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.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
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.
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