Practicing Communion - "Gathering & Gospelling" Week 1

1 Corinthians 10:16-17

John 6:30-35

One of my favorite stories of experiencing God is one Sara Miles tells. Miles was an atheist living in San Francisco when she wandered into St. Gregory’s Episcopal Church on a Sunday morning. She writes that she’d never heard a Gospel reading or said the Lord’s Prayer, but she found a seat and took in the scene, and when the priest said, “Jesus invites everyone to his table” the whole gathering moved to a table that had some dishes and a pottery goblet on it. She goes on to write that after some standing and singing, someone pressed a piece of fresh, crumbly bread in her hands saying, “the body of Christ” and handed her the goblet of sweet wine saying, “The blood of Christ.” She ends this part of her story saying, “Then something outrageous and terrifying happened. Jesus happened to me.”[i]

Another story is one I witnessed this past Easter morning. We were still worshiping in the parking lot where we had been most every Sunday since October. And as I preached, I saw a man stop on the sidewalk on Marietta Street. He stood and listened, and as the hymn of the day played, I walked over and invited him to come closer and join us. He moved a little closer during the prayers, and when we received communion that morning, I took bread and wine to him where he stood, and he received it. And just like on that morning at St. Gregory’s, Jesus happened.

What we find in “the bread and wine set in God’s Word and bound to it” is the treasure of God’s promised forgiveness of sins for you and for me.[ii]

In his Large Catechism, Martin Luther wrote,

This treasure is opened and placed at everyone’s door, and yes, upon the table, but it also belongs to the sacrament to take it and confidently believe that it is just as the words [“given and shed for you”] tell you.

Addressing the crowd in John’s gospel Jesus says, “the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.” (6:33)

And they respond eagerly, commanding Jesus, “Lord, give us this bread always.” (6:34)

Hearing their enthusiasm, I remembered that Luther wrote,

If you could see how many daggers, spears and arrows are aimed at you at every moment, you would be glad to come to the sacrament as often as you can.

In the sacrament, Christ “gives himself for us, so that it is impossible for sin, death, hell and Satan to stand before him”, thrusting our weakness and his strength together, where they become one.[iii]

Today’s worship theme is “practicing communion” and while “practicing communion” begins with receiving this treasure from Christ, it doesn’t end there.

When we receive communion, we become one bread and one drink among another, as Paul said to the Corinthians. (1 Corinthians 10)

When you make bread all the grains of wheat are crushed and ground so that each grain becomes the flour of the others, and they’re all mixed together and not one grain of wheat retains its original form. Instead, each loses its body in order to become the one body of bread.

In the same way when you make wine, each grape mixes its juice with the others so that no single grape remains Each loses its form to become one drink. [iv]

Gathered here together as church, our many-ness becomes one-ness, and the result isn’t mealy or bland, sour or sharp. Instead, it is hearty, sweet and joy-filled.

“Practicing communion” nourishes us as we support the life with God we each have in faith.[v]

Faith is never only about Jesus and you. As much as God’s promise is for you, your witness to the faith that sustains you matters to others. Watching how you persevere in hard times. Witnessing the gratitude that you name in joyful times. Hearing your questions when you wrestle with God. Experiencing peace when you pray together.

Seeing how you care for all those whom God loves.

Practicing communion means your presence and participation in this body of Christ matters. Whether you are worshiping online or in the sanctuary, commit to not being a spectator but participating fully in worship, willing to be surprised by God’s work in and around you.

I hope that through our worship together over this six weeks, we will be able to name reasons we gather together and what difference our faith makes in our lives, and how your faith and witness makes a difference in the lives of the people you encounter.

Let us pray…

Good and gracious God,

Thank you for your Son Jesus, the One who brings life to the world.

Thank you for your forgiveness for our sins, and the strength to stand against evil.

Give us courage to practice communion at the Table and in our lives that we would be nourished by you and support one another in all things.

We pray in the name of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Amen.

[i] Sara Miles. Take this bread. 2007. 58.

[ii] Martin Luther. "The Sacrament of the Altar”, Book of Concord. LC 469:21-22.

[iii] Martin Luther. “Of the Holy Sacrament, and of Confession and Absolution”. 1523. 18.

[iv] ibid. 21

[v] Martha Grace Reese. Unbinding the Gospel. 14.

Maundy Thursday

Mark 14:22-25

Maundy Thursday is named after the command or mandatum that Jesus gives to his disciples. When you read John’s account of the last night that Jesus spent with his disciples, you witness him tie a towel around his waist and wash the feet of his friends and then you hear Jesus say,

I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. (John 13:34 NRS)

There’s no foot washing or similar command in Mark’s gospel; instead, what we witness in Mark is the breaking of the bread and the sharing of the cup.

It is the image we see in DaVinci’s painting of the Last Supper, where the twelve disciples are gathered around Jesus at a banquet table.

And it is the loving action that we live out, again and again, when we gather for Holy Communion.

Later in tonight’s service, for the first time since we began worshiping together online more than a year ago, we will hear the words of institution that we hear in Paul’s letter to the Corinthians and eat and drink, fully participating in this meal together.

The words “this is my body” remind us of the sacrifice Jesus makes for our sake, but the words “new covenant” remind us that the story doesn’t end with his death. In Christ, we are brought to new life and new relationship with God and with one another.

The meal is a visible expression of God’s love for us, the same love that Jesus speaks of when he is with his disciples. Through our participation, we become a community, called to follow Jesus and to love one another.

One of the astonishing things about this divine love is its inclusivity. As night falls, Jesus is with all twelve of his disciples. Judas is there with him. Judas ate at the table and had his feet washed by Jesus. One of the people who is closest to Jesus and then later betrays him is part of the beloved community Jesus forms here.

What that tells me is that even when sin takes hold of me ̶ when I am turned inward on myself, my resentments fester, or I put other idols before God ̶ even then, God welcomes me to the table. Adopted at baptism as a child of God, now God feeds me and nourishes me, and restores me to this new covenant relationship.

Throughout its history, religious people have tried to define who is clean and unclean, who is pious enough to earn God’s love, and whose actions disqualify them, costing them their seat at the Table. But Lutheranism teaches us that there is nothing we can do by our own merit or our own understanding to earn God’s love. Participation at the table is never about my worthiness, or yours.

It is about being in relationship with our God whose love for each and every one of us is seen in the breaking of the bread and the sharing of the cup, and heard in the words “given and shed for you.”

Let us pray…[i]
Good and gracious God,
Thank you for your Son Jesus of Nazareth, the living Christ whose love shocks, surprises, and far exceeds our understanding.
Forgive me when I am like Judas— the one who betrayed him, the one who failed to see the good right in front of him, the one who might have thought he wasn’t worthy of your love.
Create in me a new heart and mind, one that can see and hear you more clearly when you tell me you love me.
In your Holy Name we pray,
Amen.

[i] Adapted from a prayer by Sarah Are | A Sanctified Art LLC | sanctifiedart.org.

Lectionary 22C/ Proper 17

Luke 14:1, 7-14

Hearing this gospel text, a colleague joked that it made her grateful for place cards and I added my own gratitude for round tables!

But all joking aside, Jesus isn’t merely providing etiquette lessons or serving as an event coordinator in today’s gospel. His instructions about where one should sit when you’re invited to a feast, and who should be included when you are doing the inviting are blunt criticisms of the wisdom of the time.

In first century culture, there was a hierarchy to relationships that was not easily breached. Wealthy patrons controlled resources and meted them out to people of lower status based on personal knowledge and favoritism. Brokers, such as temple priests and city officials, mediated the relationships between patrons and those who needed the resources, and therefore had power of their own, power to determine access and to influence the patrons. And then there were the majority of the people, who were dependent upon the generosity of the patrons and the favor of the brokers. They paid for their favor with public professions of loyalty, and criticism would have been whispered or muted altogether.[i]

Also, at this time, the elite were separated physically from “the ‘am ha-’aretz”, the “people of the land” who were the laborers and tradespeople.[ii] The less influence or power you held, the farther from the city center you lived. And the cities had walls and gates that were locked at the end of the day, shutting out people who were undesirable or landless.[iii]

Likewise, table fellowship was designed to “keep out” the wrong sort of people. “Dinners were important social occasions that were used to cement social relations.”[iv] Perhaps the Pharisee invited Jesus to dinner because he believed he was his equal but it’s just as probable that the religious leader wanted to put the outsider in his debt.

Knowingly or not, when the Pharisee invited Jesus to the Sabbath meal, he set the stage for conflict. Jesus had already, on three previous occasions, been criticized for healing people on the Sabbath day, and in the verses that our reading skips, he heals a fourth man; only this time, his opponents are silent.

So now Jesus is there with the Pharisee and his other guests, and just as Jesus wasn’t content to let a hurting human being suffer one day more, he doesn’t hesitate to criticize the behavior he witnesses as they gather. He does not hold his tongue out of polite deference to his host. As Martin Luther would say, “He calls a thing what it is.”

The scene Luke describes is one of people scheming and conniving to get to the best seats at the table. As at celebrations you may have seen, the center table was the place of honor and the farther you move out from there, the less importance your seat holds. It’s human nature to want to move in toward the center and toward the position of power.

But Jesus cautions the dinner guests against that compulsion, arguing they should allow others to be seated first, and wait for the host to decide if they should be moved higher.

And he doesn’t stop there. Knowing that each has been invited, and because of their reciprocal relationships, will be expected to host in turn, he tells them whom they should include among their guests, saying,

when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. And you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you, for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous. (Luke 14:13-14)

It’s easy for us to dismiss the instructions Jesus gives,
believing we wouldn’t treat people as currency and relationships as bargaining chips or expect loyalty or privilege in return for our generosity.
It’s easy for us to forget how insulated our lives can become and how rarely we encounter people with different backgrounds, social or economic status.
And it’s easy to assume that everyone we know sees the world as we do (or at least they will when they come to their senses!)

But if we think Jesus isn’t talking to us, we miss out on what he is describing, which is the very reign of God:

• The reign of God that sees a person’s worth comes not from their position, status or wealth, or someone external measure of the person, but from their beloved createdness as a child of God.
• The reign of God that breaks down walls, crumbles barriers and erases division and replenishes love.
• The reign of God that is expansive, welcoming and healing because all of us are impoverished when we come before God. Our brokenness may be hidden better than our neighbor’s, but it is vividly displayed to God.

Every time we gather for Holy Communion, we are God’s guests at the heavenly banquet table. God, in divine goodness, flings wide open the doors and tells us to, “Come and feast at the table!”

One of my favorite practices from the School of the Spirit that I completed last year was that as we entered the retreat house, we left our titles at the door. We came into that space just as we were, without our resumés. To willingly empty ourselves and stand apart was a counter-cultural practice in a world that defines me by what I do, what I have, or what others say about me.

We don’t come to the Table seeking honor for ourselves, but seeking mercy. We come humble, stripped of the accomplishments we have and the accolades the world awards. We come hungry for the good gifts God offers us. And we are fed and nourished, and healed, to go out into the world as witnesses to God’s boundless love and mercy.

And then, following Jesus, we are told to extend the divine invitation, especially to those who have been excluded, dismissed or forgotten. We are reminded, as theologian John P. Burgess writes, that “Christ sits at all of our tables, calling us into fellowship with people from beyond our immediate circle.” [v]

Sending us into the world, beyond our comfort and norms, Jesus challenges us to invite others to the table, not to fill seats or make them indebted to us, but so that they would know God’s love and mercy in their lives. We have opportunities in the next few weeks for fellowship and service throughout next weekend’s “God’s Work, Our Hands” activities and in the following weekend’s congregation picnic, so I encourage you to ask,
“Who needs the comfort of knowing God sees and loves them?”
“Who could I invite to come to the table with me?”

Let us pray…
Gracious and welcoming God,
Thank you for hosting a banquet where all are invited and all are fed.
Thank you for your boundless compassion, mercy and love, shown by Your Son Jesus.
Forgive us when we turn in on ourselves and seek our own gains, disregarding the others around us.
By Your Holy Spirit, give us courage to speak up for the poor and dispossessed and to extend a divine welcome to all whom we meet.
We pray in the name of Jesus, our Lord and Savior.
Amen.

[i] Bruce Malina;Richard L. Rohrbaugh. Social Science Commentary on the Synoptic Gospels (Kindle Location 1138). Kindle Edition.
[ii] Malina and Rohrbaugh. Kindle Location 6218.
[iii] Malina and Rohrbaugh. Kindle Location 6234.
[iv] Malina and Rohrbaugh. Kindle Locations 6185-6186.
[v] Feasting on the Gospels--Luke, Volume 2: A Feasting on the Word Commentary. Westminster John Knox Press. Kindle Edition.

Maundy Thursday

Exodus 12:1-14

Throughout Holy Week our worship is a retelling of the events of the last week before Jesus was crucified. Luke tells us that after teaching each day in the Temple, at night Jesus went and slept on the Mount of Olives. (Luke 21:37) On Palm Sunday, we heard how he entered Jerusalem from there, and tonight is Maundy Thursday, named for the mandatum, or command, that Jesus gives his disciples in John’s Gospel “to love one another as I have loved you.”

But, unlike John’s gospel, none of the synoptic gospels — Matthew, Mark and Luke —have Jesus speak that command or wash the feet of his disciples. Instead, the focus in these gospels is the Passover meal that is shared between them.

The modern Passover meal or seder is not the same meal that Jesus ate with the disciples; many of the foods that are eaten and the traditions that shape that ritual today developed after the destruction of the Temple, more than forty years after Jesus’ crucifixion. Even so, understanding the Jewish Passover helps us understand the words that Jesus speaks at the Table in tonight’s gospel.

When Israel was living in slavery in Egypt under the rule of the Pharaoh, Moses and his brother Aaron went to the ruler and tried to negotiate freedom, and Pharaoh refused. Nine plagues struck the Egyptians but Pharaoh’s heart remained hardened. Then, on the night before a tenth plague struck, the Israelites were instructed to smear blood on their doorposts and lintel, and they were promised that the Lord would pass over them as he struck down the Egyptians.

The next day, Israel was delivered from slavery and, in the millennia since, the Jewish people have commemorated the exodus in the Passover meal that is described in our reading tonight. In this meal that is shared with friends and family, they retell the story of God’s deliverance, eating foods that symbolize different events in the biblical narrative, celebrating the day as a festival to the Lord and remembering the events throughout generations.

Tonight’s reading from Exodus Chapter 12 details how to prepare the Passover meal, and in the Hebrew, in verse 6, the writer’s words are, “It will be for you.” These are the same words we hear Jesus say when he tells the disciples his body is given, and the new covenant in his blood is poured out, for you. (Luke 22:19-20) God provides the gift of salvation — protection from death —for each one of us.

The liturgy of the Passover makes worshipers participants in God’s saving activity. Our liturgy of Holy Communion also renews our participation in God’s saving activity. In Holy Communion, we celebrate God’s Word, or promise of forgiveness of sin, joined with the earthly elements of wine and bread and the command to “do this for the remembrance of me.”

But the task of remembering is not passive.

Returning to the Exodus text, did you hear how Israel was instructed to eat their meal? (verse 11) The Lord said,

11 This is how you shall eat it: your loins girded, your sandals on your feet, and your staff in your hand; and you shall eat it hurriedly. It is the passover of the LORD.

As scholar Christopher Hays writes, “[God’s people] are commanded to be ready, at any moment, to move with God.”[i]

This meal isn’t a prolonged wedding feast with liters of wine, and it isn’t merely comfort food shared in thanksgiving. In this meal, we are both protected from death, which is separation from God, and we are given food for the baptismal journey which we are living.

This meal prepares us to give ourselves to the world.

As joyful as coming to this Table is, participating in this meal means taking a risk.[ii] Just as God delivered Israel, God delivers us and God expects us to be on the move and ready to follow Jesus when we’ve been fed.

We are invited to the meal but not just the meal; we are invited to life together. At the table we are bound to our brothers and sisters, and our welfare — our whole lives —are connected to one another. In his essay “Freedom of a Christian”, Luther wrote, “A man does not live for himself alone, …but lives also for every man on earth.”[iii]

There isn’t any expectation that we will follow Jesus perfectly. Judas, who betrays him, is at this table, and later on this same night, the disciples who shared bread and wine with Jesus flee when he is arrested. But God invites us anyway.

Tonight, as you come to be fed, know that Jesus “eagerly desires” to share in this holy meal with you. Hear the invitation not just to come and eat; but, quoting Luther again, to “give [yourself] as a Christ to [your] neighbor, just as Christ offered himself to you.”[iv]

Let us pray…
Holy God,
We remember Your mighty acts throughout history;
with thanksgiving we remember that by Your saving grace through Your Son Jesus You move us from sin to reconciliation, giving us the gift of salvation and new life,
that we would live, not for ourselves, but for the world.
Nourish us tonight at this Table and send us out guided by Your Holy Spirit to take risks for the sake of the world.
Amen.

[i] Bartlett, David L.. Feasting on the Word: Year C, Volume 2: Lent through Eastertide . Presbyterian Publishing Corporation. Kindle Edition.
[ii] Amy-Jill Levine. Entering the Passion of Jesus.
[iii] Martin Luther. “Freedom of a Christian.” Three Treatises. 301.
[iv] Luther. 304.

13th Sunday after Pentecost

John 6:51-58

For the last several weeks, I have been preaching on the lectionary texts and connecting what Jesus and the writer of the epistle to the Ephesians say about living in relationship with God, being reconciled to God and living together in unity and with purpose.

And, as I’ve been preaching, I have been connecting the texts with congregation values we have named at Ascension, including outreach, calling others to service and affirmation.

And we have seen that this way of life in faith connects back to our baptismal promises because it is at the font that we receive new life in the sacrament of holy baptism.

Today we see that this way of life in faith also looks ahead as we see how our life together points people to Jesus.

You may remember that the first twelve chapters of John’s Gospel are known as the Book of Signs because they bear witness to the many miracles that Jesus performed and interpreted to us. Instead of calling them miracles, the Fourth Evangelist calls them “signs” because they point beyond themselves, “to the power and the presence of God.”[i]

At the beginning of chapter six, Jesus feeds the five thousand, and then we get another fifty-three verses where Jesus is teaching why bread matters.

And, quickly, we know that Jesus is talking about more than just some flour and water. Preaching during the Passover, he recalls the familiar story of the exiles who received manna in the wilderness and then he describes this bread that comes down from heaven as something even greater.

Jesus says that this bread gives life to the world, (v. 32-33) and then he identifies himself as this “bread of life.” (v .35) And, he repeats those words as he points to what God is doing through him and promises eternal life or close communion with God.

Matthew, Mark, Luke and Paul all write about the sacrament of the altar — what we call interchangeably Holy Communion, the Eucharist or the Lord’s Supper — but the verses we have this week are the closest thing we have in John’s gospel to anything describing the establishment of the meal.

His audience was left wondering, “What is he talking about?” as he talked about eating flesh and drinking blood.  The eating language that Jesus uses includes a word that translates as gnaw, munch or even crunch, and outsiders accused ancient Christians of cannibalism because they mis-understood the meal. Instead, just as there are examples in Jewish thought where the Law is consumed and absorbed like food, the “flesh and blood” language demonstrates that at God’s table, we receive Jesus himself, and we are changed because Jesus lives in us.

While baptism is the beginning of new life in the family of God, the sacrament of the altar nurtures us for the journey of this life of faith, providing us with “living bread.”

Nourished and fed, we ourselves become signs pointing to Jesus.

Worship is one of those places where, as a congregation, we most clearly point to Jesus, beginning at the font where we experience new life; in our music and hymnody where we connect to the worldwide Church; and, in our hearing of the Gospel when we hear God’s promises to us.

And, describing Scripture, Luther said, “Here you will find the swaddling-clothes and the manger in which Christ lies” so whenever we engage God’s Word in study as adults or as confirmation students, we too are pointing to Jesus. 

But we point to Jesus when we are living our everyday lives outside of where we gather as a congregation. As beautiful as this space is, the building is not Ascension Lutheran Church; we are. We are the Body of Christ, fed by the bread of life.

When we leave this place and go to our neighborhoods, workplaces and schools, we are visible signs of God’s grace in a world where people only know church from headlines of abuse and misuse of power, or from funerals or weddings. Even if they are familiar with organized religion, they may not have experienced “a community that embodies God’s love and mercy in a meaningful way.”[ii]

Because Jesus abides in us, God remains in relationship with us, constantly forming and re-forming us, working in our lives and refining us that we may more clearly point to Jesus, and to the forgiveness and love that God offers each one of us.

Let us pray…
Redeeming God,
Thank you for sending your Son Jesus,
whose blood was shed and flesh was pierced on the cross,
and for forgiving our sin.
May we come to the table to receive the bread of life that nourishes us and go out into the world, strengthened by your Holy Spirit, that our lives would always point to your goodness and mercy.
Amen.

[i] “John,” EntertheBible.org, Luther Seminary.
[ii] Diana Butler Bass. Christianity after Religion. 26

Maundy Thursday

Mark 12:22-42

Grace, mercy and peace to you from God our Father and from our LORD Jesus Christ.

I don’t know about you but many of my favorite memories feature food. I often tell a story about my grandmother, who didn’t bake, except for meringues, but she always had pantry shelves filled with Pepperidge Farm cookies. I remember too, as a child, going to my friend’s Polish Catholic parish where we ate cabbage rolls, potatoes and sweet pastries. I remember Sunday brunch with hearts of palm and dinners where roast beast was carved at the table. I remember my mother’s paella and coq au vin and eating barbecue and Brunswick stew from Creedmoor. But these food memories aren’t just from childhood.

Two years ago, a group of folks here in Shelby created a community Thanksgiving meal.
Inviting people to come and eat,
they took donations of turkeys and side dishes, sweet tea and desserts;
they prayed before the meal to bless the gifts of food and presence that had been given;
they broke bread, opened chafing dishes of mashed potatoes and green beans, uncovered pie plates and tins of cookies;
and gave the bounty to the neighbors who gathered.

Somehow gathering around a table for a meal fills more than our bellies and nourishes our bodies; it contents our hearts and strengthens us for what lies ahead.

Tonight, on Maundy Thursday, named for the mandatum, or command, that Jesus gives his disciples in John’s Gospel “to love one another as I have loved you,” we inhabit another part of the story from the night of Jesus’ arrest — the meal. In John’s Gospel, it is not a Passover meal, but in the synoptic gospels – Mark, Matthew and Luke – it is, and that’s significant because the Passover meal is not just about sated appetites, full bellies and nourished bodies; it is an act of remembering the mighty act of God’s salvation — God’s rescue —from death and slavery.

The people of Israel were enslaved by the king of Egypt, and when he would not free them, God promised judgment against the people there; the Israelites were told to mark their doorposts with the blood of a slaughtered lamb and the blood would be a sign of the covenant they had with God, and God would pass over their households and save them. (Exodus 12) After his own people suffered God’s judgment, Pharaoh let the Israelites go and they fled Egypt but throughout their journey to the Holy Land, God accompanied them.

In the same way, the meal we share at the Table every time we celebrate Holy Communion together remembers the mighty act of God’s salvation in our lives.

In his Small Catechism, Martin Luther explains, “The words ‘given for you’ and ‘shed for you’ for the forgiveness of sins show us that the forgiveness of sin, life and salvation are given to us ….”[i] “The treasure is opened and placed …upon the table [for everyone.]”[ii]And he reminds us that it is not our eating and drinking that do it, but “the bread and wine set within God’s Word and bound to it.”[iii]

Daily, we are in bondage to sin and cannot free ourselves. But, unfailingly, God rescues us, delivering us “from sin, death and the devil.”[iv]

Again, hear Martin Luther’s teaching, “There are so many hindrances and attacks of the devil and the world that we often grow weary and faint at times even stumble…the devil is a furious enemy;…when he cannot rout us by force, he sneaks and skulks at every turn, trying all kinds of tricks, and does not stop until he has finally worn us out….For times like these, …the Lord’s Supper is given to bring us new strength and refreshment. ”[v]

On this Maundy Thursday night, like the disciples often did, we want to deny what is going to happen to Jesus. We want to remember the scene the way Leonardo Da Vinci painted it: an upper room with a festive table overflowing with food and wine where Jesus and his disciples gathered. We want the garden to be filled with birds’ night song and the sweet aroma of fresh blooms, instead of the shouts of soldiers and the pungent smell of burial spices.

But tonight, especially, we cannot deny Jesus’ fate. Gathered here tonight, we are bearing witness not to a farewell party, but to the last meal of a condemned man, because we cannot get to the joy of Easter without first seeing Jesus stripped and mocked and finally, executed.

As darkness falls, we join the whole company of disciples around the world and across time who come to this Table, confessing our sin and naming our need for God, confident that God gives us “food for the soul [ that] nourishes and strengthens [us for what lies ahead.]”[vi]

Thanks be to God.

[i] Martin Luther, “Small Catechism,” Book of Concord. 362.
[ii] Martin Luther. “Large Catechism,” Book of Concord. 470.
[iii] ibid 467.
[iv] ibid 459
[v] ibid 469.
[vi] ibid

Who are the Saints?

 

On June 22, I was ordained and installed as pastor at Ascension Lutheran Church in Shelby, NC. The gathered leaders included Rev. Leonard Bolick, Bishop of the NC Synod; Rev. Dr. Mark Fitzsimmons, Lutheran Church of the Nativity, Arden; Rev. Ernest Ridenhour, Pastor Emeritus, Lutheran Church of the Nativity, Arden; Rev. Sara Ilderton, St.Luke’s Lutheran Church, Charlotte; Rev. Richard Handschin, Retired; Rev. Edwin Ehlers, Retired Bishop of New Jersey Synod; Rev. Dr. Mary Shore, Lutheran Church of the Good Shepherd, Brevard; Rev. Christopher Webb, St. Mark’s Lutheran Church, Asheville; Heather George, AIM, Lutheran Church of the Nativity, Arden; Rev. Beth Woodward, Rev. Josh Tucker and retired pastors Rev. Margaret Ashby, Rev. William Battermann, and Rev. Ed Barrett.

On my first Sunday morning in the pulpit, we remembered the martyred saints Peter and Paul, seeing how God is present in our lives even when we stumble along the way and even in the midst of our differences and divisions.

Sunday, June 29, 2014
Feast of the Apostles, Saints Peter and Paul
 Acts 12:1-11
2 Timothy 4:6-8, 17-18 
John 21:15-19

 Listen Now!

If you are following the Revised Common Lectionary, these are the daily readings for the coming week (June 30 to July 5):
Mon., June 30     1 Kings 21:1-16; 1 Thessalonians 4:9-12; Psalm 119:161-168 

Tues., July 1     1 Kings 21:17-29; 1 John 4:1-6; Psalm 119:161-168 

Wed., July 2     Jeremiah 18:1-11; Matthew 11:20-24; Psalm 119:161-168 

Thurs., July 3     Zechariah 1:1-6; Romans 7:1-6; Psalm 145:8-14 

Fri., July 4     Zechariah 2:6-13; Romans 7:7-20; Psalm 145:8-14 

Sat., July 5     Zechariah 4:1-7; Luke 10:21-24; Psalm 145:8-14

Friday Five (and it's still Friday!)

So this week's FridayFive asks:

1. What does the Lord's supper/ Eucharist mean to you?
2. How important is preparation for this, and what form does it take?
3. What does baptism mean to you?
4. How important is preparation for baptism and what form does it take?

When I began the conversation with my church about being called to rostered ministry, the question of how central to my call was being able to administer the Sacraments was *the* question that made all the other questions fade into the background. The presence of Christ in the bread and the wine and the living-ness of God’s promise of forgiveness and new life sustain me.

One of my favorite descriptions of the sacraments comes from Dirk Lange and Christian Scharen, two of my worship professors at Luther Seminary:

Baptism brings you into the family of God and coming to the Table teaches you how to live in that family.

(Hopefully I haven't butchered the paraphrase)

It's a question others may debate, but for me, infant baptism is one of the ways we witness the depth of God's grace and understand that it a gift freely given by God to each of us. An unearned gift. We are forgiven and it does not come from any merit or worthiness of our own at all.

What I want for adults and for families though is for the catechumenate process of learning what God promises and how we are called into life, to renew our lives daily and live into the fullness of life in Christ, to be transformational.

Similarly, I want people to grasp the joy of being welcomed to the Table and of being loved despite our brokenness. For my congregation, part of preparing to come to the Table is participating in the order of confession and forgiveness where we hear our sins are forgiven. Even on my ugliest, most bitter day; my most despairing or exhausting day; my grief or anger. Even then.

How about you?

p.s. Sally also asked whether we had a quote, poem or song that helps us come before God in a sacramental way...will you share yours?