Halloween and the Commandment to Love

October 31, 2021
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Mark 12:28-34[1]

This is a sermon in two parts. The first focuses on Halloween, the second on the Great Commandment.

Halloween has a bad reputation. Many Christians view Halloween as a celebration of death or evil. Some point to pagan origins for the holiday, its ties to witchcraft, or even the use of apples as a symbol of sin. I think we are fortunate to live in a community that is a bit more relaxed about what is, at least now, a playful holiday.

There is a Gaelic autumn festival called Samhain which marks the end of the harvest season and the beginning of winter. The celebration begins the evening of October 31, the eve of the Christian celebration of All Saints Day, or All Halos Day. Halos Eve over time becomes the word Halloween. The date is about halfway between the autumn equinox and winter solstice. Early Irish literature says that Samhain was marked by great gatherings and feasts, when cattle were brought down from the summer pastures and livestock were slaughtered. Special bonfires were lit and sacrifices were made to pagan gods to ensure the people and their livestock survived the winter.

Samhain was a liminal or threshold festival, when the boundary between this world and the spirit world was thin, meaning spirits could more easily come into our world. The souls of dead kin were also thought to revisit their homes seeking hospitality, and a place was set for them at the table during a Samhain meal. People went door-to-door in costume reciting verses in exchange for food. Costumes were a way of disguising oneself from the spirits.

So, Halloween does have Celtic pagan origins. But the same can be said for Christmas and Easter, which have links to former pagan holidays as well. During the early centuries, when the new Christian faith was a small and often persecuted religion, many Christian festivals were hidden by occurring at the same time as other religious feast days.

Women often had important roles in pagan religions, and the heavily male-oriented Christians often viewed them as evil. Witches were believed to have magical, supernatural powers. Sickness and mental illnesses were believed to be caused by curses or evil magic. Women with knowledge about healing herbs were sometimes seen as making magic potions. Fertility rituals and celebrations honoring the dead around the time of Halloween were viewed as communicating with evil spirits.

Many Celtic festivities involved rituals intended to divine the future, especially with regard to death and marriage. Apples were often used in these divination rituals or games. In Celtic mythology, apples were strongly associated with the Otherworld and immortality. A common game was apple bobbing. Somehow, the Genesis story got mixed in here. By eating the forbidden fruit in the garden, Adam and Eve brought sin and death into the world. For some Christians, the fruit itself, not the act of disobedience, was the source of sin and death. Even though apples are not mentioned in that story, the use of apples in pagan rituals must have indicated their evil power.

All of this illustrates a fragile Christian faith. Evil and magic are given too much power by weak theology. Rather than embracing other cultures, fear of the unknown has led some Christians to label outside influence as evil. Yet, early in the life of the Church, as new Christians were converted from Judaism, and Greek and Roman religions, Paul wrote to the church in Colossae that the bringing of festivals and incorporating them into their new faith was not to be judged. “Therefore, do not let anyone condemn you in matters of food and drink or of observing festivals, new moons, or sabbaths.”[2] All things come into fullness in Christ, and God is not threatened or diminished by human ways of thinking.

If we choose to remember those who have passed on while looking forward to the excitement of the new that God is bringing, that is good. People wore costumes and masks to hide from evil spirits, now we wear them for fun. Bonfires and food shared with others don’t need to be vilified. Instead of fearing the way that others celebrate harvest and life, we can let our children celebrate a fun holiday, and maybe we can get dressed up and eat an apple or two.

Now, the scripture passage we read today speaks of loving God and neighbor. I think it ties in well with how we look at an ancient pagan festival. Does celebrating Halloween cause us to turn away from God or hate our neighbor? It certainly doesn’t have to. Pretending to face up to scary monsters helps us prepare to face the real monsters and frightening things we face in life. Going door to door to share candy can help us meet our neighbors and draws our communities closer together.

Some folk speak of the bible as a guidebook for life. If any passage were truly meant to be understood as the rule for living a good life, it is this: Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength, and love your neighbor as yourself. This is the framework on which all theological and ethical thinking and conduct is built. Paul even wrote to the Galatians, “The whole law is summed up in a single commandment, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’”[3] Of all the rules and laws and religious ordinances, none is more universal than the love of God and neighbor.

When the scribe asks Jesus which commandment is the greatest, he affirms the Jewish foundation of his teaching and ministry and expands it to encompass so much more. The first commandment Jesus gives comes from Deuteronomy, a passage known in Judaism by its first word: Shema, meaning to listen or heed. “Hear, O Israel: The Lord is our God, the Lord alone. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might.”[4] If you have ever visited the home of a practicing Jew, you may have seen a mezuza on the doorframe, a small scroll-shaped object adorned with the Hebrew letter Shin, which looks like a W. Inside the mezuza is a small piece of paper with this scripture written on it. This important passage is said as a prayer in morning and evening Jewish prayer services.

This commandment, this prayer, calls for our devotion and commitment to God. It is a foundational creed of the faith from which Jesus comes, and it remains the foundation of what will come after. As Jesus nears Jerusalem, and faces ever-more sharp critique from the religious authorities, this moment emphasizes that his authority comes from the foundations of their faith. The scribes have opposed Jesus at every step, and he has repeatedly pointed out their corrupt practices. Yet here a scribe commends Jesus for his insight, for reminding him that more important than all the burnt offerings and sacrifices is the love of God and neighbor.

The ethical call to do justice and care for the poor, the widow, the orphan, and the stranger is distilled into the love of neighbor. Like a lens can focus light to a point, it can also spread it out to shine on much more. The lens of the gospel expands our love of neighbor into a call to love the homeless veteran, the drug addict, the transsexual, the migrant worker, and the refugee. As a moral guide, we can do no better than to love our neighbor as ourselves.

The work of living out our love of neighbor is the hard part. That’s where we’re asked to pick up our cross and follow Jesus. It is not easy to love those we’ve been taught are not worthy of our love. It is hard work to take responsibility for the well-being of others. But we can do it when we are moved by love, for when we love God with all that we are, God loves us back in all that we are and makes the work of love possible.

Shema Yisrael: Adonai Eloheinu, Adonai Eḥad. Hear, O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord alone. “‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.’ The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.”[5]  Amen.

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[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

[2] Colossians 2:16.

[3] Galatians 5:14.

[4] Deuteronomy 6:4-5.

[5] Mark 12:30-31.

A Better Tomorrow

October 24, 2021
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Mark 10:35-45[1]

This is the 30^th year of the National Observance of Children’s Sabbaths. Across this nation, people of faith are turning their attention to the urgent problems facing children across our nation and around the world, and responding in many different ways to improve children’s lives. Official poverty data released by the U.S. Census Bureau on September 15, 2020 show nearly 10.5 million children in America lived in poverty in 2019.[2] Although 2019 data showed a decline in poverty numbers from 2018, these estimates do not reflect what has happened since the COVID-19 pandemic.

It is painful to think about children who are hungry or homeless, who have no access to health care, who are abused or neglected, who are victims of gun violence, who are left alone because of a lack of money for child care, or who are denied access to safe and affordable schools. Despite efforts to make schools safer, school shootings are still all too common. On August 13 of this year, a 13-year-old boy at Albuquerque’s Washington Middle School was taken into custody Friday afternoon after police say he shot and killed a fellow student during a lunch break on campus.[3]

Closer to home, in 2020, more than 183,000 pounds of food passed through the M.O.R.E. Center.[4] The M.O.R.E. Center also distributed 125 new children’s coats last year. During the 2020 fiscal year, Home of the Sparrow directly served over 500 women and children, including 216 children.[5]

Why is it important for us to give our attention to the plight of children, to focus in worship on the lives of poor children? God calls us to seek justice for children, especially the most vulnerable, the orphan. It is a law written in Deuteronomy: “You shall not deprive a resident alien or an orphan of justice; you shall not take a widow’s garment in pledge.”[6] It is a command from Isaiah: “Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean; remove the evil of your doings from before my eyes; cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow.”[7]

The Rev. Dr. Shannon Daley-Harris, Director of Religious Affairs for the Children’s Defense Fund explains the importance of this day. She writes:

Our children only get one shot at childhood. If we leave them mired in poverty and robbed of the enrichment for which their minds, bodies, and spirits thirst; sick or dying for lack of care we could have ensured they had; or locked up and out of sight in prison, they will never get that lost childhood back. The effects of having their childhood robbed will remain with them—and us— for a lifetime.[8]

Jesus said to the disciples, “Let the little children come to me… for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs.”[9] Jesus has concern for the “least of these” – people who are young, poor, and in need of healing – and those who follow him are called to share that concern. But too often we get caught up in the struggle for power, in competition to be the “biggest” or the “best.” Even the disciples miss the message of Jesus over and over, and instead focus on securing positions of power in the coming kingdom. “And they said to him, ‘Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory’” (Mark 10:37).

Of course, those of us who know how the story ends find this request by James and John to be silly, or naïve at best. “Are you able to drink the cup that I drink?” (Mark 10:38). This is a cup of suffering; this is the way of the cross. Do they really know what they are asking? And yet, in the end, they will remain faithful disciples, true followers; they will share the cup of Christ and live the way of the cross. They might not receive the seats of Moses and Elijah, but they will have seats at the table.

The way of Jesus is the way of the cross. The professor and theologian, Walter Wink, wrote that the way of the cross is the way of resistance to the Domination System,[10] which is characterized by power exercised over others, control of others, ranking as the primary principle of social organization, hierarchies of dominant and subordinate, winners and losers, insiders and outsiders, honored and shamed.[11] It is this system of domination that keeps the weakest and most vulnerable members of society, primarily children, trapped in the web of poverty.

True discipleship is the way of service and self-sacrifice. A Biblical scholar, the Rev. Dr. Lamar Williamson, Jr. wrote, “True discipleship is characterized by a costly pouring out of one’s life for another, whether it be an aging parent, a difficult spouse, a special child, another member of the Christian fellowship who has unusual needs, or any person whose situation elicits neighborly service at personal cost.”[12] Christian discipleship calls us to a life of service to the least of these, to children in need.

The prophet Isaiah’s words give us hope that things can be different. “The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them.”[13] The Lord seeks justice for children, and with God all things are possible.

The service to which we are called is not only to reach out in charity, but also to change the structures and systems that are hurting and failing children. When children are the poorest group of Americans, when millions of children are poor, there is a need for change to our nation’s structures and systems. When nine million children do not have health coverage, there is a need for change on a national scale. When the odds are stacked against our nation’s Black, Latino, and poor children, sending so many of them into prison or an early grave, there is a need for change and for justice in the system that works against them.

The Zebedee brothers, James and John, perhaps think the system is good, it’s just that the wrong people are in the places of power; once they come into their own, alongside Jesus, everything will be fixed from the top down. Meanwhile, Jesus is turning over the tables and paying far more attention to serving than being served.

In our day, as it was in Jesus’ day, those who are young, poor, and without power are likely to be trampled in the stampede for the best seats, the most power, the most privilege, the most wealth, the greatest advantage. James and John, the sons of Zebedee, want to be great, and risk getting caught up in the Domination System. But Jesus calls them, and us, to servant-hood. “You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. But it is not so among you; but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant” (Mark 10:42-43).

The needs of children in poverty, without access to health care and at risk of imprisonment, call us to demonstrate true greatness through servant leadership. And we cannot afford to look the other way, hiding from our calling or feeling that we are not equal to the task. These words of Martin Luther King, Jr. are a helpful reminder:

Everybody can be great, because everybody can serve. You don't have to have a college degree to serve. You don't have to make your subject and your verb agree to serve. You don't have to know about Plato and Aristotle to serve. You don't have to know Einstein's theory of relativity to serve. You don't have to know the second theory of thermodynamics in physics to serve. You only need a heart full of grace, a soul generated by love. And you can be that servant. [14]

Together, let us bring a message to all children who suffer that God knows and shares their pain; God is present with them and will not abandon them even in their most painful times. “Then Jesus said to them, ‘The cup that I drink you will drink; and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized’” (Mark 10:39) We can be great. We can answer the call of Jesus Christ to be disciples by serving others in the world, and we can promise to the children of the world a better tomorrow.  Amen.

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[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

[2] U.S. Census Bureau, Current Population Survey. 2020. “2019 Annual Social and Economic Supplement,” Table POV-01 (Below 100 percent and 50 percent of poverty, all races). https://www.census.gov/topics/income-poverty/data/tables.html.

[3] https://www.santafenewmexican.com/news/local_news/one-teen-killed-another-arrested-in-shooting-at-albuquerque-middle-school/article_05311a2a-fc87-11eb-95ad-23b73065d32c.html.

[4] http://marengomorecenter.org/index.shtml.

[5] https://www.hosparrow.org/about/statistics/.

[6] Deuteronomy 24:17.

[7] Isaiah 1:16-17.

[8] Shannon Daley-Harris, Create Change for Children Today: Bring Hope and a Better Tomorrow – National Observance of Children’s Sabbaths® Manual – A Multi-Faith Resource for Year-Round Child Advocacy, Volume 18 © 2009 Children’s Defense Fund, p. 12.

[9] Mark 10:14.

[10] Walter Wink, Engaging the Powers: Discernment and Resistance in a World of Domination (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1992), 33-104.

[11] Charles L. Campbell, Homiletical Perspective on Mark 10:35-45 in David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors, Feasting on the Word: Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary, Year B, Volume 4 (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009), p. 193.

[12] Lamar Williamson Jr., Mark: Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching (Westminster John Knox Press, 1983).

[13] Isaiah 11:6.

[14] The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., “The Drum Major Instinct,” Ebenezer Baptist Church, Atlanta, Georgia, February4, 1968.

Jesus Stood Still

October 17, 2021
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Mark 10:46-52[1]

Oh Lord I want to be in that number
When the saints go marching in.[2]

We want to be in the crowd, the followers of Jesus. We want to be counted among the faithful. We like to be near Jesus, to be seen walking with Jesus. We’re insiders, and we like it that way. As insiders, however, we sometimes build barriers to separate us from the outsiders, or at least we do our best to ignore them.

Thus, we find Bartimaeus sitting by the side of the road. A blind beggar, he is not with the crowd. He is stuck, helpless, needy. He resembles the homeless vet on the corner asking for a handout. Trapped on the edge of society, on the way out of town, on the margins, Bartimaeus is not one of us. We may feel pity toward his circumstances, or even drop a coin or two in his cup, but there’s just not much we can do.

If we were asked, “What do you want me to do for you?” (Mark 10:51), would we have an answer? We might ask Jesus to end COVID, or cure cancer, or stop war. We might ask for something more personal, like help overcoming addiction, repairing a broken relationship, or finding a new job or new direction in life.

James and John, when asked what they wanted replied, “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory” (Mark 10:37). Bold, presumptuous, and confident of their place, the disciples whose needs are met seek glory in the hereafter. Quite the contrast from the beggar with real needs who asks only for mercy.

When our basic needs are met, do we, like the crowd outside of Jericho, become complacent, focused on the road ahead and staying with the group, ignoring those on the outside crying to get in? Here the crowd is leaving Jericho, heading for Jerusalem, so intent on moving on that they sternly command Bartimaeus to be quiet. They may have thought: we don’t have time for this. We have a long way to go, and our leader is too busy.

The thing is, their leader was Jesus. Yes, his time is limited, there are many places to go and people to see. Mark’s Gospel tells a story in motion, moving from scene to scene rapidly, on the road, always going somewhere. We’re often busy too, with not enough time to get all the things done. And we know that getting a group of people moving to go anywhere can be a big challenge. Yet in this moment, hearing the cry for mercy, Jesus stood still.

“Call him here” (Mark 10:49). With this command, Jesus stops the whole show, directing the crowd to stop and pay attention when they would otherwise have just kept moving. In this moment Jesus also directs them to be the disciples they’re supposed to be. In this moment he opens their eyes to the needs of one who is outside the group, restoring their sight so that they can see the human being in need of mercy, in need of healing that can only come from Jesus.

There is no lecture here. The crowd is not scolded for their blindness to the needs of another. They are not shamed for their lack of faithfulness. They are simply shown what it means to be in ministry. Stop, pay heed to the cry for help, give mercy and grace in the moment. The journey will wait. Jerusalem isn’t going anywhere. We’ll get there eventually. But if we pass by this person who needs our help, then what are we even doing?

The miracle here is that Bartimaeus receives his sight. The miracle is also that the crowd receives theirs as well. Yes, we’re on a journey, and it is good to go together, to be close to Jesus on the way. But if we leave behind those on the outside of the crowd, on the margins, if we ignore the ones whose needs cry out for our mercy, then we have lost the mission. If we rush around trying to accomplish so much, trying to keep up with the crowd, to be part of the number of the saints, we’ll miss what matters. We’ll miss the one who cries out, the one for whom faith is a matter of life and death, the one who throws off his cloak and springs up at the chance to come to Jesus.

It is good to be part of that number. It is wonderful to be counted among the faithful. But we are called to be more than a crowd following Jesus. We are called to be ministers in his name. It is in the encounters with the blind who want to see, the deaf who want to hear, the lame who want to walk, and the leper who wants to be cleansed that we truly come close to Jesus. It is in answering the cry for mercy, shining the light of hope, opening our hearts to give love that we find ourselves walking in the steps of Christ. When all around us is busy flowing on, may we have the faith to stand still and listen, to open our eyes and see.  Amen.

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[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

[2] African-American spiritual, author unknown.

Remembrance

October 3, 2021
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

1 Corinthians 11:23-26[1]

The celebration of the Lord’s Supper is the signature act of the church, the gathered community of Christians. Different traditions use different terms for this sacrament. The Lord’s Supper is a common way to refer to the act of remembering the last meal of Jesus with the disciples. Eucharist comes from the Greek word meaning “thanksgiving”. Mass, the term used by Roman Catholics, refers to a Latin phrase meaning “dismissal” or sent out in mission. Communion, the term we most often use, comes from a Latin word meaning “to share in common.”

When we celebrate Communion, we remember the meal that Jesus ate with the disciples in an upper room in Jerusalem the night before the crucifixion. We remember the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, and the promise to us of eternal life. We symbolically gather around a table to eat a meal together. Though we may call it an altar, it is really the Table of Christ, and the table belongs not to the church, but to Jesus.

As we know from the scriptures, the bread and the cup symbolize the body and blood of Christ. When the bread is broken and the juice or wine is poured into the cup and lifted up, we are reminded of the costliness of Christ’s gift of life and love. By sharing in the meal, we take part in the crucifixion and resurrection of Christ.

All Christians celebrate Communion, though the manner and understanding of the celebration vary. Some see the meal as a memorial, remembering the Last Supper Jesus shared with the disciples. Others see it as a sign or symbol of Christ’s presence in the bread and cup and in the congregation. Some believe that the bread and wine are transformed into the actual body and blood of Jesus.

In the meal itself, some churches use individual cups; some use a common cup. Some use small cubes of bread; some use unleavened bread or wafers; some use a whole loaf of bread. Some congregations serve Holy Communion in the pews; others invite worshipers forward to receive at stations. Around the world, and even just withing our denomination, there is a wide range of practices.

We offer grape juice along with wine for a couple of reasons. The Temperance Movement of the early 20^th century opposed the drinking of alcohol. This movement eventually led to the passage of the 18^th Amendment to the United States Constitution, known as Prohibition. Though Prohibition was repealed by the 21^st Amendment, many churches considered the switch to grape juice to be a good thing. We offer both wine and grape juice so that children may participate, and so that anyone who is an alcoholic may participate. The gluten in wheat bread may be dangerous to people with celiac disease. For this reason, some churches offer gluten-free bread during communion.

Christian denominations differ in whether non-members may receive Communion. For the first several hundred years, non-members were forbidden even to be present for the ritual; visitors and were dismissed halfway through the Liturgy, after the Bible readings and sermon but before the Eucharistic rite. Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox churches practice closed communion under normal circumstances. Some Protestant communities also exclude non-members from Communion. As a young person attending worship with a Catholic friend, it felt really contemptuous to not be able to take communion.

Most Protestant communities, including the United Church of Christ, practice open communion which is not limited to members, though some require that the person be baptized. Some congregations, like ours, offer communion to any individual who wishes to commemorate the life and teachings of Christ, regardless of religious affiliation. We call this the open table.

So, enough lecture. I want to tell you about some special celebrations of communion that I remember, and I hope that you have one or two that you remember as significant, also.

The first that I want to tell you about comes from missionaries in West Timor, Indonesia. In a small farming village, Karen and her husband John attended Gethsemane Church, part of the Evangelical John Christian Church of Timor. It was at the Gethsemane Church that Karen and I first had communion ‘round the cross. In that church, several long tables were arranged in the shape of a cross—about four tables long, with a table on each side of the second table to form the arms of the cross. Candles were placed down the middle of the cross, as much to keep the flies away from the bread and wine as to symbolize the light of salvation. One large chalice, filled with terribly sweet wine, and a whole loaf of bread resting on a tin platter were placed at the head of the cross. Trays of small communion glasses, filled with the same wine, and trays of de-crusted white bread cut into cubes, were placed between the candles.

There was a self-imposed dress code: white shirts and blouses, black skirts and trousers. Congregants dare not arrive late for communion; and, when it was time to begin, the doors would be closed and they would sit quietly in a sea of black and white, meditating on sin and redemption. With silent instructions from elders and deacons, congregants would quietly rise and gather around the cross, until the cross was encircled by worshippers. They were invited to sit with a hand gesture by the pastor.

A Bible passage was read, the words of institution recited to bless the sacrament, bread eaten, and wine drunk. Then the first group returned to their seats while the rest of the congregation sang a hymn and the next group took their seats around the cross. The ritual and words of institution remained the same, only the Bible passage changed with each round.

Karen remembers grumbling more than once about the amount of time this drama required as the congregation grew over the years. Towards the end of their time at Gethsemane Church, before several branch posts became full-fledged congregations, she remembers counting the rounds of worshippers around the cross—nearly 25 rounds that required a three and a half-hour service. Even now she remembers the sweat running down her forehead, arms, and legs; the loss of concentration; how singing in unison became a welcome reprieve from the words at the table that had become monotony as the hours passed.

One communion service Karen remembers with poignant clarity. She and John were amongst the last to arrive so that the only remaining seats were “front-row” close to the cross. As they waited for their turn, she began paying close attention to those who passed in front of her as people found a seat at the cross. There were dirty trousers frayed at the end, with cracked heels and calloused toes splayed over the tip of worn flip flops. There were elegant heels and the latest style in skirts. Some skirts were held closed at the waist with safety pins; leather were shoes polished to a shine. There were jackets and ties; frayed and dirty collars; all black and white, black and white passing in front of her, denoting the vast economic divides within that one congregation.

There were moments of intimacy, sitting side-by-side, shoulder-to-shoulder around the cross, to face each other across the divisions of class. The ritual crossed divisions through an act of symbolic common redemption, theologically intended for solidarity. Though she doesn’t miss the hours of sitting in a hot sanctuary with slowly-rotating wall fans that didn’t work half the time, she does miss the meaning, freedom, and ethics of true Christian community.

One memory I cherish of celebrating communion was as a leader of youth at a retreat event in Colorado. Having spent a weekend at camp, we gathered for worship. Our theme was from John 21, when the disciples had gone fishing after the crucifixion of Jesus. A man appeared on the shore, and shouted, “Have you caught any fish?” They answered him, “No.” He said to them, “Cast the net to the right side of the boat, and you will find some.” So they cast the net, and now they were not able to haul it in because there were so many fish.

The leader of our service led communion in silence. First, he reenacted the scripture, silently casting the net, then hauling us in. Then, he mimed a gathering around the table. He took the bread, silently breaking it and offering it to us. Then he took the cup, held it to his side to indicate the wound in Jesus’ side, then gestured that we should share it among us. We passed the cup in silence all around the circle. Imagine, a group of teenagers sharing the Lord’s Supper in perfect silence.

Finally, I remember a group of friends gathered at what must have been a Conference meeting. We were spending the night in the church, sleeping on the floor, because that was the cheapest housing option for the weekend. A woman who had been recently ordained led our small group up to the balcony overlooking the sanctuary. We sat on the floor, sharing stories of what we had been doing with groups of adults or youth in our churches. After a time, we grew quiet. Kelly produced a loaf of bread and a bottle of wine, hidden behind her, and in a moment of silence and awe, we passed the bread around, breaking off pieces to eat. We passed the bottle – this was pre-COVID – and each took a swallow. No one left that balcony with dry eyes.

Not every meal is communion. Not every glass of wine is sacred. But there are moments, sometimes unexpected, when the sacred comes in like a rush of the wind, and you know that the table is no longer yours, the bread is not common any more, and the wine is sacred. You remember, I’m sure, a moment when you knew the Spirit was present, and Christ was the host at the table. The disciples didn’t know at first what was really happening. But whenever two or three gathered in the time that followed, they recognized the risen Christ in the breaking of the bread.  Amen.

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[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.