Although Christmas day has passed it still seems like Christmas to me because I heard "O Little Town of Bethlehem" on the radio this morning, and because a gift I ordered online for my wife has not yet arrived. Also, we were unable to make it to our daughter's home for Christmas because of snow and ice so we have not yet exchanged gifts. Since it still seems like Christmas I want to share a Christmas communion meditation.*
An episode in the famous television series, MASH, captures some of what Christmas means. It is Christmas day in Korea and the MASH unit is looking forward to a relatively slow day. But the fragile cease fire called for earlier by both sides is broken and casualties will soon be streaming in. The hospital goes into full frenzy, with doctors operating, nurses moving from patient to patient, and Father Mulcahy doing anything he can to help.
Our attention is soon focused on one patient for whom it is obvious that death is waiting nearby. It is Christmas day though, and the staff is determined to keep the soldier alive until December 26 so they won't have to put Dec 25 on the death certificate. They don't want his family to be reminded of his death every Christmas. "Christmas should be a day of birth," says Father Mulcahey.
Long after the rest of the unit has gone off to celebrate the holiday, Hawkeye, B.J., Margaret and Father Mulcahy continue to do all they can to keep the soldier's heart pumping and his lungs filling. Despite their heroic efforts the patient dies around 11:30 PM. All their work seems to have been for naught. In the midst of war and death they had tried to bring a small piece of light. But they had failed. Or so it seems. Just as the tears begin to well up, Hawkeye goes over to the clock on the wall and moves the hands forward to read 12:05 AM. Can they falsify a record? Can they break a serious regulation? Yes. Father Mulcahy reminds them, "Christmas day is a day of birth." So the death certificate reads December 26.
Christmas is, indeed, a day of birth and yet when we gather around the Lord's Table at Christmas time it reminds us of a death. The death of a cherished son. A painful death. A terrible death. But we remember it because our Lord instructed us to remember it.
No one wants to be reminded of a death on Christmas. Especially the death of a cherished son. We know how Hawkeye and his friends felt about remembering a death on this special day. But as we gather with the shepherds around the manger and look at the baby, what do we see? Vulnerability. Helplessness. Just like any other child he is subject to the world around him.
And so we remember. We remember that this one who came on a Christmas night also died on a dark afternoon. We remember that without a death there can be no resurrection. We remember that the one who lived from crib to cross has brought us from cross to crib and given us the gift of new life. And so we remember his words: This is my body ... This is my blood ... and we give thanks.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Our Covenant Commitment Matthew 26:27-28
You may have heard about the chicken and the pig who were out for a morning stroll. Soon they came upon a small diner and out in front was a sign with big bold letters: "HAM AND EGGS -- 99 CENTS." "Oh boy," said Chicken, I could go for that right now. Let's go in." "Well," said Pig thoughtfully, "I don't think I want to do that. For you its just a contribution ... but for me it's total commitment." A lot of people, also, would like to get by with just a contribution. Making a commitment is difficult. It is not always easy because commitments can cost something and may even require a sacrifice.
In the upper room when Jesus gave directions for remembering him with the Lord's Supper he used a term and called for an action that called for total commitment. He held the cup before his disciples and said, "This is my blood of the covenant," and he asked them all to drink of it. Covenants always require commitments, often costly commitments. In this case it cost Jesus his life.
He was committed, but more than that, he was asking for their commitment. When he asked them to drink from the cup of the covenant he was asking for their commitment. He was asking them to form a covenant community that would be committed to him and to each other.
Did the twelve become that committed covenant community? One went out to betray him and was lost. Another went out to deny him, but was redeemed by the resurrected Christ. Others who had been with Jesus earlier joined them. Then, on the day of Pentecost, 50 days after the resurrection, 3,000 more joined them and Luke says of them in Acts 2:42, "They continued steadfastly in the apostles teaching, the fellowship, the breaking of bread and the prayers." Luke goes on to say that the people in that fellowship took care of each other, "as anyone had need." Here is the covenant community, committed to Jesus Christ and to one another, faithfully breaking bread and joining in fellowship.
Each Sunday we renew our commitment as we share in worship and once again hear Jesus' words, "this is my body," and "this is my blood of the covenant," and as we hear him say again, "drink from it, all of you."
In the upper room when Jesus gave directions for remembering him with the Lord's Supper he used a term and called for an action that called for total commitment. He held the cup before his disciples and said, "This is my blood of the covenant," and he asked them all to drink of it. Covenants always require commitments, often costly commitments. In this case it cost Jesus his life.
He was committed, but more than that, he was asking for their commitment. When he asked them to drink from the cup of the covenant he was asking for their commitment. He was asking them to form a covenant community that would be committed to him and to each other.
Did the twelve become that committed covenant community? One went out to betray him and was lost. Another went out to deny him, but was redeemed by the resurrected Christ. Others who had been with Jesus earlier joined them. Then, on the day of Pentecost, 50 days after the resurrection, 3,000 more joined them and Luke says of them in Acts 2:42, "They continued steadfastly in the apostles teaching, the fellowship, the breaking of bread and the prayers." Luke goes on to say that the people in that fellowship took care of each other, "as anyone had need." Here is the covenant community, committed to Jesus Christ and to one another, faithfully breaking bread and joining in fellowship.
Each Sunday we renew our commitment as we share in worship and once again hear Jesus' words, "this is my body," and "this is my blood of the covenant," and as we hear him say again, "drink from it, all of you."
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Something Better To Come
Last Sunday an elder in our church began her communion meditation by saying that her 97 year old mother had died just a week ago. Judy went on to say that she reminded her of the woman whose story has been told on the Internet many times. You may recognize it.
She had been diagnosed with a disease and given three months to live. Her Dr. told her to start making preparations to die. So she contacted her pastor and had him come to her house to discuss certain aspects of her final wishes. She told him which songs she wanted sung at the service, what scriptures she would like read, and what she wanted to be wearing. The woman also told her pastor that she wanted to be buried with her favorite Bible. Everything was in order and the pastor was preparing to leave when the woman suddenly remembered something very important to her.
"There's one more thing," she said excitedly. "What's that?" came the pastor's reply? "This is very important. I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand."
The pastor stood looking at the woman not knowing quite what to say. "That shocks you, doesn't it?" the woman asked. "Well, to be honest, I'm puzzled by the request," he said. The woman explained, "In all my years of attending church socials and functions where food was involved (and let's be honest, food is an important part of any church event; spiritual or otherwise); my favorite part was when whoever was clearing away the dishes of the main course would lean over and say 'you can keep your fork.' It was my favorite part because I knew that something better was coming. They they told me to keep my fork I knew that something great was about to be given to me. It wasn't Jell-O or pudding. It was cake or pie. Something with substance. So I just want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder, 'What's with the fork?' Then I want you to tell them: 'Something better is coming so keep your fork too.'"
When Judy told this story it made me think -- maybe we should pass out forks when we serve communion. After all, this "great thanksgiving feast" anticipates the banquet of heaven spoken of in Revelation 19:9 -- "Blessed are those who are called to the marriage supper of the Lamb!" Yes, when we come to this table we can look toward that day when all is fulfilled and "something better" than anything we have known here will be ours.
She had been diagnosed with a disease and given three months to live. Her Dr. told her to start making preparations to die. So she contacted her pastor and had him come to her house to discuss certain aspects of her final wishes. She told him which songs she wanted sung at the service, what scriptures she would like read, and what she wanted to be wearing. The woman also told her pastor that she wanted to be buried with her favorite Bible. Everything was in order and the pastor was preparing to leave when the woman suddenly remembered something very important to her.
"There's one more thing," she said excitedly. "What's that?" came the pastor's reply? "This is very important. I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand."
The pastor stood looking at the woman not knowing quite what to say. "That shocks you, doesn't it?" the woman asked. "Well, to be honest, I'm puzzled by the request," he said. The woman explained, "In all my years of attending church socials and functions where food was involved (and let's be honest, food is an important part of any church event; spiritual or otherwise); my favorite part was when whoever was clearing away the dishes of the main course would lean over and say 'you can keep your fork.' It was my favorite part because I knew that something better was coming. They they told me to keep my fork I knew that something great was about to be given to me. It wasn't Jell-O or pudding. It was cake or pie. Something with substance. So I just want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder, 'What's with the fork?' Then I want you to tell them: 'Something better is coming so keep your fork too.'"
When Judy told this story it made me think -- maybe we should pass out forks when we serve communion. After all, this "great thanksgiving feast" anticipates the banquet of heaven spoken of in Revelation 19:9 -- "Blessed are those who are called to the marriage supper of the Lamb!" Yes, when we come to this table we can look toward that day when all is fulfilled and "something better" than anything we have known here will be ours.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
AT THE LORD'S TABLE -- THINK!
Do you have this problem? I tend to do some things automatically, without thinking. For instance, I automatically close my garage door when I leave home and then a block or so away I wonder, 'Did I close the door?' Several times I have driven back to make sure the door was closed. Once, when we left on a trip, I left it open and didn't think to check it. there it was, wide open for anyone to take whatever they wanted. Fortunately, our neighbor knew we were leaving and closed it for us.
It can be risky to do things without thinking. This seems to be what Paul is saying in 1 Corinthians 11:17-34. He began by criticizing them for their divisions when they came together and then, after reminding them of how Jesus began the Lord's Supper in the upper room, he said to them, in effect -- THINK when you do this. Here is how he puts it in verses 28-29, "examine yourselves, and only then eat of the bread and drink of the cup. For all who eat and drink without discerning the body, eat and drink judgment against themselves." "Examine," "discern," he says -- in other words, THINK when you do this. But think about what?
First, he says, "examine yourselves" -- think about yourselves. This certainly means to look into your own heart, to be aware of motives, weaknesses, failures. It means being honest with yourself when you come to the table.
But he makes it clear in the next verse that examining yourselves is not a strictly private experience. He goes on to say that if you don't "discern the body you eat and drink judgment against yourselves." What does he mean by "the body?" Some say it refers to the body of Christ Himself as he hung on the cross. Certainly, that is involved. We do need to think about Christ on the cross. But if we had time to read this entire section, beginning in verse 17, you would see that he is thinking about the church as the body of Christ.
Specifically, he is thinking about the unity of the church. When the Corinthian church came together they had so many cliques and divisions among them (see chapters 1-4) that it destroyed the meaning of the meal. He actually says, "when you come together it is not really to eat the Lord's Supper."
I have always been thankful that ours is a thinking church. We think about each other. When we come to the table there is a strong sense of fellowship and unity. As we continue to grow it will be important that we maintain this by knowing each other, by caring for each other, praying for each other, and in many other ways, "discerning the body" as we come together.
Saying the confession of faith is one of the ways we express our unity of faith -- will you say it with me now.
Twin Oaks Christian Church, November 16, 2008.
It can be risky to do things without thinking. This seems to be what Paul is saying in 1 Corinthians 11:17-34. He began by criticizing them for their divisions when they came together and then, after reminding them of how Jesus began the Lord's Supper in the upper room, he said to them, in effect -- THINK when you do this. Here is how he puts it in verses 28-29, "examine yourselves, and only then eat of the bread and drink of the cup. For all who eat and drink without discerning the body, eat and drink judgment against themselves." "Examine," "discern," he says -- in other words, THINK when you do this. But think about what?
First, he says, "examine yourselves" -- think about yourselves. This certainly means to look into your own heart, to be aware of motives, weaknesses, failures. It means being honest with yourself when you come to the table.
But he makes it clear in the next verse that examining yourselves is not a strictly private experience. He goes on to say that if you don't "discern the body you eat and drink judgment against yourselves." What does he mean by "the body?" Some say it refers to the body of Christ Himself as he hung on the cross. Certainly, that is involved. We do need to think about Christ on the cross. But if we had time to read this entire section, beginning in verse 17, you would see that he is thinking about the church as the body of Christ.
Specifically, he is thinking about the unity of the church. When the Corinthian church came together they had so many cliques and divisions among them (see chapters 1-4) that it destroyed the meaning of the meal. He actually says, "when you come together it is not really to eat the Lord's Supper."
I have always been thankful that ours is a thinking church. We think about each other. When we come to the table there is a strong sense of fellowship and unity. As we continue to grow it will be important that we maintain this by knowing each other, by caring for each other, praying for each other, and in many other ways, "discerning the body" as we come together.
Saying the confession of faith is one of the ways we express our unity of faith -- will you say it with me now.
Twin Oaks Christian Church, November 16, 2008.
Monday, October 27, 2008
A TIME TO FORGET
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 or it will affect my next shot -- I have to forget the past and 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.
At the Lord's Table we often speak of remembering, and of course, we should, because 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, we must forget the past mistakes and failures that keep us from accepting His grace and moving on toward the future that God has for us.
Paul said in Philippians 3:13-14, " ... 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 His return, and to "press on toward the goal" that Christ has set for us.
At the Lord's Table we often speak of remembering, and of course, we should, because 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, we must forget the past mistakes and failures that keep us from accepting His grace and moving on toward the future that God has for us.
Paul said in Philippians 3:13-14, " ... 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 His return, and to "press on toward the goal" that Christ has set for us.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Where Joy And Sorrow Meet Hebrews 12:2
Why should Jesus, as he hung on the cross, be ashamed? Ashamed of what? Of healing the sick? Of feeding the poor? Of criticizing the self-righteous? He had nothing to be ashamed of.
And yet, in the eyes of the public it was a shameful thing to be crucified. The Gospel writers do not ignore the pain and suffering of the cross but if you look closely at their accounts of the crucifixion it is clear that they stressed something else. You don't find graphic pictures of Jesus in agony or strong adjectives describing how much pain he had. Instead the descriptions stress the humiliation, disgrace, and shame of the cross.
Honor and shame were, and still are, pivotal values in the Mediterranean and near East world. We have heard even in recent times of so-called honor killings when a man thinks his daughter or wife has brought shame upon him. Love of honor was a powerful, driving force in Jesus' day. Contempt, loss of face, defeat and ridicule were to be avoided at all costs. Those who heard or read the story of Jesus' death understood this. the Gospels give us details of how the Roman soldiers and some Jewish leaders deliberately heaped shame upon him. They stripped him, hung a purple robe on him, forced a crown of thorns on his head, and then mocked him as a king. The focus of a man's honor is his head so they struck him in the face and spit upon him. As he hung helplessly on the cross they hurled insults at him and ridiculed him.
It is no wonder that Paul refers to Christ crucified as a "scandal," and "offense," a "stumbling block," to many because of the shame involved (1 Corinthians 23). The writer of Hebrews 12:2 explicitly calls the cross "shame." But notice how he puts it: "Fixing our eyes on Jesus ... who for the joy set before him, endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God."
He endured the cross and the shame. Here is suffering joined to shame but both are linked with joy. For the joy ahead he endured the cross and despised the shame. Here is where joy and the sorrow of suffering and shame meet. The cross of Christ is still, for us, the place where joy and sorrow meet.
Some words from a modern song by Avalon express it well:
The Lord's Table reminds us of that place where joy and sorrow meet.
And yet, in the eyes of the public it was a shameful thing to be crucified. The Gospel writers do not ignore the pain and suffering of the cross but if you look closely at their accounts of the crucifixion it is clear that they stressed something else. You don't find graphic pictures of Jesus in agony or strong adjectives describing how much pain he had. Instead the descriptions stress the humiliation, disgrace, and shame of the cross.
Honor and shame were, and still are, pivotal values in the Mediterranean and near East world. We have heard even in recent times of so-called honor killings when a man thinks his daughter or wife has brought shame upon him. Love of honor was a powerful, driving force in Jesus' day. Contempt, loss of face, defeat and ridicule were to be avoided at all costs. Those who heard or read the story of Jesus' death understood this. the Gospels give us details of how the Roman soldiers and some Jewish leaders deliberately heaped shame upon him. They stripped him, hung a purple robe on him, forced a crown of thorns on his head, and then mocked him as a king. The focus of a man's honor is his head so they struck him in the face and spit upon him. As he hung helplessly on the cross they hurled insults at him and ridiculed him.
It is no wonder that Paul refers to Christ crucified as a "scandal," and "offense," a "stumbling block," to many because of the shame involved (1 Corinthians 23). The writer of Hebrews 12:2 explicitly calls the cross "shame." But notice how he puts it: "Fixing our eyes on Jesus ... who for the joy set before him, endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God."
He endured the cross and the shame. Here is suffering joined to shame but both are linked with joy. For the joy ahead he endured the cross and despised the shame. Here is where joy and the sorrow of suffering and shame meet. The cross of Christ is still, for us, the place where joy and sorrow meet.
Some words from a modern song by Avalon express it well:
There is a place where hope remains
In crowns of thorns and crimson stains
And tears that fall on Jesus' feet
Where joy and sorrow meet.
There's a place of thirst and hunger where the roots of faith grow deep.
And there is rain and rolling thunder when the road is rough and steep.
There is hope in desperation, there is victory in defeat
At the cross of restoration where joy and sorrow meet.
The Lord's Table reminds us of that place where joy and sorrow meet.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
The Table of Reconciliation
Is there any greater need in our world today than the need for reconciliation? Whether it is the conflict between Russia and Georgia, or husband and wife, or rich and poor, black and white -- or whatever -- the need for reconciliation is overwhelming. True reconciliation between humans, however, can never take place without first being reconciled to God. And God himself has provided the model that shows us how it can come about.
Leanna Pemberton, a long-time missionary to the troubled land of Zimbabwe, spoke at the Winema Week of Missions on the Oregon coast recently of how we. as Christians, have been chosen to carry God's word of reconciliation to the world. She read 2 Corinthians 5:18-19, "God has given us the ministry of reconciliation, that is, that God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself, not imputing their sins to them, and has committed to us the word of reconciliation."
She spoke of how it is often difficult, in different cultures, to express what is meant by words like "reconciliation," or what it can mean to people. Then she told of how her preacher-missionary husband, John Mark, who died much too young of a sudden heart attack, discovered a way to make God's act of reconciliation meaningful to the people they worked among. It had to do with burial concepts.
He often preached from 1 Corinthians 15 that defines the gospel message as the death, burial and resurrection of Christ. We talk a lot about the death and resurrection but not so much about the meaning of burial. Among the people of Zimbabwe, however, burial is an important function and provided a clue for John Mark's preaching of the Gospel. It came to him when two young men from different villages were drinking together with some friends. An argument broke out. It became violent and one man killed the other. The offended family refused to bury their son until the reconciliation price was paid. They even took the body and left it at the entrance of the other family's village. The police came and said, "you can't leave it here. You must bury it." They replied, "you can bury it if you want but we will not until reconciliation is paid." Finally the other family paid the number of cows, or whatever was required, and the young man was buried.
In his sermons after this John Mark would say, "See how much God loves you. He sent his Son but your sins killed him. But God did not refuse to bury him. He loves you and allowed his son to be buried without requiring a payment of reconciliation. God himself has paid the price by giving his Son on your behalf."
In whatever culture, and whatever language, God is calling upon us to be reconciled to him and to one another. We call this the Lord's Table, but we could also call it the table of reconciliation. It reminds us, as Paul said in Romans 5:8, "God demonstrates his own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us ... when we were enemies we were reconciled to God through the death of his Son."
The price for our reconciliation with God has been paid -- and we are welcome at the table of reconciliation.
Leanna Pemberton, a long-time missionary to the troubled land of Zimbabwe, spoke at the Winema Week of Missions on the Oregon coast recently of how we. as Christians, have been chosen to carry God's word of reconciliation to the world. She read 2 Corinthians 5:18-19, "God has given us the ministry of reconciliation, that is, that God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself, not imputing their sins to them, and has committed to us the word of reconciliation."
She spoke of how it is often difficult, in different cultures, to express what is meant by words like "reconciliation," or what it can mean to people. Then she told of how her preacher-missionary husband, John Mark, who died much too young of a sudden heart attack, discovered a way to make God's act of reconciliation meaningful to the people they worked among. It had to do with burial concepts.
He often preached from 1 Corinthians 15 that defines the gospel message as the death, burial and resurrection of Christ. We talk a lot about the death and resurrection but not so much about the meaning of burial. Among the people of Zimbabwe, however, burial is an important function and provided a clue for John Mark's preaching of the Gospel. It came to him when two young men from different villages were drinking together with some friends. An argument broke out. It became violent and one man killed the other. The offended family refused to bury their son until the reconciliation price was paid. They even took the body and left it at the entrance of the other family's village. The police came and said, "you can't leave it here. You must bury it." They replied, "you can bury it if you want but we will not until reconciliation is paid." Finally the other family paid the number of cows, or whatever was required, and the young man was buried.
In his sermons after this John Mark would say, "See how much God loves you. He sent his Son but your sins killed him. But God did not refuse to bury him. He loves you and allowed his son to be buried without requiring a payment of reconciliation. God himself has paid the price by giving his Son on your behalf."
In whatever culture, and whatever language, God is calling upon us to be reconciled to him and to one another. We call this the Lord's Table, but we could also call it the table of reconciliation. It reminds us, as Paul said in Romans 5:8, "God demonstrates his own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us ... when we were enemies we were reconciled to God through the death of his Son."
The price for our reconciliation with God has been paid -- and we are welcome at the table of reconciliation.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Not A Stranger Ephesians 2:12
In Ephesians 2 Paul spoke of the plight of some when he said they had been "strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world."
As I thought about what it might be like to be a stranger to the covenant of promise I remembered a conversation I heard on public radio last week. they were discussing the survey done recently across America about religious belief and the question was asked, "Do you have to belong to a church or can you be religious alone?" A woman called in and gave a good testimony of how much the fellowship of the church meant to her. Then another woman called who said she did not need a church to be religious or spiritual. In fact, she felt most religious and spiritual when sitting alone on a hillside under a tree or on a cliff overlooking the ocean.
I can understand that to a great extent. I love the mountains and the seashore and have spent a lot of time there. I have been in church camps at Winema on the beach and in the wilderness area of the Wallowa mountains when campers went out alone and had a devotional time. Those can be very spiritual moments. But how would we feel in those places if a ferocious storm came upon us -- as it well could do. Of if a blizzard threatened to bury us under a deep blanket of snow? How spiritual and religious would we feel then? I think I would feel more frightened than spiritual.
Even in good weather, being alone can be frightening. One year on our high school back packing camp in the Wallowas a girl got separated from the rest of us. The trail split and went around a lake and then came together again further on past the lake. She took one trail and everyone else took the other. The trails were far enough apart that they were hidden from each other. Suddenly we heard frantic cries for help coming from across the lake. She had left the trail and found the lake but couldn't see us. Eventually, we made visual contact and motioned her in the right direction. That night at bonfire we had our usual prayer time. She had not prayed before but that night said one simple, five word prayer: "Thank you God for people."
It can be very frightening to be all alone in the world. This is one reason we have covenants. A covenant requires commitment. It means being part of a group of people who are committed to each other. People who help us find the way.
As Jesus held the cup before his disciples he said, "This cup is the new covenant in my blood..." In effect, he was initiating a covenant community and was expressing his commitment to them. Not much later he demonstrated that commitment as he went to the cross and shed his blood for the forgiveness of sins. As we partake of the Lord's Supper we join in commitment to one another and to Christ. Some, as Paul said, may be "strangers to the covenant of promise, having no hope and without God in the world," but not us. We are his covenant community.
As I thought about what it might be like to be a stranger to the covenant of promise I remembered a conversation I heard on public radio last week. they were discussing the survey done recently across America about religious belief and the question was asked, "Do you have to belong to a church or can you be religious alone?" A woman called in and gave a good testimony of how much the fellowship of the church meant to her. Then another woman called who said she did not need a church to be religious or spiritual. In fact, she felt most religious and spiritual when sitting alone on a hillside under a tree or on a cliff overlooking the ocean.
I can understand that to a great extent. I love the mountains and the seashore and have spent a lot of time there. I have been in church camps at Winema on the beach and in the wilderness area of the Wallowa mountains when campers went out alone and had a devotional time. Those can be very spiritual moments. But how would we feel in those places if a ferocious storm came upon us -- as it well could do. Of if a blizzard threatened to bury us under a deep blanket of snow? How spiritual and religious would we feel then? I think I would feel more frightened than spiritual.
Even in good weather, being alone can be frightening. One year on our high school back packing camp in the Wallowas a girl got separated from the rest of us. The trail split and went around a lake and then came together again further on past the lake. She took one trail and everyone else took the other. The trails were far enough apart that they were hidden from each other. Suddenly we heard frantic cries for help coming from across the lake. She had left the trail and found the lake but couldn't see us. Eventually, we made visual contact and motioned her in the right direction. That night at bonfire we had our usual prayer time. She had not prayed before but that night said one simple, five word prayer: "Thank you God for people."
It can be very frightening to be all alone in the world. This is one reason we have covenants. A covenant requires commitment. It means being part of a group of people who are committed to each other. People who help us find the way.
As Jesus held the cup before his disciples he said, "This cup is the new covenant in my blood..." In effect, he was initiating a covenant community and was expressing his commitment to them. Not much later he demonstrated that commitment as he went to the cross and shed his blood for the forgiveness of sins. As we partake of the Lord's Supper we join in commitment to one another and to Christ. Some, as Paul said, may be "strangers to the covenant of promise, having no hope and without God in the world," but not us. We are his covenant community.
Monday, June 2, 2008
A Gift From God 2 Corinthians 9:15
"Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift."
Speaking of gifts, I received an unexpected gift recently that meant a great deal to me. It was a book that I already had but I was able to trade it in for another, written by an author I did not know, which led to two more by the same author, each one very enjoyable. Why is it gifts can mean a lot to us? There are many reasons, I suppose, but at least this much is true, gifts say things to us.
My nephew, Steve, is the pastor of First Christian Church in Silverton, Oregon. In a recent newsletter column he commented on the meaning of communion as God's gift to us. He said that he looks forward to communion every Sunday and went on to say:
"In April of 1943, German theologian and professor Dietrich Bonhoeffer was arrested for opposing Adolph Hitler's policies. Ten weeks after his arrest, Bonhoeffer received a parcel from his parents, and then he wrote a letter from prison to them:
It is Monday, and I was just sitting down to a dinner of turnips and potatoes when a parcel you sent me by Ruth arrived. Such things give me greater joy than I can say. Although I am utterly convinced that nothing can break the bonds between us, I seem to need some outward token or sign to reassure me. In this way, material things become the vehicles of spiritual realities. I suppose it is rather like the felt need in our religion for the sacraments.
"Yes," Steve wrote, "the sacrament of communion can feel like this. The bread and juice are material things that become the vehicles of spiritual realities -- material things that speak to us. Bonhoeffer knew his parents loved him, and yet something inside of him hungered for that love to become tangible. And we also know that God loves us, and is here with us, but something inside yearns for that love to be seen and felt, touched and tasted."
"Every week we receive a "parcel," a gift from God called communion. Through the bread and cup we can experience God's love and presence. And remember Jesus. What he said, what he did. His amazing sacrifice. His resurrection."
What Paul exclaimed about God's gift of Christ we also say about our experience of Christ in communion: "Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift!"
Speaking of gifts, I received an unexpected gift recently that meant a great deal to me. It was a book that I already had but I was able to trade it in for another, written by an author I did not know, which led to two more by the same author, each one very enjoyable. Why is it gifts can mean a lot to us? There are many reasons, I suppose, but at least this much is true, gifts say things to us.
My nephew, Steve, is the pastor of First Christian Church in Silverton, Oregon. In a recent newsletter column he commented on the meaning of communion as God's gift to us. He said that he looks forward to communion every Sunday and went on to say:
"In April of 1943, German theologian and professor Dietrich Bonhoeffer was arrested for opposing Adolph Hitler's policies. Ten weeks after his arrest, Bonhoeffer received a parcel from his parents, and then he wrote a letter from prison to them:
It is Monday, and I was just sitting down to a dinner of turnips and potatoes when a parcel you sent me by Ruth arrived. Such things give me greater joy than I can say. Although I am utterly convinced that nothing can break the bonds between us, I seem to need some outward token or sign to reassure me. In this way, material things become the vehicles of spiritual realities. I suppose it is rather like the felt need in our religion for the sacraments.
"Yes," Steve wrote, "the sacrament of communion can feel like this. The bread and juice are material things that become the vehicles of spiritual realities -- material things that speak to us. Bonhoeffer knew his parents loved him, and yet something inside of him hungered for that love to become tangible. And we also know that God loves us, and is here with us, but something inside yearns for that love to be seen and felt, touched and tasted."
"Every week we receive a "parcel," a gift from God called communion. Through the bread and cup we can experience God's love and presence. And remember Jesus. What he said, what he did. His amazing sacrifice. His resurrection."
What Paul exclaimed about God's gift of Christ we also say about our experience of Christ in communion: "Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift!"
Friday, May 23, 2008
"TO LIFE!" 1 Corinthians 10:16; John 10:10
Coming out of the depression and prohibition era as devout Christians my family was not a drinking family. I don't remember ever seeing my parents drink an alcoholic beverage. Frances and I continued the no-drinking policy as we raised our children. I don't regret that policy and would do it over again, for several reasons which I will not go into here. However, I realize now that by not having a glass of wine with our meal, or with friends on special occasions, we may have missed out on a rich and universal custom. Henri Nouwen describes it this way:
"After a meal the win is poured. No one drinks until all are served. Then all lift their cups, look each other in the eye, and offer a toast. It is a universal [and old] custom. In Latin the toast is "prosit," -- "be well;" in German, "zum wohl," -- "to your well being;" in English, "cheers;" in Polish, "sto lat," -- "a hundred hears;" in Ukrainian, "na zdornia," -- "to your health;" and in Hebrew, "L Chaim," -- "to life!" (Can You Drink The Cup, 57).
The Hebrew toast is an old one, but I don't know how old. I have wondered if it was the custom in Jesus' day to lift the cup and say, "to life!" We do know that the in the Passover meal there were traditionally four cups of wine that were lifted. In the upper room as Jesus and his disciples ate the Passover meal the third cup came, as Luke says, "after supper," and was called "the cup of blessing" in Jewish tradition. When Jesus held it before them Luke says that he added this distinct meaning: "This cup which is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood."
When Paul referred to it in 1 Corinthians 10:16 he used the Jewish phrase, "the cup of blessing." Peterson's The Message translates it this way: when we drink the cup of blessing, aren't we taking into ourselves the blood, the very life of Jesus? Paul must have called it the cup of blessing, not only because it was traditional, but because it had this meaning for him -- that we are taking into ourselves the very life of Jesus.
Would it not be appropriate, then, for us to take the cup, hold it up, look into each other's eyes and say, "to life!"
"After a meal the win is poured. No one drinks until all are served. Then all lift their cups, look each other in the eye, and offer a toast. It is a universal [and old] custom. In Latin the toast is "prosit," -- "be well;" in German, "zum wohl," -- "to your well being;" in English, "cheers;" in Polish, "sto lat," -- "a hundred hears;" in Ukrainian, "na zdornia," -- "to your health;" and in Hebrew, "L Chaim," -- "to life!" (Can You Drink The Cup, 57).
The Hebrew toast is an old one, but I don't know how old. I have wondered if it was the custom in Jesus' day to lift the cup and say, "to life!" We do know that the in the Passover meal there were traditionally four cups of wine that were lifted. In the upper room as Jesus and his disciples ate the Passover meal the third cup came, as Luke says, "after supper," and was called "the cup of blessing" in Jewish tradition. When Jesus held it before them Luke says that he added this distinct meaning: "This cup which is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood."
When Paul referred to it in 1 Corinthians 10:16 he used the Jewish phrase, "the cup of blessing." Peterson's The Message translates it this way: when we drink the cup of blessing, aren't we taking into ourselves the blood, the very life of Jesus? Paul must have called it the cup of blessing, not only because it was traditional, but because it had this meaning for him -- that we are taking into ourselves the very life of Jesus.
Would it not be appropriate, then, for us to take the cup, hold it up, look into each other's eyes and say, "to life!"
To life without guilt!
To life without fear!
To life without end!
As Jesus himself said, I came that you may have life, and have it abundantly" (John 10:10). Now, as I lift this cup of blessing, will you say it with me: "To Life!" ----- Yes, to Life with a capital "L".
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
BE PREPARED ... Luke 22:35-38 ...Table Talk #5
There are times when it is especially important to be prepared. For example, transition times, like when your child is leaving home to go out into the cold, hard world on his own, or when a soldier is going into war. These are times when it pays to be as prepared as possible.
At the Last Supper, Jesus knew that when his disciples left the comfortable confines of the upper room that they would face a severe test. The soldiers would come, he would be arrested and killed, and beyond that, after the resurrection, he would leave them in a hostile world to fulfill his mission. For them, it was like leaving home to work in a hard world, or even like going off to war.
Jesus wanted them to be prepared. The last thing he said to them, according to Luke, before leaving and going to Gethsemane and the cross was about being prepared, "Earlier," he said, "I sent you out on mission without money bag, knapsack, and sandals, ... but now, he who has a money bag, let him take it, and likewise a knapsack; and he who has no sword, let him sell his garment and buy one." The disciples still did not understand that the kingdom Jesus was bringing was not a political-military one and so they misunderstood his words about the sword. They took him literally and someone said, "Lord, look, here are two swords." He replied, I think with some sarcasm, "That's enough!" Or as some commentaries say, "Enough of such talk!"
We know that from other things Jesus said that he did not mean they should literally use the sword to fulfill his mission. But he knew that they would be engaged in spiritual warfare and they must be ready for it. This is why Paul, in Ephesians 6, urged us to put on "the whole armor of God ... and take the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God."
When we leave the comfortable confines of this room, the warmth of Christian fellowship, and go out into the world we too will face challenges of many kinds. Will we be ready? Will we be prepared? In a sense, everything we do here helps us get ready. Our songs express scripture and the Christian faith, our minister preaches the Word of God, we pray for each other, and we meet with our Lord at this table. In these ways we put on the whole armor of God and take up the sword of the Spirit. And with this preparation we go out confidently to live and serve Him in this world.
At the Last Supper, Jesus knew that when his disciples left the comfortable confines of the upper room that they would face a severe test. The soldiers would come, he would be arrested and killed, and beyond that, after the resurrection, he would leave them in a hostile world to fulfill his mission. For them, it was like leaving home to work in a hard world, or even like going off to war.
Jesus wanted them to be prepared. The last thing he said to them, according to Luke, before leaving and going to Gethsemane and the cross was about being prepared, "Earlier," he said, "I sent you out on mission without money bag, knapsack, and sandals, ... but now, he who has a money bag, let him take it, and likewise a knapsack; and he who has no sword, let him sell his garment and buy one." The disciples still did not understand that the kingdom Jesus was bringing was not a political-military one and so they misunderstood his words about the sword. They took him literally and someone said, "Lord, look, here are two swords." He replied, I think with some sarcasm, "That's enough!" Or as some commentaries say, "Enough of such talk!"
We know that from other things Jesus said that he did not mean they should literally use the sword to fulfill his mission. But he knew that they would be engaged in spiritual warfare and they must be ready for it. This is why Paul, in Ephesians 6, urged us to put on "the whole armor of God ... and take the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God."
When we leave the comfortable confines of this room, the warmth of Christian fellowship, and go out into the world we too will face challenges of many kinds. Will we be ready? Will we be prepared? In a sense, everything we do here helps us get ready. Our songs express scripture and the Christian faith, our minister preaches the Word of God, we pray for each other, and we meet with our Lord at this table. In these ways we put on the whole armor of God and take up the sword of the Spirit. And with this preparation we go out confidently to live and serve Him in this world.
Monday, April 7, 2008
Wounded Healers Table Talk #4
In Luke's account of the Last Supper Jesus has some farewell words in addition to identifying the bread with his body and the cup with his blood, and urging us to remember him. He could see what was coming when they left the upper room, just as he can see what is coming for us when we leave the Lord's Table. Speaking to Peter but including the others (the "you" is plural), he says,
Simon, Simon! Look out! Satan has asked for you all, to sift all of you like wheat. But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith might not give out. You, for your part when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers. Peter said to him, "Lord, I am ready to go with you to prison and to death." But Jesus said, "I tell you Peter, a cock will not crow this day before you have denied three times that you know me." (Luke 22:31-34, The Word Commentary translation).
Jesus knows that when his people leave the safe and comfortable confines of their meal together that they will face everything that Satan can throw at them. He will attack our weak points, whatever they are, and like those early disciples, we too are likely to falter and fail. Peter doesn't think he will and assures Jesus that he will go to prison and death with him, but Jesus predicts his downfall too. Before the night is over he will deny Jesus three times. But, Jesus says, "I have prayed for you that your faith might not give out."
Here is a leader, a fallen leader, if you will, who because he has been prayed for and has returned, or repented, will be able to strengthen his fellow disciples. He will be what has been called "a wounded healer." We often expect leaders, especially in the church, to be perfect. But they are human. Like Peter, they have weaknesses and fail, sometimes at critical moments. They have been wounded by Satan's attack. But if they are prayed for, as Jesus prayed for Peter, and if they repent, as Peter did, Jesus still has a job for them. They become stronger through all of this and are able to fulfill Jesus' desire that they strengthen others.
At this table we are all disciples who need strengthening; but at the same time we are all leaders in one way or another who can strengthen others. We too are wounded healers. We need to pray for each other, and we need to repent, and then Jesus can use us.
Simon, Simon! Look out! Satan has asked for you all, to sift all of you like wheat. But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith might not give out. You, for your part when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers. Peter said to him, "Lord, I am ready to go with you to prison and to death." But Jesus said, "I tell you Peter, a cock will not crow this day before you have denied three times that you know me." (Luke 22:31-34, The Word Commentary translation).
Jesus knows that when his people leave the safe and comfortable confines of their meal together that they will face everything that Satan can throw at them. He will attack our weak points, whatever they are, and like those early disciples, we too are likely to falter and fail. Peter doesn't think he will and assures Jesus that he will go to prison and death with him, but Jesus predicts his downfall too. Before the night is over he will deny Jesus three times. But, Jesus says, "I have prayed for you that your faith might not give out."
Here is a leader, a fallen leader, if you will, who because he has been prayed for and has returned, or repented, will be able to strengthen his fellow disciples. He will be what has been called "a wounded healer." We often expect leaders, especially in the church, to be perfect. But they are human. Like Peter, they have weaknesses and fail, sometimes at critical moments. They have been wounded by Satan's attack. But if they are prayed for, as Jesus prayed for Peter, and if they repent, as Peter did, Jesus still has a job for them. They become stronger through all of this and are able to fulfill Jesus' desire that they strengthen others.
At this table we are all disciples who need strengthening; but at the same time we are all leaders in one way or another who can strengthen others. We too are wounded healers. We need to pray for each other, and we need to repent, and then Jesus can use us.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
VISIBLE SIGNS OF THE RESURRECTION
Many visible testimonies to the resurrection of Christ can be seen. The stone rolled away, the empty tomb, and one of the most intriguing, the abandoned grave clothes. John 20:6-7 tells us that when Peter and John ran to investigate the empty tomb they "saw the linen wrappings lying there, and the face-cloth that had been around his head, not lying with the linen cloths, but folded together in a place by itself." As though he had just stepped out of them the linen cloths were just lying there. The head cloth, carefully folded or rolled up, was some distance away.
On the Internet today you will find that some are saying that this folded face-cloth, in some versions a towel, or a handkerchief, or in the old King James, a "napkin," points to a Jewish custom. If the Master leaves a meal unfinished and just wads up his napkin and throws it down, it means he is finished and the servant can clean up the table. But if he carefully folds it and lays it on the table, and goes away, it says to his servant, "I am not finished -- I will be back." Could this be what the folded head cloth meant? Perhaps, although research indicates that there is no proof that this was actually a Jewish custom and we might question the idea that a dinner napkin was used as a grave head cloth.
This much seems certain, however, that the abandoned grave cloths and the carefully folded head cloth say that the body was not stolen by a fast-moving body snatcher. Rather, they point to the calm, unhurried exit by one who had no further need of them.
But there is another visible testimony to the resurrection that outweighs all others -- the weekly gathering of disciples to commune with their living Lord. If Jesus was really still in the tomb, and had never shown himself to his disciples, there is no way that a few followers could resurrection their fellowship. In no way could they fool themselves, or pull off the greatest hoax ever seen. They knew in their hearts, deep down, that he was alive and they were willing to do whatever it took to meet with him weekly at his table. The very existence of the church is a result of the resurrection and its most powerful witness.
At the Lord's Table then, we proclaim not only the Lord's death but also his resurrection. It is the resurrection that created our community of faith and hope. As Peter put it in 1 Peter 1:3, "We (as the church and as individuals) have been born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead."
On the Internet today you will find that some are saying that this folded face-cloth, in some versions a towel, or a handkerchief, or in the old King James, a "napkin," points to a Jewish custom. If the Master leaves a meal unfinished and just wads up his napkin and throws it down, it means he is finished and the servant can clean up the table. But if he carefully folds it and lays it on the table, and goes away, it says to his servant, "I am not finished -- I will be back." Could this be what the folded head cloth meant? Perhaps, although research indicates that there is no proof that this was actually a Jewish custom and we might question the idea that a dinner napkin was used as a grave head cloth.
This much seems certain, however, that the abandoned grave cloths and the carefully folded head cloth say that the body was not stolen by a fast-moving body snatcher. Rather, they point to the calm, unhurried exit by one who had no further need of them.
But there is another visible testimony to the resurrection that outweighs all others -- the weekly gathering of disciples to commune with their living Lord. If Jesus was really still in the tomb, and had never shown himself to his disciples, there is no way that a few followers could resurrection their fellowship. In no way could they fool themselves, or pull off the greatest hoax ever seen. They knew in their hearts, deep down, that he was alive and they were willing to do whatever it took to meet with him weekly at his table. The very existence of the church is a result of the resurrection and its most powerful witness.
At the Lord's Table then, we proclaim not only the Lord's death but also his resurrection. It is the resurrection that created our community of faith and hope. As Peter put it in 1 Peter 1:3, "We (as the church and as individuals) have been born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead."
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
STAND BY YOUR LORD -- Table topic #3
Loyalty, or to use a somewhat old fashioned word, faithfulness, is in short supply today. Whether its marriage partners (as in the latest scandal in New York), employees, employers, or church members, many people are quick to bail out if things don't go right for them. Look out for number one is the creed of modern culture. Loyalty is OK, but its not a primary value for a lot of people. As long as the football team is winning the stands will be full, but let hard times set in and fans will leave in droves.
That's why Jesus' words to his disciples in Luke 22 at the Last Supper are so important. The twelve disciples gave him a lot of trouble -- don't we all? After identifying the bread with his body and the wine with his blood, Jesus spoke openly at the table of one who would betray him and scolded them for seeking prestige and power in the kingdom, holding up his own example of being a servant. In spite of these problems he went on to say to them:
You have stood by me in my trials; and just as my Father has granted me a kingdom, I grant that you may eat and drink at my table ... and sit on thrones ruling the twelve tribes of Israel. Luke 22:28-30.
To eat at his table and share in his rule are great promises and they are given in spite of their jealous quarreling, their selfish ambitions, and their lack of complete understanding. The promises are given simply because they were faithful. Above all, Jesus needs our loyalty. And, as the text indicates, he rewards it.
Similar promises are given to the church in Revelation 3:20-21. Here, in this letter to the Laodicean church, we see pictured a church that is very much like the American church today -- rich materially but blind to its poverty, full of deeds, but lukewarm in its passion for Christ. Still, the risen Lord offers a place at his table and a seat on his throne as he says,
Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and will dine with him, and he with me. He who overcomes, I will grant to him to sit down with me on my throne, as I also overcame and sat down with my father on his throne.
He expects our faithfulness, not our perfection; our loyalty, not our lip service. By virtue of the fact that we gather each Lord's Day to commune with him he could well be saying to us: you have stood by me in my trials and now I grant that you may eat and drink at my table and sit with me on my throne.
That's why Jesus' words to his disciples in Luke 22 at the Last Supper are so important. The twelve disciples gave him a lot of trouble -- don't we all? After identifying the bread with his body and the wine with his blood, Jesus spoke openly at the table of one who would betray him and scolded them for seeking prestige and power in the kingdom, holding up his own example of being a servant. In spite of these problems he went on to say to them:
You have stood by me in my trials; and just as my Father has granted me a kingdom, I grant that you may eat and drink at my table ... and sit on thrones ruling the twelve tribes of Israel. Luke 22:28-30.
To eat at his table and share in his rule are great promises and they are given in spite of their jealous quarreling, their selfish ambitions, and their lack of complete understanding. The promises are given simply because they were faithful. Above all, Jesus needs our loyalty. And, as the text indicates, he rewards it.
Similar promises are given to the church in Revelation 3:20-21. Here, in this letter to the Laodicean church, we see pictured a church that is very much like the American church today -- rich materially but blind to its poverty, full of deeds, but lukewarm in its passion for Christ. Still, the risen Lord offers a place at his table and a seat on his throne as he says,
Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and will dine with him, and he with me. He who overcomes, I will grant to him to sit down with me on my throne, as I also overcame and sat down with my father on his throne.
He expects our faithfulness, not our perfection; our loyalty, not our lip service. By virtue of the fact that we gather each Lord's Day to commune with him he could well be saying to us: you have stood by me in my trials and now I grant that you may eat and drink at my table and sit with me on my throne.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
LORDS OR SERVANTS? -- Table Talk #2
The words of institution are often used to introduce the Lord's Supper but they are usually severed from their context. In Luke 22 they come to us in the context of other important words from Jesus. Here is Luke's account in 22:14-20, 24-27:
When the hour had come, he sat down, and the twelve apostles with him. Then he said to them, "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." Then he took a cup, and gave thanks and said, "Take this and divide it among yourselves; for I say to you, I will not drink of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes." 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." ... Now there was also a dispute among them, as to which of them should be considered the greatest. And he said to them, "The kings of the Gentiles exercise lordship over them, and those who exercise authority over them are called benefactors. But not so among you; on the contrary, he who is greatest among you, let him be as the younger, and he who governs as he who serves. For who is greater, he who sits at the table, or he who serves? Is it not he who sits at the table? Yet I am among you as the one who serves."
Most of Jesus' teaching focused on the kingdom of God -- its nature and purpose. The 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 telling them that he must go to Jerusalem and be killed. The Gospel writers make it clear that the twelve, prior to the resurrection, never understood this. A crucified Messiah did not fit their kingdom expectations.
These two subjects, the kingdom and his death, came together in Jesus' table talk at the Passover meal when he instituted the Lord's Supper. First, he said that he was eager to eat this Passover with them before he suffered because he would not eat it again until the kingdom came. Then he took the bread and cup and spoke of his body given for them and the new covenant in his blood.
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 reminded them that "the leader is like one who serves ... and I am among you as one who serves."
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 and follow me" (Matthew 16:24 nrsv; also Lk 14:27; Mk 8:34).
When the hour had come, he sat down, and the twelve apostles with him. Then he said to them, "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." Then he took a cup, and gave thanks and said, "Take this and divide it among yourselves; for I say to you, I will not drink of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes." 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." ... Now there was also a dispute among them, as to which of them should be considered the greatest. And he said to them, "The kings of the Gentiles exercise lordship over them, and those who exercise authority over them are called benefactors. But not so among you; on the contrary, he who is greatest among you, let him be as the younger, and he who governs as he who serves. For who is greater, he who sits at the table, or he who serves? Is it not he who sits at the table? Yet I am among you as the one who serves."
Most of Jesus' teaching focused on the kingdom of God -- its nature and purpose. The 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 telling them that he must go to Jerusalem and be killed. The Gospel writers make it clear that the twelve, prior to the resurrection, never understood this. A crucified Messiah did not fit their kingdom expectations.
These two subjects, the kingdom and his death, came together in Jesus' table talk at the Passover meal when he instituted the Lord's Supper. First, he said that he was eager to eat this Passover with them before he suffered because he would not eat it again until the kingdom came. Then he took the bread and cup and spoke of his body given for them and the new covenant in his blood.
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 reminded them that "the leader is like one who serves ... and I am among you as one who serves."
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 and follow me" (Matthew 16:24 nrsv; also Lk 14:27; Mk 8:34).
Monday, March 17, 2008
JESUS KNOWS OUR FAILURES -- Table Talk 1
Every Sunday at communion time we hear the Words of Institution but in Luke's Gospel, compared to the other Gospels and Paul, Jesus had much more to say. 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.
I find these words 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.
Jesus knew, of course, how they would respond when the test came. Peter would deny him three times and all of the others would flee. 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? He taught us to love unconditionally -- will we allow hatred, or prejudice, or hurt feelings to crowd out that love? 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, Judas and the others. He knows that we too will often 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."
Yes, he knows our failures but still he 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 is 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, one again, to express our loyalty and receive his forgiveness and thus experience renewal.
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.
I find these words 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.
Jesus knew, of course, how they would respond when the test came. Peter would deny him three times and all of the others would flee. 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? He taught us to love unconditionally -- will we allow hatred, or prejudice, or hurt feelings to crowd out that love? 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, Judas and the others. He knows that we too will often 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."
Yes, he knows our failures but still he 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 is 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, one again, to express our loyalty and receive his forgiveness and thus experience renewal.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
The Table of Compassionate Giving
The story in John 6:1-15 of feeding 5,000 must have spoken to deep needs among early Christians because it is the only miracle recorded in all four Gospels. In it Jesus, out in a wilderness, far from homes and sources of food, blessed five loaves and two fish and fed a huge crowd of hungry, needy people.
When Jesus told the disciples to feed them, they looked at the five loaves and two fish and asked, "What are these for so many people?" The need was so great and their resources were so few that they felt overwhelmed. Similar words are spoken in many places today. The countless numbers of hungry, homeless and desperate people in this world overwhelms us. How can my small offering meet such a vast need?
Often, non Christians also, simply out of human compassion, are moved to feed the hungry. Earl Woods, father of Tiger Woods, told of watching a documentary about a famine in Ethiopia. Tiger, who was 4, saw the distended bellies and the inability of the children to even swat flies off their faces. Tiger disappeared into his bedroom and came back with his gold coin collection. "Daddy, can we give this to help those little kids?" Woods said, "I accepted it, and sent the cash equivalent to a doctor friend who was serving in Ethiopia. tiger doesn't know it, but I still have those gold coins. One day, when the time is right, I'll give them back to him and recall that moment which brought tears to my eyes."
We too feel the call as human beings to help our fellow human beings. But our motivation as Christians is even greater. We believe in a God who gave his only son. We believe in a Jesus who saw the hungry crowds and had compassion on them. We believe in a Christ who gave his life for others. As Paul said, when some in the Corinthian church were questioning his sacrificial service, "the love of Christ compels us, because we judge thus: that if one died for all, then all died; and he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves, but for Him who died for them and rose again" (2 Corinthians 5:14-15).
Yes, we give because we are human, but also because "the love of Christ compels us" -- the Christ who can bless our meager offering and use it to feed the world. He set the supreme example and we honor it each Sunday as we meet him at the table of compassionate giving.
When Jesus told the disciples to feed them, they looked at the five loaves and two fish and asked, "What are these for so many people?" The need was so great and their resources were so few that they felt overwhelmed. Similar words are spoken in many places today. The countless numbers of hungry, homeless and desperate people in this world overwhelms us. How can my small offering meet such a vast need?
Often, non Christians also, simply out of human compassion, are moved to feed the hungry. Earl Woods, father of Tiger Woods, told of watching a documentary about a famine in Ethiopia. Tiger, who was 4, saw the distended bellies and the inability of the children to even swat flies off their faces. Tiger disappeared into his bedroom and came back with his gold coin collection. "Daddy, can we give this to help those little kids?" Woods said, "I accepted it, and sent the cash equivalent to a doctor friend who was serving in Ethiopia. tiger doesn't know it, but I still have those gold coins. One day, when the time is right, I'll give them back to him and recall that moment which brought tears to my eyes."
We too feel the call as human beings to help our fellow human beings. But our motivation as Christians is even greater. We believe in a God who gave his only son. We believe in a Jesus who saw the hungry crowds and had compassion on them. We believe in a Christ who gave his life for others. As Paul said, when some in the Corinthian church were questioning his sacrificial service, "the love of Christ compels us, because we judge thus: that if one died for all, then all died; and he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves, but for Him who died for them and rose again" (2 Corinthians 5:14-15).
Yes, we give because we are human, but also because "the love of Christ compels us" -- the Christ who can bless our meager offering and use it to feed the world. He set the supreme example and we honor it each Sunday as we meet him at the table of compassionate giving.
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