Him who is the light of the world. The Apostle Paul saw us actually participating in his mission, his light-giving life and death as we take communion. He put it this way: "The bread which we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ? ... the cup of blessing which we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ?" (1 Corinthians 10:15-16). As Isaiah said, let us "arise, shine for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you."
Thursday, January 24, 2008
STRENGTH IN UNITY
I have heard it said that the church is like a chain, having many individuals linked together. I don't like this image of the church because of its implications. A chain is only as strong as its weakest link. What happens in the church when the weakest link breaks? Are the rest incapacitated, as a chain would be? I don't like this image because it negates the strength of the other links. Elton Trueblood suggested that a better image would be that of a cable, consisting of many wires. If one wire becomes frayed or weakened in some way, and even if it should snap, the other wires with their combined strength would still carry on their work.
Actually, each strand is weak in itself, just as individual members of the body have their weaknesses. But, as Ecclesiastes says, "two are better than one ... and a threefold cord is not quickly broken" (4:9-12). The cable, with many strands making it stronger than any one strand, is a more scriptural image of the church. It speaks of the unity of the church, of each member supporting the others, and of the church banding together to accomplish God's will.
An example of this can be seen in Galatians 6:1-2, "Brethren, even if a man is caught in any trespass, you who are spiritual restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness; each one looking to yourself, lest you too be tempted. Bear one another's burdens, and thus fulfill the law of Christ."
The Lord's Supper symbolizes this nature of the church as it pictures unity -- the oneness in which we support each other. The Apostle Paul put it this way in 1 Corinthians 10:16-17, "Is not the cup of blessing which we bless a sharing in the blood of Christ? Is not the bread which we break a sharing in the body of Christ? Since there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread."
The very manner in which we observe the feast often speaks of this unity. In a few churches it is still the custom to use one cup for all. Occasionally, we have used one cup and individually dipped the bread. In other churches all hold the bread until all are served and they partake at the same time. When we say the confession of faith just before partaking, we say it together, as one body. All of this testifies to the strength of a united church.
Actually, each strand is weak in itself, just as individual members of the body have their weaknesses. But, as Ecclesiastes says, "two are better than one ... and a threefold cord is not quickly broken" (4:9-12). The cable, with many strands making it stronger than any one strand, is a more scriptural image of the church. It speaks of the unity of the church, of each member supporting the others, and of the church banding together to accomplish God's will.
An example of this can be seen in Galatians 6:1-2, "Brethren, even if a man is caught in any trespass, you who are spiritual restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness; each one looking to yourself, lest you too be tempted. Bear one another's burdens, and thus fulfill the law of Christ."
The Lord's Supper symbolizes this nature of the church as it pictures unity -- the oneness in which we support each other. The Apostle Paul put it this way in 1 Corinthians 10:16-17, "Is not the cup of blessing which we bless a sharing in the blood of Christ? Is not the bread which we break a sharing in the body of Christ? Since there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread."
The very manner in which we observe the feast often speaks of this unity. In a few churches it is still the custom to use one cup for all. Occasionally, we have used one cup and individually dipped the bread. In other churches all hold the bread until all are served and they partake at the same time. When we say the confession of faith just before partaking, we say it together, as one body. All of this testifies to the strength of a united church.
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
ALL THINGS NEW Psalm 47:1-2; Revelation 22:8-9
Ancient Israel marked the new year with a procession up Mount Zion to the Temple. It was a time of festive celebration. "On New Year's Day, the first rays of the sun, rising over the Mount of Olives, shone in a straight line through the outer eastern gate of the temple, then on across the temple court and over the great altar inside, between the two pillars on either side and on down the long corridor into the holy of holies, the sacred recess at the western end. These first rays of New Year's Day were called "the radiance of God" and symbolized God's entrance into the sanctuary, ... Just at this moment, the shofar or ram's horn would be sounded, and the procession would begin ..." (Jeter, Joseph R.Jr. Re/Membering, 102). As they wound their way up the hill and into the temple area they probably sang the opening of Psalm 47:
"Shout to God with loud songs of joy," they sang. Why, we ask? And the Psalmist answers: For the Lord ... is awesome, a great king over all the earth." The crops may have failed, the housing market gone sour, the war still killing men, women and children, and we failed to be and do what we intended to be and do. All of this we can see when we look back, and it can drag us down if we don't leave it behind and focus on the God who still sits on his throne -- a great king over all the earth.
This may be why the book of Revelation ends like it does. The Revelation summarizes everything that has gone before: the fall of mankind, the strife and sinfulness that followed, and the death that came upon all. But it also includes the God who sits on the throne and says, "Behold, I make all things new" (21:5). What can we do that will help us look to the future with faith and hope for fulfillment of that promise?
Hear the answer in the last chapter of The Revelation:
Two words: worship God. "The key to hope for the future lies not in resolutions, but the worship of God" (Jeter, 103). In a sense, each Lord's Day is a new year, a new beginning, and the Lord's Table is the place where we can come to worship God and hear him say once again, "Behold, I make all things new."
Clap your hands, all you peoples; shout to God with loud songs of
joy. For the Lord, the Most High, is awesome, a great king over all the
earth.
"Shout to God with loud songs of joy," they sang. Why, we ask? And the Psalmist answers: For the Lord ... is awesome, a great king over all the earth." The crops may have failed, the housing market gone sour, the war still killing men, women and children, and we failed to be and do what we intended to be and do. All of this we can see when we look back, and it can drag us down if we don't leave it behind and focus on the God who still sits on his throne -- a great king over all the earth.
This may be why the book of Revelation ends like it does. The Revelation summarizes everything that has gone before: the fall of mankind, the strife and sinfulness that followed, and the death that came upon all. But it also includes the God who sits on the throne and says, "Behold, I make all things new" (21:5). What can we do that will help us look to the future with faith and hope for fulfillment of that promise?
Hear the answer in the last chapter of The Revelation:
Now I, John, saw and heard these things. And when I heard and saw, I
fell down to worship before the feet of the angel who showed me these
things. Then he said to me, '"See that you do not do that. For I am
your fellow servant, and of your brethren the prophets, and of those who keep
the words of this book. Worship God!"
Two words: worship God. "The key to hope for the future lies not in resolutions, but the worship of God" (Jeter, 103). In a sense, each Lord's Day is a new year, a new beginning, and the Lord's Table is the place where we can come to worship God and hear him say once again, "Behold, I make all things new."
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
The Cradle and the Cross Luke 2:25-35
Hurting is not uncommon at Christmas-time. I know that we like to have a Christmas of lights and songs of rejoicing and praising, but even the communion table reminds us that pain is also involved. It reminds us that Jesus was born to die. It reminds us that the cradle in a stable is joined by the cross on a hill as symbols that summarize who Jesus was and why he came. The cradle and the cross can not be separated.
We realize this when we read all of Luke's account of Jesus' birth and infancy. In the first two chapters of Luke we see the beautiful story of Jesus' birth -- Mary's song, his birth in a manger, angels singing, and shepherds praising. But then Luke tells us a story that foreshadows the pain and suffering of the cross, not to Jesus only, but also to his mother, Mary. Shortly after Jesus was born Mary and Joseph took him to the temple to "present him to the Lord," since the law stated that every first born male belonged to the Lord. There they came across an old man named Simeon who had been told by the Holy Spirit that he would not die until he saw the Lord's Messiah. When he saw Jesus Simeon took him in his arms, raised his eyes to heaven and declared, "my eyes have seen Your salvation." But when he handed Jesus back to Mary he said, "This baby is appointed for the fall and rise of many in Israel, and for a sign to be opposed -- and a sword will pierce even your own soul" (2:34-35).
John Killinger, pastor and professor of preaching, tells of how those words were driven into his soul. He and his family were in Spain, in a museum, standing before one of the great Spanish crucifixion scenes. The painting, like so many Spanish works of art, was dark and brooding, unlike the sunlit plains of Spain. Christ hung on the cross. In the lower foreground a woman knelt. "Who is that?" asked their six year old. "That's Mary, Jesus' mother," we explained. He was quiet for a second or two and then he said, very solemnly, "that must have hurted her." Since then, Killinger says, "I have not been able to read Simeon's words to Mary, "a sword will pierce through your own soul also" without remembering that observation (Fundamentals of Preaching, 121).
Luke has hardly finished telling the story of Jesus' birth in a stable than he elicits the image of a cross and the pain and suffering it brought to Mary. Jesus was born to die. The cradle and the cross cannot be separated.
At the Lord's Table, as we remember how Jesus suffered on our behalf, may we also remember Mary, and many others -- even today -- who know him as friend, as teacher, and as Lord who also suffer and, in some way, enter into the pain of the cross.
We realize this when we read all of Luke's account of Jesus' birth and infancy. In the first two chapters of Luke we see the beautiful story of Jesus' birth -- Mary's song, his birth in a manger, angels singing, and shepherds praising. But then Luke tells us a story that foreshadows the pain and suffering of the cross, not to Jesus only, but also to his mother, Mary. Shortly after Jesus was born Mary and Joseph took him to the temple to "present him to the Lord," since the law stated that every first born male belonged to the Lord. There they came across an old man named Simeon who had been told by the Holy Spirit that he would not die until he saw the Lord's Messiah. When he saw Jesus Simeon took him in his arms, raised his eyes to heaven and declared, "my eyes have seen Your salvation." But when he handed Jesus back to Mary he said, "This baby is appointed for the fall and rise of many in Israel, and for a sign to be opposed -- and a sword will pierce even your own soul" (2:34-35).
John Killinger, pastor and professor of preaching, tells of how those words were driven into his soul. He and his family were in Spain, in a museum, standing before one of the great Spanish crucifixion scenes. The painting, like so many Spanish works of art, was dark and brooding, unlike the sunlit plains of Spain. Christ hung on the cross. In the lower foreground a woman knelt. "Who is that?" asked their six year old. "That's Mary, Jesus' mother," we explained. He was quiet for a second or two and then he said, very solemnly, "that must have hurted her." Since then, Killinger says, "I have not been able to read Simeon's words to Mary, "a sword will pierce through your own soul also" without remembering that observation (Fundamentals of Preaching, 121).
Luke has hardly finished telling the story of Jesus' birth in a stable than he elicits the image of a cross and the pain and suffering it brought to Mary. Jesus was born to die. The cradle and the cross cannot be separated.
At the Lord's Table, as we remember how Jesus suffered on our behalf, may we also remember Mary, and many others -- even today -- who know him as friend, as teacher, and as Lord who also suffer and, in some way, enter into the pain of the cross.
Friday, December 7, 2007
A TIME TO FORGET Philippians 3:13-14
At the Lord's Table we often speak of remembering, and of course, we should, if for no other reason than that Jesus said, "Do this in remembrance of me."
On the other hand, when we come to the table it should also be a time of forgetting. We must not only remember God's saving grace in Christ, seen on the cross, but we must also forget the past mistakes and failures that keep us from accepting His grace and moving on toward the future that god has for us.
Anyone who competes in athletic games knows the importance of forgetting. I make a lot of bad shots as a golfer but I can't dwell on them -- I have to focus on the next shot. When the American gymnast, Paul Hamm, fell after vaulting he had to forget it and concentrate on the next event. Anyone who lives in the past will lose his future.
Paul was looking to the future when he wrote in Philippians 3:13-14, Brethren, I do not count myself to have apprehended; but one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead, I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus."
At the Lord's Table we see with double vision. We look to the past and remember his sacrifice on our behalf, but we also look to the future and anticipate our destiny with Him. As Paul put it in 1 Corinthians 11, speaking of our action in the Lord's Supper, "We proclaim the Lord's death until he comes." Remembering his death and what it means for us helps to wipe out the memory of our failures. It frees us to look to the future, to "press on toward the goal" that Christ sets before us.
On the other hand, when we come to the table it should also be a time of forgetting. We must not only remember God's saving grace in Christ, seen on the cross, but we must also forget the past mistakes and failures that keep us from accepting His grace and moving on toward the future that god has for us.
Anyone who competes in athletic games knows the importance of forgetting. I make a lot of bad shots as a golfer but I can't dwell on them -- I have to focus on the next shot. When the American gymnast, Paul Hamm, fell after vaulting he had to forget it and concentrate on the next event. Anyone who lives in the past will lose his future.
Paul was looking to the future when he wrote in Philippians 3:13-14, Brethren, I do not count myself to have apprehended; but one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead, I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus."
At the Lord's Table we see with double vision. We look to the past and remember his sacrifice on our behalf, but we also look to the future and anticipate our destiny with Him. As Paul put it in 1 Corinthians 11, speaking of our action in the Lord's Supper, "We proclaim the Lord's death until he comes." Remembering his death and what it means for us helps to wipe out the memory of our failures. It frees us to look to the future, to "press on toward the goal" that Christ sets before us.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Table Talk 2 -- Lord's or Servants? Luke 22:14-20, 24-27
The "words of institution" are often used with the Lord's Supper but they are seldom used in context. That is, no attention is paid to what else Jesus said at the table that evening. I mentioned previously that part of the table talk that night focused on betrayal and failure. The next topic Jesus found necessary to address was whether his disciples would be Lords or Servants.
Most of Jesus' teaching during his ministry focused on the Kingdom of God -- its nature and purpose. His disciples were interested because they, like most Jews, longed for the restoration of the Kingdom to Israel. They saw in Jesus a Messiah who could free them from Roman oppression and lead them to the glory and power of the Kingdom. Then, one day, Jesus began to tell them that he must go to Jerusalem and be killed. The Gospel writers make it clear that the twelve disciples, prior to the resurrection, never understood this. A crucified Messiah did not fit with their kingdom expectations.
These two subjects, the Kingdom and his death, came together in Jesus' table talk at the Passover meal. First, Luke tells us he spoke of the kingdom: "With fervent desire I have desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer; for I say to you, I will no longer eat of it until it is fulfilled in the kingdom of God (22:15-18). For emphasis Jesus said it twice. Then he spoke of his death: "And he took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them saying, 'This is My body which is given for you; do this in remembrance of Me.' Likewise He also took the cup after supper saying, 'This cup is the new covenant in My blood, which is shed for you" (22:19-20).
Again, they completely missed the point. He had hardly finished speaking before a debate broke out among them. Thinking only of the coming Kingdom and their place in it they began to argue, not for the first time, about which of them was the greatest. And again, he had to remind them that "the leader is like one who serves ... and I am among you as one who serves" (vs 27).
We know that in the world of politics even the greatest leaders spend much of their time and resources on getting re-elected. Position, status, power, and authority are all that matter. But, Jesus points out, it is not that way in God's Kingdom. The only way up is down. The only way to lead is to serve. The only way to greatness is through lowly servitude.
Is Jesus speaking to us in his table talk at the Passover meal? Is he speaking to us at the communion table, wanting us to forsake our status seeking, our lordly ambitions, and like him become a servant of all? Is he asking us to make that kind of sacrifice? There was a cross in his future. Is there a cross in ours? If we take him seriously, there may be, for did he not say, "If any want to become my disciples let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me" (Luke 8:23).
When we use the words of institution it would be well to keep in mind what else Jesus said at the table.
Most of Jesus' teaching during his ministry focused on the Kingdom of God -- its nature and purpose. His disciples were interested because they, like most Jews, longed for the restoration of the Kingdom to Israel. They saw in Jesus a Messiah who could free them from Roman oppression and lead them to the glory and power of the Kingdom. Then, one day, Jesus began to tell them that he must go to Jerusalem and be killed. The Gospel writers make it clear that the twelve disciples, prior to the resurrection, never understood this. A crucified Messiah did not fit with their kingdom expectations.
These two subjects, the Kingdom and his death, came together in Jesus' table talk at the Passover meal. First, Luke tells us he spoke of the kingdom: "With fervent desire I have desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer; for I say to you, I will no longer eat of it until it is fulfilled in the kingdom of God (22:15-18). For emphasis Jesus said it twice. Then he spoke of his death: "And he took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them saying, 'This is My body which is given for you; do this in remembrance of Me.' Likewise He also took the cup after supper saying, 'This cup is the new covenant in My blood, which is shed for you" (22:19-20).
Again, they completely missed the point. He had hardly finished speaking before a debate broke out among them. Thinking only of the coming Kingdom and their place in it they began to argue, not for the first time, about which of them was the greatest. And again, he had to remind them that "the leader is like one who serves ... and I am among you as one who serves" (vs 27).
We know that in the world of politics even the greatest leaders spend much of their time and resources on getting re-elected. Position, status, power, and authority are all that matter. But, Jesus points out, it is not that way in God's Kingdom. The only way up is down. The only way to lead is to serve. The only way to greatness is through lowly servitude.
Is Jesus speaking to us in his table talk at the Passover meal? Is he speaking to us at the communion table, wanting us to forsake our status seeking, our lordly ambitions, and like him become a servant of all? Is he asking us to make that kind of sacrifice? There was a cross in his future. Is there a cross in ours? If we take him seriously, there may be, for did he not say, "If any want to become my disciples let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me" (Luke 8:23).
When we use the words of institution it would be well to keep in mind what else Jesus said at the table.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
OUR RICHES IN CHRIST
Janice Lemke, with her husband Corey, is a missionary in Ukraine. She is always looking for a good story and she found one in a church in Kirovskaya, and then shared it in her weekly email update. In her words:
Cory likes to be early (his definition of "on time") and while waiting for things to get going, I decided to talk to an old woman who sat alone in the sanctuary. She greeting me warmly and I figured she might be good for a story or two to pass the time.
She's 89 years old, but details about World War II were just as clear to her as though it happened last month. It was a time of fear and hunger. Even though her father was a Christian, he had a position of authority on a collective farm. And even though Christians were supposed to keep their faith to themselves, he said one day, "Anyone who knows how to pray, you may go to the church and pray today for an end to this war." She recalled how they walked to the village, got down on their knees, and prayed with weeping. The next day, they heard no planes or bombs. The war was over.
When she was 40, she was expecting another child. The doctors told her she was too old and must have an abortion. She told them, "I have never even killed a kitten. How can I kill my own child?" Her daughter grew up to be a sweet and gentle woman who has a daughter who attends Bible college.
Her son lives in Germany. Her daughter does too. "They all do," she said. They wrote to say that life is easier there, and they wanted her to move there with them. She refused. "I have everything here I need," she said. "I have a garden and some chickens. I am very rich. I don't need anything more."
Her words challenged me more than any sermon I heard that day. Her clothes obviously came from some humanitarian aid box. On her feet, she wore dirty sandals with baggy boy's athletic socks with a red stripe and a hole in the heel. And her smell, frankly, told me she doesn't have hot water or a washing machine. Yet, Janice concluded, she says, "I have everything I need. I am very rich." (Lemke Update, 7/23/2005).
Reading this story led me to Proverbs 10:22, "The blessing of the Lord makes one rich, and He adds no sorrow with it." As we come to the Lord's Table we can be thankful for the riches we receive here. As Paul explained in 2 Corinthians 8:9, For you know the generous act of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich."
At His table we both celebrate and receive the richness of His grace. His love, and His forgiveness. No wonder the Lord's Supper is called "eucharist" in Greek -- it is the Great Thanksgiving.
Cory likes to be early (his definition of "on time") and while waiting for things to get going, I decided to talk to an old woman who sat alone in the sanctuary. She greeting me warmly and I figured she might be good for a story or two to pass the time.
She's 89 years old, but details about World War II were just as clear to her as though it happened last month. It was a time of fear and hunger. Even though her father was a Christian, he had a position of authority on a collective farm. And even though Christians were supposed to keep their faith to themselves, he said one day, "Anyone who knows how to pray, you may go to the church and pray today for an end to this war." She recalled how they walked to the village, got down on their knees, and prayed with weeping. The next day, they heard no planes or bombs. The war was over.
When she was 40, she was expecting another child. The doctors told her she was too old and must have an abortion. She told them, "I have never even killed a kitten. How can I kill my own child?" Her daughter grew up to be a sweet and gentle woman who has a daughter who attends Bible college.
Her son lives in Germany. Her daughter does too. "They all do," she said. They wrote to say that life is easier there, and they wanted her to move there with them. She refused. "I have everything here I need," she said. "I have a garden and some chickens. I am very rich. I don't need anything more."
Her words challenged me more than any sermon I heard that day. Her clothes obviously came from some humanitarian aid box. On her feet, she wore dirty sandals with baggy boy's athletic socks with a red stripe and a hole in the heel. And her smell, frankly, told me she doesn't have hot water or a washing machine. Yet, Janice concluded, she says, "I have everything I need. I am very rich." (Lemke Update, 7/23/2005).
Reading this story led me to Proverbs 10:22, "The blessing of the Lord makes one rich, and He adds no sorrow with it." As we come to the Lord's Table we can be thankful for the riches we receive here. As Paul explained in 2 Corinthians 8:9, For you know the generous act of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich."
At His table we both celebrate and receive the richness of His grace. His love, and His forgiveness. No wonder the Lord's Supper is called "eucharist" in Greek -- it is the Great Thanksgiving.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Table Talk 1 - Jesus Knows Our Failures
Every Sunday at communion time we hear the words of institution from Matthew, Mark, Luke or 1 Corinthians but Jesus had much more to say than that. His table talk that Passover evening, according to Luke, included both challenging and puzzling words. Luke 22:19-23 says,
Then he took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying, "This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me." And he did the same with the cup after supper, saying, "This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood. But see, the one who betrays me is with me, and his hand is on the table. For the Son of Man is going as it has been determined, but woe to that one by whom he is betrayed!" Then they began to ask one another which one of them it could be who would do this.
These words are puzzling because Judas, who was sitting right there, had already made arrangements to betray Jesus and Jesus knew it. Why didn't Jesus just name him? Instead, he made all of them wonder which one of them could do this. Matthew shows us how personally each of them took this as he says, "And they became greatly distressed and began to say to him one after another, 'surely, not I Lord'?"
Jesus knew, of course, how they would respond when the test came. Peter would deny him three times and the others would flee in fear. Jesus knew that it was not Judas only who would leave that covenant meal and go out to abandon the sacred loyalty involved in that meal. They were all capable of fracturing the sacred trust and forsaking the loyalty that they pledged in eating the bread and drinking the cup with Jesus. Jesus knew that they were all capable of this and that is why he did not simply name Judas as the culprit -- it was something all of them faced.
And so do we. We will face many tests when we leave this table and go back to life in the world.
We will be tested on how we handle this world's wealth -- will we serve God or mammon. We will be tested on our relationships. He taught us to love unconditionally -- will we allow hatred, or prejudice, or hurt feelings to crowd out that love? We will be tested on our priorities. He taught us to seek first the Kingdom of God -- will we seek first the fulfillment of our own desires?
Jesus knows the answer about us as well as he knew it about Peter and the others. He knows that we too will fail him. We can join in Paul's confession in Romans 7, "I do what I don't want to do and I don't do what I want to do."
Just as He sought Peter and the others after the resurrection and sat down to eat with them again, so he seeks us. He knows our failures but he still loves us. It is precisely because we fail that we need to meet him here again each Lord's Day and hear him say, "this my body given for you ... my blood shed for the forgiveness of sins." The Lord's Supper is our great ritual of renewal, our act of re-commitment. It is our chance, once again, to express our loyalty and receive his forgiveness and thus experience renewal. Will you express your loyalty to Him now by saying with me our confession of faith?
A communion meditation for Twin Oaks Christian Church, November 4, 2007.
Then he took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying, "This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me." And he did the same with the cup after supper, saying, "This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood. But see, the one who betrays me is with me, and his hand is on the table. For the Son of Man is going as it has been determined, but woe to that one by whom he is betrayed!" Then they began to ask one another which one of them it could be who would do this.
These words are puzzling because Judas, who was sitting right there, had already made arrangements to betray Jesus and Jesus knew it. Why didn't Jesus just name him? Instead, he made all of them wonder which one of them could do this. Matthew shows us how personally each of them took this as he says, "And they became greatly distressed and began to say to him one after another, 'surely, not I Lord'?"
Jesus knew, of course, how they would respond when the test came. Peter would deny him three times and the others would flee in fear. Jesus knew that it was not Judas only who would leave that covenant meal and go out to abandon the sacred loyalty involved in that meal. They were all capable of fracturing the sacred trust and forsaking the loyalty that they pledged in eating the bread and drinking the cup with Jesus. Jesus knew that they were all capable of this and that is why he did not simply name Judas as the culprit -- it was something all of them faced.
And so do we. We will face many tests when we leave this table and go back to life in the world.
We will be tested on how we handle this world's wealth -- will we serve God or mammon. We will be tested on our relationships. He taught us to love unconditionally -- will we allow hatred, or prejudice, or hurt feelings to crowd out that love? We will be tested on our priorities. He taught us to seek first the Kingdom of God -- will we seek first the fulfillment of our own desires?
Jesus knows the answer about us as well as he knew it about Peter and the others. He knows that we too will fail him. We can join in Paul's confession in Romans 7, "I do what I don't want to do and I don't do what I want to do."
Just as He sought Peter and the others after the resurrection and sat down to eat with them again, so he seeks us. He knows our failures but he still loves us. It is precisely because we fail that we need to meet him here again each Lord's Day and hear him say, "this my body given for you ... my blood shed for the forgiveness of sins." The Lord's Supper is our great ritual of renewal, our act of re-commitment. It is our chance, once again, to express our loyalty and receive his forgiveness and thus experience renewal. Will you express your loyalty to Him now by saying with me our confession of faith?
A communion meditation for Twin Oaks Christian Church, November 4, 2007.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
THE TABLE OF GRACE
Do you expect to receive something for nothing? Or do you expect to pay for what you get? Do you remember the commercial used by a brokerage house some years back that went something like this: "We make money the old fashioned way; we earn it." It's a commendable ethic and we applaud it.
But aren't there some things we cannot earn? Don't we receive gifts that are completely free, even undeserved every day? Men, how about that time when you tracked mud over your wife's just cleaned kitchen floor, and she let you stay in the house anyway? Or what about a bird's beautiful solo in the early morning (although I could do without that raucous crow)? Or what about the other gifts of God's creation -- beautiful fall colors, brilliant rainbows, and bountiful harvests? Did we earn them? Aren't they in some way simply unearned, even undeserved gifts?
That is the meaning of "grace". The classic theological definition is "unmerited favor," receiving God's favor even though it is totally unearned and undeserved. The word translates the Greek word "charis" which means simply a "gift". At the center of our world is a God who gives gift after gift after gift. Paul understood how important grace is in our lives and said in Romans 3:23-24, "all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God [but we are] justified as a gift by his grace through the redemption in Christ Jesus."
Paul uses a legal term, "justified," in this text. Thomas Long, professor of preaching at Emory University commented on this when he said in a sermon that in one of his courses in seminary he was assigned to spend some time in criminal court, simply observing what was happening there. He quickly learned that criminal court is not like Judge Judy or the People's Court or Perry Mason. In a real criminal court, most of the defendants have been there a number of times and the real question for them is not will they be found guilty or innocent -- most of them are expecting to be found guilty. The question for them is, 'who's the judge in court today?' Some judges are hard and tough and some are compassionate and kind, and they're hoping for a judge with some mercy.
The apostle Paul is using the language of the court in this text and he seems to see us standing there, knowing that we are guilty and wondering, 'who's the judge today?'. And then the door to the chambers opens and the judge is none other than Jesus Christ, who died for us and loved us to the end and loves us still and is our advocate. And the verdict that day is a surprise. We know we are guilty but the verdict is, "innocent!"
So we come to the communion table, this table of grace, with thanksgiving as it reminds us of the verdict made possible through the sacrifice of Christ on our behalf. At this table we understand why John Newton wrote, "amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me." We come to this table as sinners, but we leave with Paul's words in Romans 8:1 ringing in our ears: "There is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus."
But aren't there some things we cannot earn? Don't we receive gifts that are completely free, even undeserved every day? Men, how about that time when you tracked mud over your wife's just cleaned kitchen floor, and she let you stay in the house anyway? Or what about a bird's beautiful solo in the early morning (although I could do without that raucous crow)? Or what about the other gifts of God's creation -- beautiful fall colors, brilliant rainbows, and bountiful harvests? Did we earn them? Aren't they in some way simply unearned, even undeserved gifts?
That is the meaning of "grace". The classic theological definition is "unmerited favor," receiving God's favor even though it is totally unearned and undeserved. The word translates the Greek word "charis" which means simply a "gift". At the center of our world is a God who gives gift after gift after gift. Paul understood how important grace is in our lives and said in Romans 3:23-24, "all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God [but we are] justified as a gift by his grace through the redemption in Christ Jesus."
Paul uses a legal term, "justified," in this text. Thomas Long, professor of preaching at Emory University commented on this when he said in a sermon that in one of his courses in seminary he was assigned to spend some time in criminal court, simply observing what was happening there. He quickly learned that criminal court is not like Judge Judy or the People's Court or Perry Mason. In a real criminal court, most of the defendants have been there a number of times and the real question for them is not will they be found guilty or innocent -- most of them are expecting to be found guilty. The question for them is, 'who's the judge in court today?' Some judges are hard and tough and some are compassionate and kind, and they're hoping for a judge with some mercy.
The apostle Paul is using the language of the court in this text and he seems to see us standing there, knowing that we are guilty and wondering, 'who's the judge today?'. And then the door to the chambers opens and the judge is none other than Jesus Christ, who died for us and loved us to the end and loves us still and is our advocate. And the verdict that day is a surprise. We know we are guilty but the verdict is, "innocent!"
So we come to the communion table, this table of grace, with thanksgiving as it reminds us of the verdict made possible through the sacrifice of Christ on our behalf. At this table we understand why John Newton wrote, "amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me." We come to this table as sinners, but we leave with Paul's words in Romans 8:1 ringing in our ears: "There is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus."
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
The Longest Table
Matthew 26:20 says, "When evening came, Jesus was reclining at the table with the twelve."The table Jesus and his disciples used in the upper room was probably quite low, u-shaped, and they reclined on cushions. Through the years you can imagine how many different kinds of tables have been used. Many are like ours -- plain, simple, just large enough to do the job and with "In Remembrance of Me" on the front to tell us that this table is different.
Curious about table styles, I looked on the Internet and found a wide variety. One that caught my attention because it was designed by a famous Scottish architect, Rennie Macintosh, whose work we saw while in Glasgow, is in a Church of Scotland he designed. It is of moderate size, somewhat plain, with a rather stark but beautiful simplicity and easily identified as his design by its distinctive lines.
On the other hand, I have had communion in the ruins of ancient Corinth and in mountain youth camps where only what nature provided, a rock, a stump, even the ground, served as our table.
Our son and family attend a church in Spokane that has a unique 
table. It is rather long because there is indented across the entire front of the table a carving of the last supper. It is one of the longest tables I have seen.
Lee Magness points out how appropriate a long table is. He begins by describing his grandmother's Christmas dinner table. He says, "It stretched through the dining room to the living room of her old farmhouse. It was so long there was a place for all her children, and grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. It was so long that there was room for folks far from home -- Ireland, Germany, even Tennessee....That table was so long that it was never full until family members who sat there in years gone by were brought back by a fond remembrance or a hilarious memory of Christmases past. It was Christmas at grandmother's house, and it was the longest table I had ever seen." Then he adds, "But I came to know different, or better. The Communion table is the longest table in the world. And I know just how far it stretches" (Lee Magness, Christian Standard, June 10, 2007).
Yes, we know just how long this table is. It stretches from here to the poor in Calcutta's slums, to the affluent in Anglican Cathedrals, and to the weary warriors in Iraq. It has room for the peasant farmer of Brazil, the beaded Maasai woman of Kenya, the immigrant laborer from South America, and the socialite from New York. There is always room for more at this table, and all of our relations in Christ are welcome. It is the longest table in the world.
It certainly has room for us and Jesus invites us to come, to eat this broken bread, his body given for us; to drink this cup, his blood shed for us. Come to the Thanksgiving Table, the longest table in the world.
Saturday, October 6, 2007
WHEN DOES GOD STOP FORGIVING?
Forgiveness is such a hard thing sometimes and yet Jesus was clear on its necessity when he said that God would forgive our sins if we forgive others and would not forgive us if we did not forgive others (Matthew 6:14-15). Peter asked, "how many times shall we forgive? Seven times?" Jesus answered: "Seventy times seven!" (Matthew 18:21-22). Think of how many times God forgives us. Our accumulated sins would add up to much more than 490 and yet, every Sunday, at the Lord's Table we remember his words: "This is my blood of the new covenant, which is shed for many for the forgiveness of sins (Matthew 26:28).
A rabbi was scheduled to speak on forgiveness, says Rachel Remen in My Grandfather's Blessings, "but instead he walked out into the congregation, took his infant daughter from his wife, and carrying her in his arms, stepped up to the podium. The little girl was perhaps a year old and she was adorable. From her father's arms she smiled at the congregation. Every heart melted. Turning to her daddy, she patted him on the cheek with her tiny hands. He smiled fondly at her and with his customary dignity began a rather traditional Yom Kuppur sermon.
The baby girl, feeling his attention shift away from her, reached forward and grabbed his nose. Gently he freed himself and continued the sermon. After a few minutes, she took his tie and put it in her mouth. The entire congregation chuckled. The rabbi rescued his tie and smiled at his child. She put her tiny arms around his neck. Looking at us over the top of her head, he said, "Think about it. Is there anything she can do that you could not forgive her for?" Throughout the room people began to nod in recognition, thinking perhaps of their own children and grandchildren. Just then, she reached up and grabbed his eyeglasses. Everyone laughed out loud.
Retrieving his eyeglasses and settling them on his nose, the rabbi laughed as well. Still smiling, he waited for silence. When it came he asked, "And when does that stop? When does it get hard to forgive? At three? At seven? At fourteen? At thirty-five? How old does someone have to be before you forget that everyone is a child of God?" (p 99).
Does God ever forget that we are his children? When does God stop forgiving? At a certain number of sins, or at a certain age? Of course not! If the Lord's Supper says anything at all it says, "come as you are, co0me with your sins and guilt, come at any age and at any time with faith and repentance, and receive this cup and hear again his words, "this is my blood ... shed for the forgiveness of sins."
A rabbi was scheduled to speak on forgiveness, says Rachel Remen in My Grandfather's Blessings, "but instead he walked out into the congregation, took his infant daughter from his wife, and carrying her in his arms, stepped up to the podium. The little girl was perhaps a year old and she was adorable. From her father's arms she smiled at the congregation. Every heart melted. Turning to her daddy, she patted him on the cheek with her tiny hands. He smiled fondly at her and with his customary dignity began a rather traditional Yom Kuppur sermon.
The baby girl, feeling his attention shift away from her, reached forward and grabbed his nose. Gently he freed himself and continued the sermon. After a few minutes, she took his tie and put it in her mouth. The entire congregation chuckled. The rabbi rescued his tie and smiled at his child. She put her tiny arms around his neck. Looking at us over the top of her head, he said, "Think about it. Is there anything she can do that you could not forgive her for?" Throughout the room people began to nod in recognition, thinking perhaps of their own children and grandchildren. Just then, she reached up and grabbed his eyeglasses. Everyone laughed out loud.
Retrieving his eyeglasses and settling them on his nose, the rabbi laughed as well. Still smiling, he waited for silence. When it came he asked, "And when does that stop? When does it get hard to forgive? At three? At seven? At fourteen? At thirty-five? How old does someone have to be before you forget that everyone is a child of God?" (p 99).
Does God ever forget that we are his children? When does God stop forgiving? At a certain number of sins, or at a certain age? Of course not! If the Lord's Supper says anything at all it says, "come as you are, co0me with your sins and guilt, come at any age and at any time with faith and repentance, and receive this cup and hear again his words, "this is my blood ... shed for the forgiveness of sins."
Thursday, September 6, 2007
Discerning the Body 1 Corinthians 11:29-30
Sometimes you have to work a little hard to avoid divisions in the church. This was probably true at Corinth. We know that the church in New Testament times met in homes. We also know that Chloe, mentioned by Paul in 1 Corinthians, was one of the more affluent members of the church. Her home, possibly where the church met, could well fit those discovered by archaeologists. It would have an enclosed atrium, open to the sky, with a small pool in the center to catch rain water and room for no more than 15 to 20 people. A door would lead into a larger room that contained a U-shaped table for dining. Another 20 people might fit around this table. You can see how this physical arrangement might contribute to problems of division if more than 20 people attended.
When the house church at Corinth met it was to have the Lord's Supper as part of a love-feast, something like our potluck meal. But they had a problem. At least Paul thought so. He said to them in 1 Cor. 11: "... when you come together as a church, I hear that divisions exist among you (18) ... for in your eating each one takes his own supper first ... do you despise the church of God and shame those who have nothing?" (21-22).
There were poor and needy, even slaves among them. Since the church met in the evening, and it was a normal working day, not everyone could get there early. Those who came early would claim the dining room while late-comers would be in the atrium. Some had plenty of food and others went hungry; some ate without waiting for others and failed to share what they had.
A few verses later Paul states the consequence of this non-caring, divisive behavior as he says, "All who eat and drink without discerning the body eat and drink judgment against themselves. For this reason many of you are weak and ill ..." (29-30 NRSV). The were not "discerning the body". What does that mean? To "discern" is to look at something carefully with the eyes or with the mind. When I go to the pantry to find a certain product I have to look carefully and note the differences in size, color, label, etc. in order to find what I want (even then, my wife says, I have a hard time seeing what is there). Paul is saying, 'you Corinthians are not looking carefully at each other. You are letting your own selfish desires blind you to the needs and problems of others.' They were concerned about themselves but not the body as a whole.
We too can come to the Lord's Table thinking only of our own needs, not caring about others. In our individualistic culture we tend to shut out others and their needs. Steve Richardson, college professor and minister, tells of a lady in a nursing home who had a bad week. She was a loving, caring, gentle friend who had received bad news about people she cared for. In fact, several things that week had troubled her and she found herself feeling teary when she came to the communion service held at the home. As the elements were being passed the pianist played a hymn that had been the favorite hymn of her beloved grandmother. Suddenly, the emotions of the week hit her all at once and she began sobbing -- loudly -- not just a quiet flow of tears, but intense and obvious. Whereupon the woman behind her said, "Oh, shut up and drink your juice!"
We would certainly not be so crude, but when we partake do we think only of ourselves, or do we "discern the body?" Are we concerned and care about others and the problems they have, or are we, like Corinth, uncaring and divided?
When the house church at Corinth met it was to have the Lord's Supper as part of a love-feast, something like our potluck meal. But they had a problem. At least Paul thought so. He said to them in 1 Cor. 11: "... when you come together as a church, I hear that divisions exist among you (18) ... for in your eating each one takes his own supper first ... do you despise the church of God and shame those who have nothing?" (21-22).
There were poor and needy, even slaves among them. Since the church met in the evening, and it was a normal working day, not everyone could get there early. Those who came early would claim the dining room while late-comers would be in the atrium. Some had plenty of food and others went hungry; some ate without waiting for others and failed to share what they had.
A few verses later Paul states the consequence of this non-caring, divisive behavior as he says, "All who eat and drink without discerning the body eat and drink judgment against themselves. For this reason many of you are weak and ill ..." (29-30 NRSV). The were not "discerning the body". What does that mean? To "discern" is to look at something carefully with the eyes or with the mind. When I go to the pantry to find a certain product I have to look carefully and note the differences in size, color, label, etc. in order to find what I want (even then, my wife says, I have a hard time seeing what is there). Paul is saying, 'you Corinthians are not looking carefully at each other. You are letting your own selfish desires blind you to the needs and problems of others.' They were concerned about themselves but not the body as a whole.
We too can come to the Lord's Table thinking only of our own needs, not caring about others. In our individualistic culture we tend to shut out others and their needs. Steve Richardson, college professor and minister, tells of a lady in a nursing home who had a bad week. She was a loving, caring, gentle friend who had received bad news about people she cared for. In fact, several things that week had troubled her and she found herself feeling teary when she came to the communion service held at the home. As the elements were being passed the pianist played a hymn that had been the favorite hymn of her beloved grandmother. Suddenly, the emotions of the week hit her all at once and she began sobbing -- loudly -- not just a quiet flow of tears, but intense and obvious. Whereupon the woman behind her said, "Oh, shut up and drink your juice!"
We would certainly not be so crude, but when we partake do we think only of ourselves, or do we "discern the body?" Are we concerned and care about others and the problems they have, or are we, like Corinth, uncaring and divided?
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Our Daily Work Matthew 16:24
A painting by the twentieth century artist, Stanley Spencer, conveys the truth that sacrificial loving is our daily work. Spencer lived in the small English village of Cookham and did all of his religious paintings there. Cookham became the location, for instance, of his painting, "Christ Carrying His Cross." The usual shops line the main street -- bakery, butcher, tea room, and others. People are all around, going about their business and there, walking up the street is Jesus, carrying his cross.
The striking thing about the picture, says Daniel Taylor who saw it in a London show of Spencer's paintings, is that no one in the street is looking at him. "All are going about their business, including two workmen following behind Christ carrying ladders that intersect each other in a way that mirrors Christ's cross ... . Spencer depicts Christ as he does -- walking through the streets of an ordinary village with his cross, like the workmen with their ladders -- to show ... that 'sacrificial loving is daily work, and joyful work at that.' Jesus is just doing his job (or the job, as Spencer insists), the thing he came to do ...." (Daniel Taylor. In Search of Sacred Places, 51-52).
Jesus had a job to do. Even as a boy he knew this, for he told his parents when they found him in the temple, "I must be about my Father's business." Later, on three different occasions, he told his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and be crucified. Then, in Luke 9:51 we are told that "He set his face (or was determined) to go to Jerusalem" -- and to the cross. Sacrificial loving was his work. He had a job to do.
And so do we. In the painting two workmen follow Jesus carrying ladders that intersect to look like a cross. Its as if they are following his admonition in Matthew 16:24, "If anyone wishes to come after me, he must deny himself, and take up his cross and follow me."
In the painting all of this takes place in the center of human activity -- on main street -- amidst the busyness of ordinary pursuits. This is where living by the cross becomes meaningful, not just in church or in a separated place, but in everyday life. On the job, in the home, on the playground -- sacrificial loving is our daily work.
We are reminded of this each Sunday at the Lord's Table when we take the stuff of everyday life, the fruit of the vine and bread and hear once more his words: "This is my body ... this is my blood ... for you."
The striking thing about the picture, says Daniel Taylor who saw it in a London show of Spencer's paintings, is that no one in the street is looking at him. "All are going about their business, including two workmen following behind Christ carrying ladders that intersect each other in a way that mirrors Christ's cross ... . Spencer depicts Christ as he does -- walking through the streets of an ordinary village with his cross, like the workmen with their ladders -- to show ... that 'sacrificial loving is daily work, and joyful work at that.' Jesus is just doing his job (or the job, as Spencer insists), the thing he came to do ...." (Daniel Taylor. In Search of Sacred Places, 51-52).
Jesus had a job to do. Even as a boy he knew this, for he told his parents when they found him in the temple, "I must be about my Father's business." Later, on three different occasions, he told his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and be crucified. Then, in Luke 9:51 we are told that "He set his face (or was determined) to go to Jerusalem" -- and to the cross. Sacrificial loving was his work. He had a job to do.
And so do we. In the painting two workmen follow Jesus carrying ladders that intersect to look like a cross. Its as if they are following his admonition in Matthew 16:24, "If anyone wishes to come after me, he must deny himself, and take up his cross and follow me."
In the painting all of this takes place in the center of human activity -- on main street -- amidst the busyness of ordinary pursuits. This is where living by the cross becomes meaningful, not just in church or in a separated place, but in everyday life. On the job, in the home, on the playground -- sacrificial loving is our daily work.
We are reminded of this each Sunday at the Lord's Table when we take the stuff of everyday life, the fruit of the vine and bread and hear once more his words: "This is my body ... this is my blood ... for you."
Thursday, August 23, 2007
His Broken People 2 Corinthians 6:9-11
If this seems a little strange at first, bear with me. I want to begin with one of Shel Silverstein's humorous poems, but one that leads to a profound concept:
Hector the Collector
Hector the Collector collected bits of string
Collected dolls with broken heads and rusty bells that would not ring.
Pieces out of picture puzzles, bent-up nails and ice-cream sticks,
Old chipped vases, half shoelaces, Gatlin' guns that wouldn't shoot,
Leaky boats that wouldn't float and stopped up horns that wouldn't toot.
Butter knives that had no handles, copper keys that fit no locks,
Rings that were too small for fingers, dried-up leaves and patched-up socks.
Worn out belts that had no buckles, 'lectric trains that had no tracks,
Airplane models, broken bottles, three-legged chairs and cups with cracks.
Hector the Collector loved these things with all his soul --
Loved them more than shining diamonds, loved them more than glistenin' gold.
Hector called to all the people, "Come and share my treasure trunk!"
And all the silly sightless people came and looked ...
and called it junk.
(Shell Silverstein. Where the Sidewalk Ends)
Jesus tended to collect broken people, people who were marred and scarred by failings of all kinds. Peter the impetuous, Simon the insurgent, Matthew the tax collector, a woman of the streets, and many others. Later when Paul looked at the composition of the church in Corinth he said to them:
"Do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived. Neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor male prostitutes, nor sodomites, nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners will inherit the kingdom of God. And such were some of you." Sounds a little like Hector the Collector. God gathered a bunch of broken people, sinners, and called them saints, for as Paul went on to say: "But you were washed, ... sanctified ... justified in the name of the Lord Jesus and by the Spirit of our God." As much as Hector loved his collection, God loves us more -- and the "silly sightless" world doesn't understand.
But here we are, washed by the blood of Christ and in the waters of baptism, gathered at this table as his broken people made whole by the power of Jesus Christ. If I may quote Paul again, "Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift" (2 Corinthians 9:15).
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
'GO -- YOU ARE SENT OUT" John 20:21
On the first day of the week, after the resurrection, Jesus met with his disciples, very likely in the upper room where the Last Supper took place, and reminded them of their commission: "As the Father has sent me, I also send you."
That commission was uppermost in my mind last week because I attended the Week of Missions at Winema, a beach-front conference center on the central coast of Oregon. Among the missionaries were Bernie and Kelly Bledsoe from Kansas who serve with the Christian Missionary Fellowship in the Ivory Coast, West Africa. He is a Doctor and she assists in the clinic they operate. He moved us deeply with his passion for working with those infected with HIV and Aids. Mike and Lida Sweeney, with Pioneer Bible Translators in Papua New Guenea, are truly pioneers in a sometimes hostile environment. He is now the professor of missions at Emmanuel School of Religion in Tennessee. We also heard reports of work among Russians and Mongols in Irkutsk, Russia, among Chinese in Hong Kong, and new church planting in New England.
As I thought about the missionary messages at the conference it occurred to me that the Lord's Supper is missionary in nature. Not that everyone who partakes is meant to go off to Kenya or some other place. Rather, in the generic sense, as we partake we receive the benefits of God's missionary action in Sending Christ, and we are reminded once again that we are God's "sent out" people.
One of the names that came to be used for the Lord's Supper when Greek replaced Latin reflects the missionary significance of the supper. Sometime late in the second or early in the third century Latin replaced Greek as the language use in the church. Tom Wright explains, "...the end of the meal would be signaled by the person presiding saying, 'Go -- you are sent out.' This ... is a powerful part of the whole event, as those who have fed upon the death and risen life of King Jesus are equipped to serve him in the world. The Latin for this phrase is, 'ite -- missa est.' From this there developed the word 'Mass', the meal that ends with this sending-out, this commissioning" (Tom Wright, The Meal Jesus Gave Us, 36).
While we do not call this event by a Latin name, we recognize its connection to the great commission of Jesus to "go into all the world and preach the gospel." Each time we partake we are involved in and commit ourselves once more to God's mission in some way.
However, I fear that we have lost this sense of being sent out -- commissioned -- perhaps by moving the Lord's Supper away from the end of the service and highlighting the sermon. It might be well for us at times to have the Lord's Supper last and recapture the sense of mission it contains.
On this first day of the week as we meet with him at his table, may we also hear him saying to us, "Go -- you are sent out" -- to be my people in this world.
(Used at Twin Oaks Christian Church, August 12, 2007).
That commission was uppermost in my mind last week because I attended the Week of Missions at Winema, a beach-front conference center on the central coast of Oregon. Among the missionaries were Bernie and Kelly Bledsoe from Kansas who serve with the Christian Missionary Fellowship in the Ivory Coast, West Africa. He is a Doctor and she assists in the clinic they operate. He moved us deeply with his passion for working with those infected with HIV and Aids. Mike and Lida Sweeney, with Pioneer Bible Translators in Papua New Guenea, are truly pioneers in a sometimes hostile environment. He is now the professor of missions at Emmanuel School of Religion in Tennessee. We also heard reports of work among Russians and Mongols in Irkutsk, Russia, among Chinese in Hong Kong, and new church planting in New England.
As I thought about the missionary messages at the conference it occurred to me that the Lord's Supper is missionary in nature. Not that everyone who partakes is meant to go off to Kenya or some other place. Rather, in the generic sense, as we partake we receive the benefits of God's missionary action in Sending Christ, and we are reminded once again that we are God's "sent out" people.
One of the names that came to be used for the Lord's Supper when Greek replaced Latin reflects the missionary significance of the supper. Sometime late in the second or early in the third century Latin replaced Greek as the language use in the church. Tom Wright explains, "...the end of the meal would be signaled by the person presiding saying, 'Go -- you are sent out.' This ... is a powerful part of the whole event, as those who have fed upon the death and risen life of King Jesus are equipped to serve him in the world. The Latin for this phrase is, 'ite -- missa est.' From this there developed the word 'Mass', the meal that ends with this sending-out, this commissioning" (Tom Wright, The Meal Jesus Gave Us, 36).
While we do not call this event by a Latin name, we recognize its connection to the great commission of Jesus to "go into all the world and preach the gospel." Each time we partake we are involved in and commit ourselves once more to God's mission in some way.
However, I fear that we have lost this sense of being sent out -- commissioned -- perhaps by moving the Lord's Supper away from the end of the service and highlighting the sermon. It might be well for us at times to have the Lord's Supper last and recapture the sense of mission it contains.
On this first day of the week as we meet with him at his table, may we also hear him saying to us, "Go -- you are sent out" -- to be my people in this world.
(Used at Twin Oaks Christian Church, August 12, 2007).
Monday, July 23, 2007
CUP OF SORROW -- CUP OF BLESSING
Charles Rennie Mackintosh table, Holy Trinity Church, Bridge of Allan, Scotland.The cup in scripture often symbolizes judgment, wrath, and suffering. When Jesus prayed in Gethsemane, "If it be possible, let this cup pass from me," he was visualizing the suffering and death that would come as he took upon himself the guilt and consequences of our sin. He knew Isaiah's prophecy that spoke of the suffering servant as "a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief" (Isa 53:3). For him at this moment, the cup was a cup of sorrow.
On the other hand, the cup Jesus drank from is spoken of by Paul in different terms as he wrote in 1 Corinthians 10:16, "The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not a sharing of the blood of Christ?" The cup of sorrow has become the cup of blessing.
Henri J. Nouwen, a Catholic Priest assigned to a community home for mentally and physically handicapped people in Canada, spoke of what he called a lively memory connected with the cup of sorrow becoming the cup of blessing. One of the handicapped members, Trevor, had to spend a few months in a mental hospital near Toronto for psychological evaluation. Nouwen decided to go see Trevor and called the chaplain to ask if he could visit his friend. The chaplain welcomed him and asked if he would mind meeting with some ministers and priests in the area and some members of the hospital staff for lunch. Nouwen agreed without thinking much about the implications of the request.
When he arrived for the luncheon a large group was waiting for him -- but no Trevor. "I came here to visit Trevor," he said. "Can you tell me where I can find him?" The chaplain explained that he could see him after lunch. Nouwen was stunned and asked, "But didn't you invite him for lunch?" "No," the chaplain explained, "staff and patients cannot have lunch together. Moreover, we have reserved the Golden Room for this occasion, and no patient has ever been allowed in that room. It is for staff only." "Well," said Nouwen, "I will only have lunch with you all when Trevor can be there too. We are very close and I came here to see him, and I am sure he would love to join us for lunch."
They found Trevor and brought him in, but the atmosphere was quite subdued and solemn. Before the meal Nouwen helped Trevor get a coke from the drinks table where others were also helping themselves. As the meal was about to begin, Trevor suddenly stood up and with a loud voice and a big smile, lifted his glass of Coke and said, "Ladies and gentlemen, a toast!" Everyone dropped their conversation and turned to Trevor with puzzled and anxious faces, wondering, 'what is this patient going to do? Better be careful.'
But Trevor knew what he was doing. He looked at everyone and said, "Lift your glasses." Everyone obeyed. And then, as if it were the most obvious thing to do, he started to sing: "When you're happy and you know it, lift your glass. When you're happy and you know it, lift your glass ... " As he sang, people's faces relaxed and started to smile. Soon a few joined Trevor in his song, and not long after everyone was standing, singing loudly under Trevor's direction.
Trevor's toast, Nouwen said, radically changed the mood in the Golden Room. He had brought these strangers together and made them feel at home. With his unique blessing, Trevor had set the tone for a joyful and fruitful meeting. The cup of sorrow had become the cup of blessing. (Henri J.M. Nouwen, Can You Drink The Cup?, 63f).
The communion cup represents both the sorrow and suffering that Jesus experienced and the blessing that we experience through his sacrifice. As we take it maybe we should take a page from Trevor's example and say, "When you're blessed and you know it, lift your cup." "This cup of blessing which we bless, is it not a sharing in the blood of Christ?"
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
The Pursuit of Happiness Hebrews 12:2
Thinking about the Lord's Supper and the Fourth of July brings to my mind two puzzling statements, one in the Declaration of Independence and one in Hebrews 12:2. The puzzling phrase in the Declaration of Independence is found in the philosophical heart of that document: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness."
The phrase that puzzled me is: "the pursuit of happiness." It could easily be understood as self-centered, focused on personal pleasure, even hedonistic. Surely that isn't what Jefferson meant. I came to understand it when I learned the educational and philosophical context in which it was written.
The Declaration of Independence was written and signed by men who had been highly influenced by the Scottish enlightenment. In fact, fully 1/3 of the signers were of Scottish or Ulster Scott extraction. They were familiar with and had been influenced by the teachings of Francis Hutcheson of Glasgow who was known as the founding father of the Scottish enlightenment.
He believed that every one's ultimate goal in life is happiness, but for him this meant not the gratification of physical desires but making others happy. "That action is best," he said, "which procures the greatest happiness," and the highest form of happiness is making others happy.
A recent scientific experiment at the University of Oregon, reported in Eugene's Register Guard newspaper, supports this idea. A number of people were given money and the opportunity to give it away or to keep it. Their brains were monitored and it was discovered that voluntarily giving to help others produced a response in the part of the brain that registers pleasure.
Haven't you found it to be true that when you do something that makes someone else happy it produces happiness in you also? Like seeing your child open a gift, or seeing a young person blossom as a result of your teaching. Doesn't it make you happy to see slides by a missionary of someone being baptized in Kenya, or children singing enthusiastically in a Ukrainian church camp, knowing that your gifts help make this possible? On the other hand, the more self centered, the more we try to make ourselves happy by hoarding or spending on ourselves, the more miserable we are.
Jimmy Durante's gravelly voice in Sleepless in Seattle said it in song: "Make someone happy, make just one someone happy, and you will be happy too."
This helps us understand the puzzling statement about Jesus in Hebrews 12:2 which says, "... for the joy set before him he endured the cross ..." It seems strange to put joy and enduring the cross together in the same sentence, but its true that when Jesus went to the cross he was in "the pursuit of happiness" -- yours and mine! The happiness of forgiven sin, of cleansing and renewal. The happiness of reconciliation and hope. All of this he secured for us on the cross. Thus, it was "for the joy set before him that he endured the cross." We experience again that joy every time we join him at the communion table.
The phrase that puzzled me is: "the pursuit of happiness." It could easily be understood as self-centered, focused on personal pleasure, even hedonistic. Surely that isn't what Jefferson meant. I came to understand it when I learned the educational and philosophical context in which it was written.
The Declaration of Independence was written and signed by men who had been highly influenced by the Scottish enlightenment. In fact, fully 1/3 of the signers were of Scottish or Ulster Scott extraction. They were familiar with and had been influenced by the teachings of Francis Hutcheson of Glasgow who was known as the founding father of the Scottish enlightenment.
He believed that every one's ultimate goal in life is happiness, but for him this meant not the gratification of physical desires but making others happy. "That action is best," he said, "which procures the greatest happiness," and the highest form of happiness is making others happy.
A recent scientific experiment at the University of Oregon, reported in Eugene's Register Guard newspaper, supports this idea. A number of people were given money and the opportunity to give it away or to keep it. Their brains were monitored and it was discovered that voluntarily giving to help others produced a response in the part of the brain that registers pleasure.
Haven't you found it to be true that when you do something that makes someone else happy it produces happiness in you also? Like seeing your child open a gift, or seeing a young person blossom as a result of your teaching. Doesn't it make you happy to see slides by a missionary of someone being baptized in Kenya, or children singing enthusiastically in a Ukrainian church camp, knowing that your gifts help make this possible? On the other hand, the more self centered, the more we try to make ourselves happy by hoarding or spending on ourselves, the more miserable we are.
Jimmy Durante's gravelly voice in Sleepless in Seattle said it in song: "Make someone happy, make just one someone happy, and you will be happy too."
This helps us understand the puzzling statement about Jesus in Hebrews 12:2 which says, "... for the joy set before him he endured the cross ..." It seems strange to put joy and enduring the cross together in the same sentence, but its true that when Jesus went to the cross he was in "the pursuit of happiness" -- yours and mine! The happiness of forgiven sin, of cleansing and renewal. The happiness of reconciliation and hope. All of this he secured for us on the cross. Thus, it was "for the joy set before him that he endured the cross." We experience again that joy every time we join him at the communion table.
Friday, June 22, 2007
Getting Rid of the Bad Stuff -- 1 John 1:9
Occasionally, I like to read Shell Silverstein's, A Light in the Attic. I enjoy his wit and wisdom, and his amusing rhymes often express important thoughts. For instance, this one that could illustrate on of Jesus' teachings: "Fancy Dive."
The fanciest dive that ever was dove
was done by Melissa of Coconut Grove.
She bounced on the board and flew into the air.
With a twist of her head and a twirl of her hair.
She did thirty-four jackknives, backflipped and spun,
quadruple gainered, and reach for the sun,
and then somersaulted nine times and a quarter --
and looked down and saw that the pool had no water.
Apparently, she had not learned that it is best to look before you leap. Jesus, in effect, was saying to those who would be his disciples to look before they leap when he said in Luke 14:28, "For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not sit down first and count the cost, whether he has enough to finish it." Jesus had counted the cost of what he was doing and knew that it would lead to the cross. He wanted disciples who also understood this.
Silverstein also deals with the question of how to get rid of sin in our lives in this short poem called "Hinges."
If we had hinges on our heads
there wouldn't be no sin,
'cause we could take the bad stuff out
and leave the good stuff in.
We all need to take the bad stuff out and leave the good stuff in. since we don't have hinges, how can we do this? John's words in 1 John 1:9 can help: "If we confess our sins he is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." He goes on to say, in chapter 2, "If anyone sins, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous. He Himself is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not for ours only, but also for the whole world."
In these verses, forgiveness and cleansing from sin is promised through the combined action of our confession and the atoning sacrifice of Christ. These come together at the communion table. What better place is there than this for us to confess our sins to Him and to receive the promised forgiveness through his shed blood? As he said in the upper room, "This cup is the new covenant in my blood which is poured out for the forgiveness of sins." Therefore, in the words of Hebrews 4:16, Let us come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need."
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
"COMMUNION" AND "COMMUNITY" John 15:13
For ten years straight I helped lead High School age trail camps in the Eagle Cap Wilderness area of the Wallowa Mountains in Northeastern Oregon for the Christian Churches. After several years, during an evaluation session with other leaders, we came to the conclusion that our most successful camps were those that were held when the weather was the poorest. The difficulties that snow and rain presented (even in late August) led the campers to depend on each other more and work together better, resulting in a stronger sense of community.
In a much greater way, the challenges, danger and difficulties that soldiers face in military conflicts have led them to develop a closeness they would not have known otherwise. Tomorrow we remember one of those occasions. Sixty three years ago, on June 6, 1944, a mighty armada crossed a narrow strip of sea from England to Normandy and cracked the Nazi grip on Western Europe. The men who landed at Normandy and survived developed a remarkable bond.
One of the most haunting stories to come out of the 2nd World War of how community was brought about through sacrifice was told by Ernest Gordon, a British army officer who was captured by the Japanese and assigned to building the Burma-Siam railway. He tells in his book, To End All Wars, of joining a detail of prisoners to build a track bed through low-lying swamp land. If a prisoner appeared to lag, a guard would beat him to death or decapitate him. For most of the war, the prison camp had served as a laboratory of survival of the fittest, with every man for himself. Men lived like animals, and for a long time hate was the main motivation to stay alive.
But something happened to bring about a change. A guard discovered that a shovel was missing. When no one confessed to the theft, he screamed, "All die! All die!" and raised his rifle to fire at the first man in line. At that instant an enlisted man stepped forward and said, "I did it!" Enraged, the guard raised his rifle high in the air and brought the butt down upon his head in a crushing blow, killing him.
That evening when tools were inventoried again, the work crew discovered a mistake had been made: no shovel was missing. One of the prisoners remembered the verse, "Greater love has no man than this, than to lay down one's life for his friends." Attitudes in the camp began to shift. With no prompting, prisoners began looking out for each other rather than themselves. It was the beginning of community, a band of brothers (Philip Yancey, Christianity Today, September 2003).
"Communion" and "community" have the same root meaning. They mean fellowship, oneness and imply a group of people who work, laugh and cry together -- and sometimes, it is crying together that creates the strongest bonds. People who look out for each other, people who, as Paul says, "bear one another's burdens" become a band of brothers and sisters in Christ. Of course, it was the sacrifice of Christ on our behalf that brought our community of faith into being. Sin said, like that guard, "ALL DIE!" but Jesus said, "NO, I WILL DIE FOR ALL."
His sacrifice has brought us together, at this table, into this fellowship we call church, and we stay together as we take up our cross and follow him.
In a much greater way, the challenges, danger and difficulties that soldiers face in military conflicts have led them to develop a closeness they would not have known otherwise. Tomorrow we remember one of those occasions. Sixty three years ago, on June 6, 1944, a mighty armada crossed a narrow strip of sea from England to Normandy and cracked the Nazi grip on Western Europe. The men who landed at Normandy and survived developed a remarkable bond.
One of the most haunting stories to come out of the 2nd World War of how community was brought about through sacrifice was told by Ernest Gordon, a British army officer who was captured by the Japanese and assigned to building the Burma-Siam railway. He tells in his book, To End All Wars, of joining a detail of prisoners to build a track bed through low-lying swamp land. If a prisoner appeared to lag, a guard would beat him to death or decapitate him. For most of the war, the prison camp had served as a laboratory of survival of the fittest, with every man for himself. Men lived like animals, and for a long time hate was the main motivation to stay alive.
But something happened to bring about a change. A guard discovered that a shovel was missing. When no one confessed to the theft, he screamed, "All die! All die!" and raised his rifle to fire at the first man in line. At that instant an enlisted man stepped forward and said, "I did it!" Enraged, the guard raised his rifle high in the air and brought the butt down upon his head in a crushing blow, killing him.
That evening when tools were inventoried again, the work crew discovered a mistake had been made: no shovel was missing. One of the prisoners remembered the verse, "Greater love has no man than this, than to lay down one's life for his friends." Attitudes in the camp began to shift. With no prompting, prisoners began looking out for each other rather than themselves. It was the beginning of community, a band of brothers (Philip Yancey, Christianity Today, September 2003).
"Communion" and "community" have the same root meaning. They mean fellowship, oneness and imply a group of people who work, laugh and cry together -- and sometimes, it is crying together that creates the strongest bonds. People who look out for each other, people who, as Paul says, "bear one another's burdens" become a band of brothers and sisters in Christ. Of course, it was the sacrifice of Christ on our behalf that brought our community of faith into being. Sin said, like that guard, "ALL DIE!" but Jesus said, "NO, I WILL DIE FOR ALL."
His sacrifice has brought us together, at this table, into this fellowship we call church, and we stay together as we take up our cross and follow him.
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