"COMMUNION" and "COMMUNITY"

 

John 15:13

             For ten years straight I helped lead High School age trail camps in the Eagle Cap Wilderness of the Wallowa Mountains of Northeastern Oregon for the Christian Churches. After several years, during an evaluation session with other leaders, we concluded that our most successful camps took place when the weather was the poorest. The difficulties presented by rain and snow led the campers to depend on each other more, and work together better, resulting in a stronger sense of community.

             In a much greater way, the danger and difficulties that soldiers face in military conflicts have led soldiers to develop a closeness they would have never known otherwise. On June 6, 1944, a mighty armada crossed a narrow strip of sea from England to Normandy and cracked the Nazi grip on Western Europe. The men who landed at Normandy and survived developed an extremely strong bond.

             One of the most remarkable stories to come out of the 2^nd World War of how community was created through the sacrifice made by one man was told by Ernest Gordon, a British army officer who was captured by the Japanese and assigned to building the Burma-Siam railway. In his book, To End All Wars, he tells of joining a detail of prisoners to build a track bed through low lying swamp land. If a prisoner appeared to lag, a guard would beat him to death or decapitate him. Most of the war, the prison camp had served as a laboratory of survival of the fittest, with every man for himself. Men lived like animals, and for a long time hate was the main motivation for staying alive.

             But something happened to cause a change. One morning a guard discovered that a shovel was missing. When no one confessed to the theft, he screamed, “All die! All die!” and raised his rifle to fire at the first man in line. At that instant an enlisted man stepped forward and said, “I did it.” Enraged, the guard raised his rifle high in the air and brought the butt down upon his head in a crushing blow, killing him.

             That evening when tools were inventoried again, the work crew discovered a mistake had been made; no shovel was missing. One of the prisoners remembered the words of Jesus in John 15:13, “Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one’s life for his friends.” Attitudes in the camp began to shift. With no prompting, prisoners began looking out for each other rather than themselves. It was the beginning of community, a band of brothers (Phillip Yancey, Christianity Today, September 2003).

“Communion” and “community” have the same root meaning. They mean fellowship, oneness, and imply a group of people who work, laugh and cry together – and sometimes, it is crying together that creates the strongest bonds. People who look out for each other, people who, as Paul says, “bear one another’s burdens,” become a band of brothers and sisters in Christ. Of course, it was the sacrifice of Christ on our behalf that created our community of faith. Like that guard, Sin said, “ALL DIE!” but Jesus said, “NO, I WILL DIE FOR ALL.”

             His sacrifice has brought us together into this fellowship we call church, and we stay together only as we take up our cross and follow him.  As a band of brothers and sisters in Christ, We come together and express our community in the act of communion.

 Words of institution and partaking of bread and cup.

 Prayer: Thank you Lord for the sustaining fellowship of your church which you created by the sacrifice of your son.

 

 

 

 

 

June 6, 2004; Revised and used June 3, 2007; last used June 12, 2022.

THE LORD OF LIFE

 

                Long before Christianity came to northern Europe and the British Isles, Oct 31 and Nov 1 were special days for the Celtic people. These days marked the death of summer and beginning of winter. They recognized this with a special feast named for the Celtic Lord of Death, Samhain (Sow-een). His name meant “summer’s end.” It was not, however, a happy occasion. Since winter is the season of cold, darkness and death the Celts soon made the connection with human death. The Eve of Samhain (Sow-een), Oct 31 was a time of Celtic pagan sacrifice, and a time when Lord Samhain allowed the souls of the dead to return to their earthly homes. Ghosts, witches, goblins, and elves came and frightened people. In Ireland people held a parade in which they followed a leader in a white robe with a mask from the head of an animal. They went door to door asking for food. The Scots walked through fields and villages carrying torches and lit bonfires to ward off witches and other evil spirits. From Sunset on Oct 31, when their day began, the Lord of Death reigned supreme.

                 Sometime after the Celts began honoring the Lord of Death a very different Feast began in the Mediterranean world. It too focused on death, but in a very different way. At first, it was a day to commemorate martyrs who had been killed because they refused to denounce Christ and worship the emperor. Later it expanded to remember and honor those special people named saints by the church. Eventually, the church recognized what Paul knew from the beginning – that all who profess faith in Christ are saints. They are – we are – the holy people of God. Several dates were used at first but eventually the church settled on Nov. 1 for the Feast of All Saints Day.

                 When the church came to England and spread throughout Northern Europe, the Anglo-Saxon word, “Hallows” was the name used for the Feast. They called it, “All Hallows Day,” and the evening before was called “Halloween.” We still use this word when we pray, “Hallowed be thy name … “.

                The two traditions, the feasts of Samhain and All Saints Day, clashed and are still in conflict today. For the Christian the question must be faced: who do I honor today, the Lord of Death or The Lord of Life? Is my focus on the unholy, the dark and scary things of death, on ghosts and goblins, werewolves, and zombies, or on the Holy One who not only died for us but was raised to new life? Our confession of faith answers that question as we meet the Lord of Life at His table. Here we honor and remember the Lord of Life. And we do it with all the saints. My long life and service in many churches has allowed me to know a lot of saints. I wish I could name all of them now, because I feel, as Heb. 12 says, “surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses,” those who have passed on and those still living, who have chosen on this day to honor the Lord of Life. We can join them now in remembering and honoring the Lord of Life by saying together our confession of faith.

 

 

 “Samhain” pronounced Sow-een, or Sow-in (as in cow).

OUR STORY

              

                It’s the fourth of July – a day to remember the birth of our nation. Lately, I have been reading biographies of presidents and other important figures present during the early years of our nation. These stories have helped me understand more fully who we are as Americans.

                 Stories play a powerful role in our lives. They entertain and teach us. They preserve culture and pass on cultural knowledge from one generation to another. Perhaps the greatest role that stories play in our lives is that they form and reveal who we are. Stories form and express our beliefs and values. Stories create and shape our world view and can also change it.

                 I heard while living in Oklahoma that many years ago a Native American child was taken to his grandmother’s home and left with her for several days. She spent that time telling him stories, the stories of his people. He went there, not thinking about who he was; he left there knowing he was a Kiowa.

                 Stories come out of our past, out of what has already happened. Which is why history is so important. Psalm 105 and several others demonstrate how important Israel’s history was to it. Psalm 105 opens with a series of imperatives: “Give thanks to the Lord, call on his name … make known his deeds … sing praises to him … tell of all his wondrous works … glory in his holy name … seek the Lord … remember the wonderful works he has done.”

                 “Remember!” it says, and then proceeds to tell Israel’s story, beginning with the covenant God made with Abraham and continuing with their time in Egypt and the miraculous Exodus.

                 Why was it important, centuries later, for Jewish families to tell Israel’s story over and over again? Why was it important for Israel to periodically re-enact that story during elaborate feasts and festivals? Because that story made them and told them who they were. It gave them their way of life, their ethics, their faith, and set the direction for their journey in the world.

                 The story of God’s saving acts throughout history, culminating in the coming of Jesus, the master storyteller, has become our story. 1 Peter 2:9-10 uses ancient texts from Israel’s story to summarize how that story identifies us with these words: You are a chosen nation a royal priesthood, a holy nation his own special people, that you may proclaim the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light; who once were not a people but are now the people of God, who had not obtained mercy but now have obtained mercy.

                 The Lord’s Supper is one of the stories that identify us as those who have been chosen, have received mercy, and now are the people of God. We acknowledge that now as we make our confession of faith.

         "I believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the Living God

            and my Lord and Savior."

“My days are like an evening shadow”

                 Memorial weekend is considered by many to be the unofficial start of summer and they look forward to picnics, a trip to the beach or some other pleasurable activity. Originally, the day was meant to honor fallen service men and women, as well as loved ones who have died, and many people will visit cemeteries to do just that.

                Visiting a cemetery is a time to remember others, but it is also a time to reflect. The silent headstones tell us more than names and dates. They speak to us of mortality. Including our own mortality. We may not actually go to a cemetery but Memorial Day still prompts us to reflect on our mortality.

                I thought of this recently while reading in the Psalms. More than one psalm speaks of our mortality. Many echo what the psalmist said in Psalm 102: “My days pass away like smoke . . . my days are like an evening shadow; . . . I wither away like grass.”

                Poets have picked up on the imagery of the words, “my days are like an evening shadow.” Gerhard Frost wrote these lines:

                    “Time to come in now!” The mellow voice of love in

The darkening dust of a distant day,

my barefoot, carefree days of firefly lanterns,

cricket-chirped curfews

and the serious business of play.

No harshness to remember, but firmness born of care,

The loving care of Mother; She knew how much we liked to play.

“Time to come in now!” I seem to hear God say

in the deepening dusk of my sunset day.

God knows how much I want to stay.

                (Gerhard Frost, “God Knows,” in Seasons of a Lifetime, p. 153)

                 How shall we face our mortality and the “evening shadow?” This unexpressed question must be in my mind when I go to bed because I often, not always, but often go to sleep reciting another poem to myself. It is a short poem, written by a woman of faith, Jane Kenyon, whose “evening shadow” came early because of breast cancer. It is titled: “Let Evening Come.”

 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.

                (The Best Poems of Jane Kenyon. Graywolf Press, 2020, p. 58).

                Jane Kenyon could write this because of her faith in one whose life was cut short by a cross. His “evening shadow” also came much too early, as we humans count lifespans. But he trusted in the all-powerful God of creation to see him through “the valley of the shadow of death” to the victory banquet that lay ahead.   

                 On this Memorial weekend, as we consider our mortality, God does not leave us comfortless because of him who died and rose again on our behalf. Because of him we face our mortality with a living hope. Today, especially, we heed his invitation: “Do this in remembrance of me.”

ENOUGH!

 1 Corinthians 11:23-26

             In his book of meditations on the psalms, Ben Patterson tells of a professor who was lecturing from Paul’s letter, First Thessalonians, in which the apostle is teaching about the return of Christ. He was in Uganda and his students were young men preparing for ministry. These young men were living with horrendous reminders of what they had endured during the murderous reign of Idi Amin. Some were missing an eye or an arm. Several had bulging red scars from what had been deep machete wounds. In the eyes of all was the shadow of the horror they had seen. But there was also the light of the hope of Christ.

             The professor read verse 16 in chapter 4: “The Lord himself will come down from heaven with a commanding shout, with the voice of the archangel, and the trumpet call of God.” Immediately, a student’s hand went up.

             “Yes?” said the professor. “What is your question?”

             The man who had raised his hand hesitated for a moment and then asked softly, “What will the Lord shout?”

             The professor didn’t know what to say. Who would? Yet the accumulated suffering of the students in that classroom seemed to demand some kind of answer. What will the Lord shout when he returns as Lord of Lords and King of Kings?

            “I don’t know,” the professor admitted. Then he looked around the room, pausing to look at each student, and asked, “What do you think he will shout?”

             A student’s voice came from the back: “I think he will shout ‘Enough!’” That’s a good answer.* Enough violence, enough sickness and pandemics, enough tears, enough suffering, enough hatred. It’s a time we all look forward to.

             Paul reminds us in 1 Cor. 11 that the Lord’s Supper looks forward to that time as he says, For as often as you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.” His words remind us that we look not only to the past with thanksgiving but to the future with hope. As we partake, we look to the future when he will return, and all will be well.

             To be sure, in the meantime, even now to some extent, we can experience the wholeness and peace that he has promised, but we know that all will not be realized until the final shout is heard. Paul’s words invite us to look toward that day: “For as often as you eat this bread and drink this cup you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.”

*Patterson, Ben. God’s Prayer Book. Carol Stream, Ill., Saltriver, 2008, p. 184.

A TABLE IN THE WILDERNESS

 

            I sat in the living room early on a quiet morning, with a cup of tea, and looked out upon a tranquil neighborhood bathed in bright sunshine and thought, “it appears that all is well.” But looks can be deceptive. I had also just picked up the morning paper. It told a different story – a story of over ½ million deaths from Covid 19, of thousands who have lost their jobs, a murderer was killed by the police in a standoff, a governor who is accused of sexual assault and a cover-up of Covid 19 deaths. There are threats of domestic terrorism, political deadlock, a pending ecological disaster and protestors being gassed. You get the idea. It’s a jungle, a wild wilderness out there and we must travel through it.

             It’s enough to make us question God. Israel certainly did. They were in the wilderness of Sinai, weary, frightened, hungry and thirsty. In their desperation, says Psalm 78:19, “They spoke against God, saying, ‘Can God spread a table in the wilderness?’” They were asking, can God give us the nourishment we need to survive in this environment? Can God really produce a sense of hope and promise in the midst of such a depressing, mind-boggling situation?

             Yes, said the psalmist, he can and he did. Psalm 78 reviews their history in the wilderness and asserts: “He commanded the skies above and opened the doors of heaven; and he rained down upon them manna to eat, and gave them the grain of heaven. They ate the bread of the angels; he sent them food in abundance” (Ps, 78:23-25),

             Can God spread a table in our wilderness? John’s story in chapter six says he can. A few days after feeding the 5,000 in a “secluded” and “desolate” place (Mk. 6:32,35), Jesus was found again, as John tells us, by a large crowd (Jn 6:25). When some, seeking more bread, spoke of Israel being given manna in the wilderness they quoted Ps 78:24 which says, “He gave them bread out of heaven to eat.” Jesus responded, “It is not Moses who has given you the bread out of heaven, but it is my Father who gives you the true bread out of heaven. For the bread of God is that which … gives life to the world.” When the people said, “Lord, evermore give us this bread,” Jesus replied: I am the bread of life; he who comes to me shall not hunger, and he who believes in me shall never thirst” (Jn 6:31-35).

             The Lord’s Supper reminds us that God can spread a table for us in the wilderness. Jesus is our Table in the Wilderness. He is our bread of life. As he said, “this bread is my body, given for you.” And this cup is my blood shed for you.” He is our table in the wilderness.

             A communion hymn invites us to that table with these words:

                             All who hunger, gather gladly; Holy Manna is our bread.

                            Come from wilderness and wandering. Here in truth we will be fed.

                            You that yearn for days of fullness, all around us is our food.

                            Taste and see the grace eternal. Taste and see that God is good.

                                                                                (Sylvia Dunstan, 1990; Chalice Hymnal, 419)

UNPRECEDENTED!

 

                Ordinarily the editors of the Oxford English Dictionary elect one word to characterize the previous year, but in the case of 2020, they had trouble doing that. In an article titled, “Words of an Unprecedented Year,” they said that they couldn’t settle on one word but instead chose several, with words related to the Pandemic in the lead. Words like, locked down, shelter in place, covid-19, bubble, and others. As they said, it was an unprecedented year and perhaps the best choice for a single word to describe the year is simply “unprecedented.” 

                The disciples of Jesus could say that they had an unprecedented experience also. It happened when they were in a lockdown. They were “sheltering in place.” There was a deadly enemy out there and they were afraid to venture out. They had seen Jesus crucified. There was nothing unprecedented about that; there were lots of crucifixions. What happened next, however, was unprecedented. Here is how John describes it in chapter 20:

 “When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” After he had said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit”).

                 Knowing how shocked and troubled they were, Jesus said, twice, “Peace be with you.” Then he showed them his hands and his side, as if to say, “look, I am the one they crucified, but I’m alive.” Then they realized that he had defeated death and they rejoiced. His living presence gave them hope and joy.

                 Then he said to them, “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” His words gave them purpose. They were not a bunch of individuals, devastated and at loose ends. They had a reason for existence, a mission to accomplish.

                 Next he breathed upon them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” Not only were they given a purpose, they were also given the power to carry it out, the Holy Spirit, the very presence of God in their lives.

               It was indeed an unprecedented experience. They went from a devastated, frightened people, destined to be scattered and forgotten to a joyful, powerful group that would change the world. All because the living Christ was in their midst, giving them peace, joy, purpose and power. 

                We are fortunate to share in this unprecedented experience as we meet with our Lord in communion this morning, and because of his presence, we too can experience peace, joy, purpose and power. 

  

 

                 

A TRANSFORMING RESOLUTION FOR 2021

 

          The year is about to end, and we all say, good riddance to a bad year. Of course, we know that our current problems will not go away just by turning a page on the calendar. But as we turn the page, we can hope for a much better year in 2021. However, for that hope to be more than just wishful thinking there are things we need to do beyond the usual precautions of wearing a mask, washing our hands, and so on. We can do something that is equally or even more important.

 

            We can make a New Year’s Resolution that will help us navigate whatever dangerous waters lay ahead. We can resolve to live the words of Philippians 4:4-8. We can take these inspired words from Paul, who seemed to always be in trouble, and do like the ancient Israelites did with the divine words God gave them. They were told to bind them between their eyes and on their wrists, and to write them on their doorposts where they would see them every day. God’s words were meant to permeate their lives.

             Here is what Philippians 4:4-8 says: Rejoice in the Lord always; again, I will say, rejoice. Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is near; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, . . . whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.

             These are words to live by in 2021. Let me summarize:

             First, rejoice in the Lord always. This is not a suggestion; it is a command; we can choose to rejoice.

            Second, be reasonable with everyone, especially those who disagree with you.

            Third, replace anxiety with prayer – in everything and with thanksgiving.

            Finally, focus on what is true, honorable, and just; on what is pure, lovely, and commendable Do your best to counter the stories of ugliness and violence by focusing on what is good and praiseworthy.

             Paul wanted to imitate Christ and I am sure that these words reflect what he saw in Christ. Today, as we view Christ through the lens of the Lord’s Supper, let us resolve to live by these words and thereby imitate Christ.

 Confession of Faith

 Prayer: O Lord, hear us and rescue us. Give us in the new year, we pray, renewed health in body, mind, and spirit. Help us to live by the example of your Son, Jesus the Savior, in whose name we pray.

 

PEACE BE WITH YOU

 

             If you look in any hymnal you will find several Advent hymns that focus on the great themes of this season. A familiar one, “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel.” speaks of peace in the fourth stanza as it says: “O come Desire of nations, bind all peoples in one heart and mind. Bid envy, strife and quarrels cease; fill the whole world with heaven’s peace.”

            When Isaiah spoke of the coming child (9:6-7) he called him “Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace,” and added, “of the increase of his government and peace there will be no end.”

            The child, who became the man Jesus, met with his apostles for the last time in the upper room. There, according to John’s Gospel, he spoke at length, preparing them for his departure. Several times he spoke about peace. For instance, he said, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives” (14:27). Near the end of his teaching he said, “I have said this to you, so that in me you may have peace” (16:33).

             He wants them to have the gift of his peace. He said, “I do not give to you as the world gives.” He, and they, knew all too well how the world gives peace. Their world was a Roman world. How did that world give peace? At the point of a sword and by crucifying anyone who was a threat to their rule of peace. The Pax Romana, the “Peace of Rome,” was in force and they meant to keep it that way. Jesus saw firsthand how the world gives peace. As a boy he lived in the small village of Nazareth, close to the major city of Sephoris. A rebellion in Sephoris about the time when Jesus was born ended quickly with the death of some 30,000 citizens, including 2,000 who were crucified. Jesus would have learned that the cross was the symbol of how the world gives peace.

             Jesus said he wanted to give them his peace. Amazingly, the cross became his symbol of peace.  In Romans 5 Paul points out that it was through death on the cross that Christ reconciled us to God, thus making peace. And as for the hostilities and divisions we experience in the world, Paul explains in Ephesians 2 that he put these to death through the cross as well. The symbolism of the cross was transformed when Jesus was crucified.

             There is a beautiful verse in Ps 85 which, I think, summarizes the symbolism of the cross for us: “Mercy and truth have met together; Righteousness and peace have kissed each other.” As we take communion today may the cross be both righteousness and peace for us.

IT'S NOT OVER

 

I was reading Psalm 31 recently and one line in it made me think of Jesus on the cross. In verse 5 the psalmist says, “Into your hand I commit my spirit.” In Luke’s Gospel (23:46) these were his last words, uttered shortly before he died. When I picture Jesus on the cross and hear these words they sound like the last gasp of a dying man. He is facing reality – death is inevitable and imminent. Later, when Stephen in Acts 7, when Stephen is being crushed by huge stones thrown down on him, he said the same thing. It’s clear that he also knows that death is inevitable and imminent. It’s as if both Jesus and Stephen are saying, it’s over, the end has come. 

 

But when I read these words in the context of Psalm 31 that is not what I see. To be sure, the psalmist clearly is in trouble. He prays in verse 1, “rescue me speedily,” and in verse 4, “take me out of the net that is hidden for me.” Later in the psalm he cries out to God in distress, “my strength fails, my bones waste away” (10). And he speaks of enemies who scheme against him, and plot to take his life (13).  

 

In other verses, however, he thanks God for rescuing him. In fact, the entirety of verse 5 says, “Into your hand I commit my spirit; you have redeemed me, O Lord, faithful God.” These are not the words of a man who thinks that life is over. Instead, he goes on to say, “I will exult and rejoice in your steadfast love because you have seen my affliction” (7). He may not be out of danger yet, but he has hope. In verses 14-15 he repeats and summarizes it for us: “I trust in you, O Lord. I say, ‘You are my God.’ My times are in your hand.” A cliché in the sports world says, “It’s not over till its over,” and for the psalmist it is not over yet. The end has not come 

 

As I meditated on this psalm I remembered that Jesus undoubtedly knew the entire psalm and understood exactly what the psalmist was saying. The fact that Jesus turned to it as he faced death means that these were not just his final words, they were his motto for life. “Into your hand I commit my spirit … my times are in your hand,” – these words described how he lived as well as how he died. With such deep trust in God, Jesus knew that his life was not over and so he spoke the words of a psalm that faces the reality of pain and suffering and death with faith and hope and courage. In doing so he gave us a model for living that declares it’s never over when God is in it with us. Therefore, the psalm ends with an exhortation for all of us: “Love the Lord, all you his saints. The Lord preserves the faithful … Be strong and let your heart take courage, all you who wait for the Lord” (24-25).  

 

As we take communion today may this be our prayer also: “Father, into your hand I commit my spirit; my times are in your hands.” 

 

"COME, LORD JESUS."

 

                At the height of the Viet Nam war in 1969 there were protests throughout the U.S., not unlike what we see today. One morning that summer, as I walked across the U.O. campus, I saw a message of judgment from the book of Revelation spray-painted in big black letters across one of the buildings: “Fallen is Babylon.” The message was from a book that is filled with images that depict judgment. We see all kinds of scary creatures along with scenes of persecution, death, plagues, and impossible amounts of blood.

If we are not careful that is all we see, but there is more, much more. There is singing – a lot of it. Fifteen passages are commonly considered to be hymns. And the singing is a joyful, excited, enthusiastic praise of God upon the throne and of the Lamb who was slain, but lives as king of kings. Handle captures the spirit of the music in his masterpiece, The Messiah. Who hasn’t been moved by his rendition of the hymn in chapter 5: Worthy is the Lamb who has been slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing? And who has not stood to join with the choir and sing with full voice the powerful Hallelujah Chorus?

Near the end of his story, in chapter 19, John sees a great multitude at the marriage of the Lamb and his bride singing a victory song: Alleluia, for the Lord God omnipotent reigns. Some of the churches John wrote to were in danger of not being able to sing the Alleluia victory song. One was the church at Laodicea, seen in chapter 3, which was so self-sufficient and self-satisfied, that they felt no need for the Lord. So they shut the door and John shows Jesus standing by the closed door and saying, Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and dine with him, and he with me. They probably called their meal with the bread and wine the Lord’s Supper, but the Lord was not there.

                 In contrast, at the end of the story, in chapter 22 an invitation is extended to the Lord Jesus. Keep in mind that John is writing to Christians, not to the world in general. He knows that the assembled Christians will conclude their worship with the Lord’s Supper. In this context, at the conclusion of his letter, corresponding to the conclusion of his church’s worship, the invitation is given for Christ to come to the table. “The Spirit and the bride say come,” the Spirit who inspires John, and  “The Bride,” the church universal say, Come!. And, “Let everyone who hears,“ all who are within sound of the reader’s voice, say, Come! Then the invitation is extended to all of the congregation: Let everyone who is thirsty come. Let anyone who wishes, take the water of life as a gift (22:17).  The book ends with one last request, Come, Lord Jesus. Is it a request for the Second Coming? Yes, but more than that, it is a request for the Lord to be with them in the bread and the wine.

                 Now it is our turn. We who are about to partake of the Lord’s Supper also say, “Come, Lord Jesus,” be with us now as we partake.

WHY?

WHY?

                “O taste and see that the Lord is good.” These words, from Psalm 34:8 have been used in the church’s communion service since the earliest days. In her extended meditation on this text Bonnie Thurston, Biblical scholar, professor and spiritual leader, tells of a grandmother who said that her three-year-old grandson was interested in crucifixes and depictions of Jesus’s death in art. He had so many questions about Jesus’s death that his grandmother wondered if it were normal. Bonnie Thurston said she thought it was unusual but not abnormal. Children who have been loved and nurtured can respond with great sensitivity to the sufferings of others (Thurston, Bonnie. O Taste and See. P. 51).

                This isn’t just a three-year old’s question. You and I can relate to the little boy’s concern. “Why,” the quintessential two-and-three-year-old question, is also our question. Why did Jesus have to suffer and die? How did the crucifixion erase sin? What kind of God is this? Its outrageous to assert that God died on a Roman cross, an instrument of death saved for non-Roman citizens, insurrectionists and the most horrible of criminals.

                Paul recognized this when he said in 1 Cor 1:23 that the idea of the Messiah being crucified was a “stumbling-block” to Jews and “foolishness” to Gentiles. “Stumbling-block” translates A Greek word which is the source of our English word “scandal.” It is scandalous to think the Messiah, the Savior, was crucified. Why the cross?

                Great theological treatises have been written to answer that question but there is a simple answer that comes out of human experience and human relationships. As Bonnie Thurston put it: “In a broken relationship, only the wronged party can restore the relationship because only the wronged party can forgive” (p. 52).

                David recognized this fact. Although he had done irreparable harm to Bathsheba and Uriah he confessed to God in Ps 41, “against you and you only have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight.” We may wrong others and need their forgiveness, but ultimately it is God we have wronged, and only God can forgive. Our sins destroy our relationship with God, and we are helpless to repair it. But God is love, and love seeks reconciliation.

                As Paul said in Romans 5:8, 10, “God demonstrates his own love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. … While we were enemies we were reconciled to God through the death of his son.”

                This is the good news that we receive and remember each time we come to this table. “O taste and see that the Lord is good.”

TWENTY-TWENTY VISION

                On New Year’s Day I saw in the Frank and Ernest cartoon that one of the characters was looking at a calendar with Jan. 1, 2020 on it and saying, “Darn! I knew it was a long shot, but I was hoping I’d wake up today and have perfect eyesight.” There is no connection of course between 20-20 eyesight and the year 2020, at least in a literal sense. But in another sense, there may be a vital connection. It might help us maneuver through whatever the new year brings if we can see clearly. Especially if we have the kind of 20-20 vision that enables us to see reality clearly and, as Paul prays in Philippians 1:9, “that your love may overflow more and more with knowledge and full insight to help you to determine what is best.”

                How can we gain the kind of 20-20 vision that enables us to determine what is best? The year 2020 will bring all kinds of tests, temptations, ups and downs, joys and sorrows, opportunities and challenges. How do we determine what is best?

It may depend on the kind of glasses we are wearing. What we choose will be determined by how we look at life. We all look at life through certain lenses. Some have lenses that are covered with dollar signs and they see everything in terms of how much money they can make. Others look at life through racist, or sexist, or political or nationalistic lenses. The ideologies and worldviews by which we live are manifold and many of them lead to a distorted understanding of reality.

                As Christians, we can choose to look through a different lens – the lens of Jesus, or what we might call “Christ-colored” glasses. How did Jesus look at life? At people? Matthew tells us (14:14) that when he saw the thousands of people who had followed him to a deserted place “he had compassion upon them.” To view life through the lens of Jesus means to see everything through his character, that is, through his grace, compassion, love, kindness, goodness, and integrity. It means to go through life choosing to live as a servant intent on doing the will of God, the Father.

                When Jesus instituted the Lord’s Supper he said to his disciples, “Do this in remembrance of me.” As we focus on Jesus, our view of life is shaped by him and we begin to see through the lens of Jesus. He gives us the kind of 20-20 vision that we need to “determine what is best” as we maneuver through the year of 2020. Let us focus, therefore, on him who took the bread, blessed and broke it and said, “This is my body, given for you.” And also the cup, saying, “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.”

OUR GREAT THANKSGIVING

“Happy harvest day! This has always been my favorite holiday in Ukraine.” This is how June Johnson, a missionary nurse in Ukraine that our church supports, began her latest update. She went on to say that Harvest day is a Sunday set aside each fall for giving thanks to God. For their church it is a 3-hour service with lunch for 200 served afterwards. Ukraine, as a nation, began a national yearly celebration of giving thanks to God in November of 2015. Over 100,000 people gathered in Kiev’s main square to thank God for the year’s harvest and for Ukraine.

                June went on to comment on what giving thanks meant to her. She said: “Many years ago, a sister in Christ, impressed upon me the importance of keeping a grateful heart. Important because it keeps things like worry, fear, and complaining on a short leash. Important because it gives other things like joy, trust and obedience lots of room to run. And, important because it keeps me remembering – remembering who God is, what he has done, what he will do in the end, and remembering all that he has given me.”

                Aaron pointed out in this week’s newsletter that “to give thanks” is from the Greek word “eucharisteo”. The Lord’s Supper has been called the Eucharist from the earliest days of the church because Jesus used that word at the Last Supper. Matthew 26:26 says, And as they were eating, Jesus took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and give it to the disciples and said, “take, eat; this is my body.” Then he took the cup, and gave thanks, and gave it to them saying, “Drink from it all of you; for this is my blood of the new covenant, which is shed for many for the remission of sins.”

                The Lord’s Supper is our great thanksgiving. It is an act of thanksgiving, but more than that it cultivates thanksgiving – an attitude of gratitude. It reminds us that we have a choice. We can gripe and complain, or we can rejoice and give thanks. It’s true – life is not always good, it is unfair, painful, and sometimes really hard. But when we learn to maintain an attitude of thankfulness, we can look at all that life offers and put a great big Y-E-S! over it.  

I agree with the person who said: “In the end, when we die, maybe we’ll be judged not by what we accomplished during our lifetimes – the jobs we held, the music or the books we wrote, or other accomplishments – but by how thankful we were to have lived. Somehow, as I grow older that seems important to me. I don’t want to die as one who wasn’t grateful, who didn’t appreciate everything while he had it.” (John Killinger,”The Healing Power of Grattitude,” 30GoodMinutes.org).

                Let us join together now in a Great Thanksgiving of commuion and our offering of grateful giving.