"INTO YOUR HAND"

For some time now I have often thought about death. Not in a morbid, depressing sense but with the realization that death is a greater reality to me than ever before. Both Frances and I have lost our parents and all but one of our 9 brothers and sisters. Also, we have outlived many long-time friends. And, of course, these old bodies of ours ‘ain’t what they used to be.’

At night I have a routine of reading for a while and then, after turning off the light, I often pray a couple of poems. One of them you know quite well. It begins, “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want …”, and continues, “though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil, for you are with me.” The other is a modern poem by Jane Kenyon titled, “Let Evening Come,” (Jane Kenyon Collected Poems, St Paul, Graywolf Press, 2005)

Let the light of late afternoon

shine through chinks in the barn, moving

up the bales as the sun moves down.

Let the cricket take up chafing

as a woman takes up her needles

and her yarn. Let evening come.

Let dew collect on the hoe abandoned

in long grass. Let the stars appear

and the moon disclose her silver horn.

Let the fox go back to its sandy den.

Let the wind die down. Let the shed

go black inside. Let evening come.

To the bottle in the ditch, to the scoop

in the oats, to air in the lung

Let evening come.

Let it come, as it will, and don’t

be afraid. God does not leave us

comfortless, so let evening come.

Thinking about this, it occurred to me that Jesus had a poem on his mind in the hour of his death. The poem is Psalm 31. It begins, “In you, O Lord, do I take refuge.” It goes on to say, “You take me out of the net they have hidden for me, for you are my refuge.” And then comes the line he quoted as he hung on the cross: “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” With his dedication to the will of his father and his knowledge of the psalms, He must have prayed this same prayer many times throughout his life.

In doing so, he has given us a model for both living and dying. This is a prayer that all of us can say. Whether young or old, weak or strong, sick or healthy – in any and all circumstances – his prayer can be our prayer.

A few hours before going to the cross Jesus said to his disciples, “this bread is my body,” and “this cup is my blood … do this in remembrance of me.” What better way is there to remember him than to make his prayer our prayer. As we take communion today, we too can pray with him, “Father into your hands I commit my spirit.”

AT THE RIGHT TIME

                Time is an intriguing topic. We make up sayings about it, like: “Time flies when you’re having fun.” That may be, but it seems to me, and many others like me, that it should say: “time flies as you get older.” Prince Charles of England agrees. He said recently, “Anyone of my age knows that days pass at a far greater speed than when they were young” (Reader’s Digest, March 2019).

                I am speaking of chronological time, the relentless passing of minutes, days, hours and years. The Greeks called this kind of time Kronos, and we get the word “chronology” from it.  Kronos time is measured in units like minutes and hours, days and years. It is quantitative and linear.

                But those clever Greeks knew that time has more than one aspect, so they had several words for it. One of those, used several times in the Bible, was Kairos. Kronos time is informed by the passing of minutes, but Kairos time is informed by the emergence of meaning. It is qualitative and carries significance. An event happens at a particular time, but it may have such great meaning that a “moment” in time becomes “momentous,” and lives on.

                Jesus knew that a “momentous” time was coming in his life. He referred to it and used both Kairos and Kronos in one sentence. It is found in John 7:6, at a point in his ministry when many Jews were going to Jerusalem for the Feast of Tabernacles. His brothers were going and urged him to go along but he refused, knowing that Jewish authorities in Jerusalem were looking for a chance to kill him. He responded to his brothers by saying, “My time has not yet come, but your time is always here.” Jesus knew that the time to die was not right yet. Paul reflected on this when he said in Romans 5:6,8, “While we were still helpless, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly,” and he adds, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” His death was one of those momentous events referred to with the word Kairos.

                Such events do not just happen and then sink out of sight in the flowing stream of time. They live on. They stay with us. They change our world and our lives. Sadly, the most significant lasting moments in history often contain something tragic. Remember what FDR said about Dec 7, 1941, Pearl Harbor day: he called it, “a date which will live in infamy”. And it has. In our own lifetime, 9/11/2001 is another day that will live on. It too, changed our lives.

                The Christ event was such a day. It was an event of powerful meaning that has reached through time and shapes our lives even today. Like Pearl Harbor and 9/11 the time of Christ changed our world. But there is one big difference. The tragedy of his death, unlike Pearl Harbor and 9/11 did not lead to war but to redemption. It resulted in forgiveness and salvation for multitudes of people ever since. Jesus knew it would and said so in the upper room when he said: “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, shed for the forgiveness of sins.” And, “this bread is my body, given for you.”

OUR HOST: THE GOOD SHEPHERD

                Let’s think about Jesus and the Lord’s supper as seen in the 23^rd Psalm.

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want;

He makes me lie down in green pastures;

He leads me beside still waters.

He restores my soul.

                Who is this shepherd? Jesus said, “I am the good shepherd; the good shepherd gives his life for the sheep” (John 10:11). He exemplified the good shepherd of the psalm one day when thousands followed him to a lonely place near the Sea of Galilee. Mark says that when Jesus saw them, he was moved with compassion because “they were sheep without a shepherd.” Like the psalmist’s shepherd, he had them recline on green grass. Then he fed them. In his description, Mark uses the same four Eucharistic verbs that he used to describe the last supper. Jesus “took” the bread, “blessed it,” and “broke” it, and “gave it” to them. Thus, they were nourished for their journey.

                The psalm goes on:

He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil. For you are with me.

Your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;

You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.

                Jesus, the good shepherd, often ate in the presence of his enemies. When he dined with Simon the Pharisee, with Zacheus the tax collector, and with others, his critics watched. But some were more than critics. Some wanted him dead.

                The Lord knows full well that today we must make our journey through the dangers of dark valleys and through the wilderness of this world in the presence of many enemies. Paul names them in Ephesians 6. He   calls them “the spiritual hosts of wickedness.” But our shepherd-host defies them. He prepares a table before us and invites us to share in the meal that commemorates Him and His victory over those very enemies.

                And so we partake of the broken bread, his body, and of the cup, his blood shed for us, and then we leave, firm in the assurance of the psalm’s closing words:

Surely, goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,

And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

1/27/2019

TO LIFE!

                When I open Facebook, it always asks, “What’s on your mind, George?” I was tempted recently to answer with one word, “Death,” to see what the response would be. It’s true, however, I do think of death rather often, for several reasons. One, because its in the news – graphically and repeatedly. I should stop watching the news, but I won’t. I am reminded of death also because of my age. The longer I live the more friends and family members I lose. Another reason I think of death is that both my daughter and my wife have had near death experiences. One doesn’t forget things like that.

                My reading also leads me to think about death. Some books I read are mysteries, which always focus on someone’s death. A book I am re-reading now is not a mystery, but it speaks of death often. It is titled, My Grandfather’s Blessings. Stories of Strength, Refuge, and Belonging, by Dr Rachel Naomi Remen, a medical doctor who works with cancer patients. One of them had survived 3 major surgeries in only 5 months. He described himself to her afterward as being “born again.” She asked him what he meant, and he said the experience of facing his death had challenged his ideas about life. He was stripped of all that he knew, all of those ideologies and philosophies that he had built his life on, and was “left only with the unshakable conviction that life itself was holy.” She commented, “he had discovered that we live not by choice but by grace. And that life itself is a blessing” (p 325).

                As I thought about this it occurred to me that Jesus must have thought something like this when he faced death during his ministry. He knew that he would not die for a Pharisaic ideology – or for any other ideology people build their lives on – and  certainly not any of the polarizing “isms” that divide us today. He was very clear about why he came, which was also why he had to die. He said it plainly in John 10:10-11, “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly. I am the good shepherd; the good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” If you read through John’s Gospel you will find over and over again that its all about life. He opens by saying, “In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God,” and quickly adds, “In him was life and the life was the light of all people.” And he continues throughout the Gospel to show us the one who said “I am the way the truth and the life… “ and “I am the resurrection and the life.”

                The cancer patient was right. Life is holy, and it is ours by grace.  This broken bread and the cup remind us of the life Jesus gave that we might live. It would be appropriate when we lift the cup to use the traditional Jewish toast that says simply, “To Life!”

THE LONGEST TABLE

                Today is World Wide Communion Sunday and Christians all over the world have gathered at the Lord’s Table to remember Jesus Christ.

                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 of a home was probably quite low, U shaped, and they reclined on cushions.

          

      As Christianity spread around the world many kinds of tables have been used. I like this simple yet elegant table that the Scottish architect Rennie Mackintosh designed for a church in Glasgow, Scotland.

                Our table in Corinth where Paul taught about the Lord’s Supper was unique. On a Sunday morning our tour group sat on the ground and used a flat rock for a table as we had communion.  Also, in youth camps I have had communion where only what nature provided – a rock, a stump, even the ground – served as our table.

                In Spokane, our son’s family attended a church that had an exceptionally long table. It was long because there is indented across the entire front of the table a carving of the last Supper.

                Thinking of long tables, a writer in the Christian Standard magazine once pointed out how appropriate a long table can be. 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 added: “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).

                You and I also know how long this table is, don’t we? It stretches from here to the poor in Calcutta’s slums, to the affluent in Anglican Cathedrals, and to the weary warriors in the Mid-East. It has room for the peasant farmers of India, 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 are welcome. It is the longest table in the world.

                Certainly, it 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.

LOVING HEARTS LIVE LONGER

                Recently, in a newspaper medical column by Dr Oz, I saw this catchy sentence: “Loving hearts live longer.” He cited studies that say married couples live longer, on average, than single people. Maybe that’s why Frances and I can celebrate our 69^th anniversary today. We have spent 69 years in what I sometimes think of as an assisted living arrangement. Dr Oz went on quickly to say that it isn’t just married couples, its anyone who has close, open, honest relationships with other people who live longer.

                What Dr Oz said is not new. The preacher in Ecclesiastes spoke of it long ago when he wrote: Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their labor. For if they fall, one will lift up his companion. But woe to him who is alone when he falls, for he has no one to help him up. Again, if two lie down together, they will keep warm; but how can one be warm alone? Though one may be overpowered by another, two can withstand him. And a threefold cord is not quickly broken (4:9-12).

                The same concept can be seen in Paul’s description of the church, especially in 1 Corinthians 12 where he speaks of how members of the body lift one another up. He says, “members should have the same care for one another. If one member suffers, all the members suffer with it; or if one member is honored, all the members rejoice with it (25-26).” Earlier, in chapter 10 Paul uses a rich, Greek word for this relationship. It’s the word, KOINONIA, and it means “fellowship,” “participation,” or, as several versions say in verses 16-17, “communion.” He says, “the bread which we bless, is it not the communion of the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not the communion of the body of Christ? For we, though many, are one bread and one body; for we all partake of that one bread.” Though we are many, yet we are one body. This is close to marriage language – the two become one. The many have something in common that makes them one.

                Through our years in the church, Frances and I have experienced how loving hearts are one in Christ and lift each other up. One example: We were in Oklahoma for seminary, two thousand miles from home, no family around, no way to communicate with family, not even a telephone, and our first child was born. I sent a telegram to tell the folks at home. Frances got sick in the hospital and had to stay for over a week. To go home, she needed more help than I could give her by myself. Our immediate families couldn’t help, but the family of God could, and did. Good friends stepped in, took her home and gave her and Gary the care they needed for a few days.  This is “koinonia,”, loving hearts, the church, in action.

                The Lord’s supper as “communion,” as an expression of koinonia, points to what the church is, a collection of loving hearts. And the result is life, long life, both here and hereafter.

"THIS IS MY BLOOD ... "

                In the OT laws about food and drink one of the best known says that blood was absolutely forbidden (Lev 17:10-14). Consequently, a complex system of kosher butchering was designed with its chief aim being that no blood should remain in the animal and so risk being eaten or drunk.

                In light of this prohibition, statements by David and later by Jesus are remarkable. David’s came when he was at war with Philistines who were encamped in his home town of Bethlehem. He was hot and thirsty and was heard to say how much he would like to have water from the well at Bethlehem – which was of course inaccessible due to the Philistines. But that didn’t stop three of his stalwart fighting men. They broke through the Philistine army, got water from the well at Bethlehem and brought it back to David. But David didn’t drink it. His shrewd sense of political judgment was even sharper than his thirst. “God forbid,” he said, “that I should drink the blood of these men, who went at risk of their lives” (2 Sam 23:17). He didn’t want to profit from their readiness to put their lives on the line for him. To drink the water would be equivalent to drinking their blood. He couldn’t, and he wouldn’t do that. He poured the water on the ground (N.T. Wright, John For Everyone, 85).

                Jesus also spoke about drinking blood. Although he did not speak literally anymore than David did, his words were even more shocking and remarkable. In John 6 Jesus says to a skeptical crowd, “I’m telling you the solemn truth. Anyone who believes in me has eternal life. I am the bread of life…. And the bread which I shall give is my flesh, given for the life of the world…. I’m telling you the solemn truth, if you don’t eat the flesh of the son of man, and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Anyone who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day.”

                Whereas David refused to profit from the risk of life made by the young men by drinking the water, which would be like drinking their blood, Jesus wants everyone to profit from the sacrifice of his life. “Easily the best explanation for this,” says N.T. Wright, is that John understands Jesus’ language here to refer to the eucharist, the Lord’s supper, the sacrament in which Jesus’ body and blood are, in a mysterious way, offered to believers to be eaten and drunk” (Wright, 86).

                Paul put it in concisely in 1 Cor 10:16: “The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not a sharing in the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not a sharing in the body of Christ?” I don’t understand this mystery, but it seems to all come down to faith. As Jesus said, “Anyone who believes in me has eternal life. I am the bread of life.”  Do you believe? If so, let us confess our faith and receive his body and blood.