Great Pumpkins! Hallowe'en and the Church (and All Saints) Hebrews 12:1-2 November 1, 2015 Keswick United Church

Hebrews 12:1-2    

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.”     

This sermon is dedicated to my Dad, Rev. Russell Vickers, who died at the end of January 2004. In going through Dad’s sermons, I found one specifically about Hallowe'en, All Hallows and All Saints. The sermon is also dedicated to my mother, Kay Vickers, whose birthday was November 1, All Saints Day.

The sermon grew out of several things. Back in 2004, I saw an item in the news about one family which was not celebrating Hallowe'en because they considered it 'un-Christian' - they claimed dressing up as witches and goblins is a 'pagan' thing, not suitable for Christians. I was a little bemused, but then a couple of days later overheard a conversation at the check-out counter in the grocery store, about the non-Christian aspects of Hallowe'en. Just recently I saw an article about an evangelical church group in the US which is celebrating “Jesus-ween” as an alternative to Hallowe’en. Again this year there have been all kinds of articles about the evils of Hallowe’en, and how good Christians should not observe this time, as it promotes evil.

It was and is clear to me that people simply don’t understand where Hallowe’en even originated - so they have an opinion, based in a lack of knowledge of anything outside their own personal experience, and try to put Christianity into a festival where it has been, one way or another, for hundreds of years anyway.

So, I have two thoughts to begin with - and of course a few more after that. First, in our scramble to be 'right', without even knowing the background of where our holidays come from, we can surely suck a lot of the joy out of life. To me, life would be flat and stale without at least one witch on a broomstick, or a ghost or small-sized devil out collecting plunder at the door! And costumes can be much more creative these days. My sister one year created a costume called the Sugar Plum Fairy, from the story of the Nutcracker. A few years ago one of my granddaughters was a firefighter, one was Xena the Warrior Princess, and my grandson was a knight. Their choice of character was fascinating. They had a wonderful time, and so did Grandma.

Second, Hallowe'en is as Christian a celebration as any we have. Christmas and Easter also incorporate elements of what we call "pagan" faiths. The Advent wreath was originally a huge wagon wheel hung from the ceiling of a meeting hall, decorated with evergreens and lit with candles. The Christmas tree was purely a Druidic symbol, and the Hebrew Scripture contains the admonishment never to cut green trees. The Yule log, and the word Yule, is an old Viking addition. The egg at Easter was originally a pagan symbol, yes, but it denotes rebirth and new life. The same holds true of the Easter bunny. The early missionaries to what are now called the British Isles and the Celtic peoples, used those existing Celtic Druidic festivals as a vehicle for conversion to the new Roman faith.

For the Celts, November 1 marked the beginning of a new year and the coming of winter. The night before their new year in the old calendar, they celebrated the festival of Samhain (Saween), in which the god of the earth died, to be reborn in the spring when new life returned. At the spring solstice, called Beltane, the god rose again, the days lengthened, and life returned to the earth.

With the rise of Christianity, the festival of Samhain was changed to Hallowmas, or All Saints, to commemorate the souls of the blessed dead who had been canonized that year. The night before became known as All Hallows Eve, or Hollantide. November 2^nd became All Souls Day, when prayers were to be offered to the souls of all departed and those who were waiting in Purgatory for entry into Heaven. Throughout the centuries, pagan and Christian beliefs intertwined in celebrations from October 31st right through to November 5^th. - but in the end Hallowe’en - All Hallows -  and All Saints, became the lasting Christian celebrations.

During this festival of Samhain, the Celts believed that the barrier or veil between this world and the next, were at their thinnest, hence the souls of the dead could return to mingle with the living. Coincidentally, Christians believed the very same thing. Candles were placed in windows, to light the way for spirits to return to their homes. An extra place was set at the dinner table in case the spirit came. In order to scare away evil spirits which might cross over, people wore masks and costumes, lit bonfires, and carved out turnips and rutabagas, and put a candle inside, as a lamp to light the way.

When the Romans conquered the Celts, they added their own touches to the Samhain festival; they made centerpieces out of apples and nuts for Pomona, the Roman goddess of the orchards. They also bobbed for apples and drank cider. Sound familiar?

Let's jump back a little in our Christian history. In 835, Pope Gregory IV decided to move the celebration for all the martyrs (later all the saints) from May 13 to November 1. The name “All Hallows Even” or 'All Holy Evening’ was contracted into our more modern word Hallowe’en. It coincided perfectly with the Celtic celebration of Samhain and the Roman festival of Pomona - and the similarities of the coming of the dark, and the rise of the light in the spring, were not lost on the early missionaries.

On November 2, the Church celebrates All Souls Day. These were feast days in the church, and their purpose was to remember those who have died, whether they were officially recognized by the Church as saints or not. It is a celebration of the 'communion of saints,' which reminds us that the Church is not bound by space or time. But while the church creatively substituted its own celebration, it also retained some elements of the pagan faith, which fit in with the superstitions of the time. Bear in mind that in the early medieval church, witches and warlocks, imps, goblins, and evil souls were all part of the lore. Dressing up in costume to scare these 'evil' things became a part of the whole, from the Christian perspective as well as the Druidic.

The modern view of death derives in part from Pre-Hispanic times, notably the Aztecs, who believed that after a person died, the soul would pass through nine levels prior to their final destination, Mictlan - the place of the dead. They also believed that a person's destiny was founded at birth and that the soul of that person was dependent on the type of death rather than the type of life led by that person. How a person died would also determine what region they would go to. Once they arrived in their specific region a person's soul would either await transformation or linger, awaiting the next destiny. The tenth month of the Aztec calendar included a great feast for dead adults. The Spanish Conquest of 1521 brought about the fusion of Catholic attitudes and indigenous beliefs. All Souls Day in Central and South American churches became the Day of the Dead, and it is a result of amalgamation of Pre-Spanish Indian ritual beliefs and the imposed ritual and dogma of the Catholic church.

So the three days - Hallowe'en, All Saints and All Souls - are just enough of a mishmash of different pieces of history and elements of many belief systems, that to eliminate any one of them is a foolish and useless exercise. We cannot separate our Christian faith and its non-Christian roots, and I don’t think we should. I think we need to look at them in their context.

But we can look at the Christian meaning that was once given to Hallowe'en - that we are an imperishable community from all across the ages. Hallowe'en in its Christian meaning is a source of courage and strength. Do we find it hard to stand up for justice, fair treatment, truth? Let's not forget that we are not the first generation of people to face such issues. Others have walked this same road in some way, in another time, and with the grace of God have come through it.

In the mid twentieth century, there was a great revolution in Hungary. Crowds gathered in the square named for the poet Sandov Petofi, who in 1848 launched the revolution against the Hapsburg monarch. A voice in the crowd shouted out "we vow we can never be slaves" - a line from one of his poems. Two hundred thousand marched to the statue of Josef Bem, hero of 1848 who fought for freedom. Surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses, they found courage.

In my mind, that parallel between a belief in a God of the earth who dies in the fall, only to rise again in the spring, is a strong one. Yes, we believe Jesus rose on the third day - but once again, clearly the parallels of dying and rising were not lost on the early missionaries to the Celtic peoples. They creatively found a way to use existing practices in the new country, to explain Christianity and make new converts.

Finally, I want to tell a story of a little boy named Linus, from the Peanuts comic strip. Linus believes in a strange hybrid of a jack-o-lantern, Santa Claus and prophetic saintly God-character named "The Great Pumpkin." Linus believes the Great Pumpkin will arise from the most sincere Pumpkin Patch on Halloween night and deliver toys to all the true believing children. Of course, Linus actually wants to be in the garden when the benevolent giver of Halloween toys rises from among the pumpkins. What's important, I think, is that Linus believes. He's never seen the Pumpkin, yet he believes that this saintly and benevolent character exists - he goes into the Pumpkin Patch every year, hopeful - and never gives up.

We have those saints who have gone before, to dispel the darkness and light the way - call them Great Pumpkins if you like - they light the way and they help us to keep in our sight the light of the world, the author and perfecter of our faith, Jesus Christ. By understanding the origins of Hallowe'en, we also find ourselves invited into the grandeur of the community of the cloud of witnesses which will never perish and which is never touched by death.

The early Christians, first dispersed by fear and the loss of Jesus, soon found themselves coming together again, a community of living saints bound by faith and a vision - a light in the darkness, the light of faith and commitment. When we come together as a community - yes, to celebrate Hallowe'en or All Hallows, and All Saints, we remember that we are surrounded here in this community, in this church, by the witness of those who have gone before, who support us unseen.

And let’s enjoy the fun and frolic of Hallowe’en, the little faces at the door, the funny costumes - and the joy children get from it. Let’s not try to put meanings into it which were never there, those excesses demonstrated in Hollywood movies. Let’s not take the fun out of our life, and out of our faith, because we are afraid of something which really holds no threat at all. Remember that those carved and lit pumpkins are the remnant of a belief in lighting the way; they are to dispel the darkness, banish fears and give courage and faith when all seems dark.

And so today, we celebrate the souls of all those who have gone ahead, the great cloud of witnesses which stands all around us. We celebrate the joy of faith, knowing where we came from, and believing in where we are going. May it be so.

Sources:

1. “Hallowe’en and the Saints” a sermon by Rev. Russell K. Vickers

2. “Great Pumpkins! Hallowe’en and the Church” (or How to Take All the Fun out of Life). A sermon by Rev. Fran Ota, October 2004.

Original paper published in the book “Treat or Trick: Hallowe’en in a Globalising World” , Cambridge Scholars Press, 2007.

“Sure, Why Not?” (Who’s the Greatest) a sermon based on Mark 10:35-45 October 18, 2015 Keswick-Ravenshoe Pastoral Charge

 James and John, Zebedee’s sons, came up to him. “Teacher, we have something we want you to do for us.”

 “What is it? I’ll see what I can do.”

“Arrange it,” they said, “so that we will be awarded the highest places of honor in your glory—one of us at your right, the other at your left.”

 Jesus said, “You have no idea what you’re asking. Are you capable of drinking the cup I drink, of being baptized in the baptism I’m about to be plunged into?”

 “Sure,” they said. “Why not?”

Jesus said, “Come to think of it, you will drink the cup I drink, and be baptized in my baptism. But as to awarding places of honor, that’s not my business. There are other arrangements for that.”

When the other ten heard of this conversation, they lost their tempers with James and John. Jesus got them together to settle things down. “You’ve observed how godless rulers throw their weight around,” he said, “and when people get a little power how quickly it goes to their heads. It’s not going to be that way with you. Whoever wants to be great must become a servant. Whoever wants to be first among you must be your slave. That is what the Son of Man has done: He came to serve, not to be served—and then to give away his life in exchange for many who are held hostage.”

This week, I posted on Facebook a photo of myself and a friend, at the big preaching festival in Denver last May. Diana Butler Bass has written several books including “Christianity for the Rest of Us”, and "Christianity After Religion". Her latest book, called “Grounded:  Finding God in the World; A Spiritual Revolution" is also now in print, and Diana is out on the road, speaking about the process of writing this book, which is completely different than anything else she has done before. And there we are in the photo, arms around each other – me noting that I am being a Diana Groupie, and letting a little of the shine from her rub off.

Two days prior I also posted a photo of Rev. Michael Curry, another friend who I met at the preaching festival – who is now Archbishop Michael Curry, and is the Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church in the United States. Hoping a little of that shine will rub off too.

We all like to have a little of the shine rub off from others, don’t we? If they are famous, well-known, admired, powerful. Wealthy – don’t we want to just kind of slide in there and bask in the glow, and maybe even get a place on one side or the other? I am proud of Diana and excited for this next step in her career – she is a wonderful thoughtful writer; I am proud of Michael Curry, the first black Presiding Bishop ever. And that’s good.

There’s a fabulous scene in the movie “Elf”, where the Elf spots Santa, and starts hopping up and down, shrieking “I know him!!!! I know him!!! There’s a little of that in each one of us, isn’t there? Be honest, don’t we love to say we know someone? I do – I love them as friends, and I love that I’ve been able to get to know them – and sometimes isn’t there a little of that “Neener –neener” one-upmanship attached to it as well? We are human , and humans generally like to be associated with, or rub elbows with, someone who is well-known. Get a little of that shine.

Well, let’s look a little closer at this picture. The disciples have been on the road, probably for several days. If we read the Gospel of Luke we learn that there were women travelling with them, so it isn’t just thirteen guys doing this trip – it’s a whole tribe. The women are tired, the kids are grizzling, they can’t go very fast. It’s hot and dusty, and after awhile everything on the road looks the same. They have interrupted their lives to follow Jesus – James and John essentially left Zebedee, their father, holding the business together while they were gone.

Jesus has already told the disciples twice before what will happen to him. Mark 8 – Jesus had just finished feeding almost ten thousand people. He was very specific about being arrested and killed, but that he would rise again after three days. Peter protested, tried to get him to be quiet. Jesus responded by telling Peter to get out of his way, and said  “Anyone who intends to come with me has to let me lead. You’re not in the driver’s seat; I am. Don’t run from suffering; embrace it. Follow me and I’ll show you how. Self-sacrifice is my way, to saving yourself, your true self. What good would it do to get everything you want and lose the real you?”

The second time Jesus spoke about his death was right after the transfiguration. First, the disciples have wanted to stay on the mountaintop, and hang on to the moment, a little of that shine. When they get down from the mountain and back on the road, they start to argue about who is the greatest. Jesus says “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” That’s Chapter 9 of Mark.

So here is Jesus in Chapter 10 explaining it to them all over again. How many times does he have to say it? James and John go off into a huddle, and then come back with a question for Jesus: “Will you give us what we ask?” “What do you want me to do for you?” he says.

Well, they want to know if Jesus can arrange it so they sit on his right and left when he comes into his glory. And when the other ten hear about it, they are really angry at James and John, and an argument ensues – and Jesus has to get in the middle of this free for all and get them to shut up. He asks them “Can you go where I am going, drink the cup I am about to drink.” – and like smarmy kids who think they can do everything anyone else can do, they respond “Sure, why not? Yep, oh yeah, Jesus, we are SO up for that. You betcha.”

They don’t get it. This is the third time around, and they still haven’t got it. It’s almost like they’re the fumbling, bumbling Keystone cops who just can’t get anything right. Two request the places of honour, and somehow haven’t got the point that the place of honour is a cross, and the right and left are also crosses.

Now, historically the Jews were anticipating two Messiahs – a great military messiah who would bring about a revolution which would push the Roman oppressors out, the other a spiritual messiah. It’s possible that James and John really thought Jesus was to be the great military one, who would use his incredible power to overcome the Romans – and of course, when he came into his glory, they’d be right there rubbing shoulders and picking up some shine.

But Mark paints them as just not that bright. They just honestly didn’t get it. They didn’t really listen. Jesus has practically hit them over the head with talk of his coming death, and they just don’t get it. Like most humans, they’re hung up on earthly power, and try to get in ahead of everyone else, which causes serious divisions.

 

I can visualise Jesus doing a quiet face-palm, a couple of heavy sighs, and then patiently beginning to explain again. He points out that for those who are not Jewish (and I suspect even those who are) tend to allow those whom they recognize as their rulers to be a tyrant over them. And then goes on to say that among those who follow his way, whoever wants to become great must be a servant, and whoever wishes to be first must be slave of all.

Biblical scholars tell us that of the four Gospels, the writer of Mark tended to paint the disciples as slow on the uptake, - for Mark, they just weren’t very quick to see what is made painfully obvious to the reader.

John Calvin spoke of the “bright mirror of vanity” in this text and notes that even with an honest commitment there is the pitfall of ambition. These are human issues which are as old as time - those who would lead often begin to seek their own benefit and glory rather than the benefit of others – and the corollary to that is that those around them want to set themselves up in line for some of the ‘shine’ accorded the leaders. “Wherever we look, whether in government, academia, business or the church, we face the problem of how to align the interests of the leaders with the interests of followers, and an overall mission.”

Mark really does address the issue of disciples, followers, people who say they are committed, putting themselves first, over against Jesus’ comments that the last will be first, and those who fall into thinking they are first, will be last. Jesus goes further and says that in order to become great, one has to give up everything and become as a servant to others. There’s no other way. And they don’t get it. We can’t become great by rubbing shoulders with great people, and picking up a little shine here and there. Once we put ourselves and our own interests first, we’ve lost the way of Jesus. Yet often we don’t get it either; or we get it, but learn to rationalise what is wrong, and our own self-interests. Jesus is saying that true transformation happens through being a servant, not a lord. Jesus is the model of wholeness we are called to follow, and through following that model we become the servants. Following Jesus, even in unorthodox ways, leads to transformation and wholeness. So we accept our human-ness, our propensity to get distracted by the shine from others, and we continue to strive to be transformed. May it be so.

Sources:

1.      “Right and Left” a sermon on Mark 10:35-45 by Christina Berry, First Presbyterian Church , Sterling, Illinois.

2.      John Calvin, quoted in ‘Feasting on the Word’ commentary on the texts, James J. Thompson, C. Clifton Black, David Howell.

“Dreams” a sermon based on Psalm 126 and Matthew 6:25-33 Thanksgiving Sunday October 10, 2015

It seemed like a dream, too good to be true,   when God returned Zion’s exiles.
We laughed, we sang,  we couldn’t believe our good fortune.
We were the talk of the nations—  “God was wonderful to them!”
God was wonderful to us; we are one happy people.

And now, God, do it again—   bring rains to our drought-stricken lives
So those who planted their crops in despair  will shout hurrahs at the harvest,
So those who went off with heavy hearts will come home laughing, with armloads of blessing.

                                                                                                                        (The Message)

Matthew 6:25-33

“If you decide for God, living a life of God-worship, it follows that you don’t fuss about what’s on the table at mealtimes or whether the clothes in your closet are in fashion. There is far more to your life than the food you put in your stomach, more to your outer appearance than the clothes you hang on your body. Look at the birds, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, careless in the care of God. And you count far more to him than birds. Has anyone by fussing in front of the mirror ever gotten taller by so much as an inch? All this time and money wasted on fashion—do you think it makes that much difference? Instead of looking at the fashions, walk out into the fields and look at the wildflowers. They never primp or shop, but have you ever seen color and design quite like it? The ten best-dressed men and women in the country look shabby alongside them. If God gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers—most of which are never even seen—don’t you think he’ll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? What I’m trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God’s giving. People who don’t know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.” (The Message)

Several years ago, I did a Jewish-Scottish Presbyterian wedding. A Jewish friend had converted to Christianity and become and Anglican priest. His conversion was a very sore point in his family, and although he could have done the ceremony, he decided a different minister was better. I worked hours, crafting a wedding service which incorporated elements ofboth Jewish and Christian weddings. After the ceremony was over, an elderly Jewish man came to me with tears in his eyes, irate because I had not related the story of the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem, which should be in all Jewish weddings, he said.

The Babylonian exile, approximately 550 years before Jesus’ birth, is the period in Jewish history during which members of the ancient Kingdom of Judah were captives in Babylon. Here’s the brief version. King Nebuchadnezzar attacked Jerusalem, forcing tribute from King Jehoiakim. In the fourth year Jehioakim decided to stop paying – this led to another siege, exile and the destruction of the temple and Jerusalem. After the Persian king Cyrus the Great took Babylon, the exiled Jews were allowed to return to Judah. According to the Book of Ezra, construction of a second temple in Jerusalem began around this time. All these events are part of the greater historical narrative which has formed the Jewish identity. 
 
However, the return of the exiles was not a big exodus, but was stretched out over several years. Many did not live to return to Judah, some had never even seen it.

So we have a ‘Pilgrim Song’, in two parts: Part 1 the first group of exiles has returned to Jerusalem. It seemed like a dream, they said – God set us free to return to Zion. Nations spoke of how we were simply let go. Our God was good to us, our dreams had come true, we were finally freed to go home.
Then the tone of the song changes; God is called upon to do it again. Bring the rest of them home, those who are still dreaming about a life of freedom. Those who left in tears of lament will return with tears of joy.

Now, the exile was long enough that some had never been to Jerusalem. Yet they dreamed too –  they would go back to Judah,  rebuild the temple, to begin a life in their ‘home’, even though the only home they had known was in Babylon.

Listen to another song of lament, in Psalm 137:  ^“We were sitting by the rivers of Babylon.  We wept when we remembered what had happened to Zion. On the nearby poplar trees we hung up our harps. Those who held us as prisoners asked us to sing. Those who enjoyed hurting us ordered us to sing joyful songs. They said, “Sing one of the songs of Zion to us!”

How can we sing the songs of God while we are in another land? Jerusalem, if I forget you,
may my right hand never be able to play the harp again. If I don’t remember you, may my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth so I can’t sing. May it happen if I don’t consider Jerusalem to be my greatest joy.”

So God has brought home some of the exiles, who laugh and sing – it was the one thing they had dreamed about, going back home. They were a happy people. But there were those left behind  – those who still were weeping. That grief was passed on to generations who never knew Jerusalem. “If only”. They said “If our God had only saved us, it would have been enough.” It wasn’t enough. There were more ‘if onlies’ - if only we had the temple back, if only we were in Jerusalem, everything would be better….lament and grief. God’s song forgotten.

So Part 2 of this Psalm is a supplication/command, for God to bring the rest home – those who planted crops in Babylon weeping in grief would return with harvests of joy, dancing and singing. Rain on the parched lives of those who were still not home, and rain on the parched lives of those who waited for the rest.

Rev. Margaret Bain, who taught the Interim Ministry course which I took a couple of weeks ago, told the story of an old basket, sitting empty in her garage. Her son, while cleaning, asked if he could throw it out. She said no, and when he asked why, she said her mother – his grandmother – had emigrated to Canada from Finland in 1912, and brought all her worldly possessions in that basket. Everything she owned. And her son replied “Then we keep it.”

And butting up against that text is Matthew. But I wonder if Jesus is speaking not to those who have had the experience of exile, but speaking to the people who have no idea what that was like for their ancestors. They have an emotional connection – Zion as a state of emotion – but no real understanding. Jerusalem is a place, and Zion the state of mind. They repeat, time after time after time down through generations, the story of the destruction of the temple, the exile to Babylon, and the return to Zion. And then there they are, generations later, still worrying about where the food comes from, whether or not they have the right clothing, or the latest jewelry, or the best homes, or a good horse to ride. And Jesus says “Wait a minute? Aren’t you people of God? Where is your faith”

How about us today? All of us are immigrants to this land in one way or another. Some know the fear of just running from religious or political or economic persecution; some saw and endured horrendous things. Some had to get on the first ship out with the clothes on their backs; or trek through other countries till a port and a ship could be found, and escape discovery. Some made a conscious choice to give up everything, and come here with a basket holding their most treasured things. Finland and Norway were the poorest countries in Europe at one time; Ireland was another.

And today here we are, some of us descended through generations, some new Canadians. Some who have given up everything to get here, who still remember what exile is like, what running is like – and are grateful for their new life. Then there are some who came by choice, making a conscious decision to move. And then there are some of us who really know little about making such a drastic change. All of us have a life here, right now.

So Jesus isn’t addressing those who really are poor, or really are oppressed, or really hungry or suffering. Jesus is looking us straight in the eye today and saying “Can anything improve by your worrying about where the food comes from? Or if you have the most fashionable clothing? Or the best car? Or the biggest house? Think! Get out into the fields, look at some of the wildflowers – often not seen. Be committed to God and God’s initiative. You can’t extend your life by worry.”

Jesus is trying to get us to focus on what is really important. Not to worry about going back, not to get stuck in the dreams of what it would be like “if only”. Not to carry lament for generations, instead of learning to sing God’s song in a new place. Not to lament how our church has changed, but to sing songs of trust in God, even when the future is uncertain. He wants us to focus on giving instead of getting; focus on living in the here and now, focus on being God-centred, to lean into God’s initiatives in the world, to give in order that all of God’s people can have enough.. He asks us to focus on what we do have, and to sing God’s song in this place, outside the doors of this place, and in the world; not songs of lament for what is past and gone, but songs of Thanksgiving for what is, here and now! May it be so.

Sources:

1.      Wednesday lectionary study group.

2.      Harper’s Bible Commentary

3.      Cambridge Bible for Schools and Colleges

4.      https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Babylonian_captivity

“Leading From the Table” based on Matthew 26:17-30. World Communion Sunday October 4, 2015 Keswick-Raavenshoe Pastoral Charge

On the first of the Days of Unleavened Bread, the disciples came to Jesus and said, “Where do you want us to prepare your Passover meal?” He said, “Go into the city. Go to a certain man I will name for you, and say, ‘The Teacher says, My time is near. I and my disciples plan to celebrate the Passover meal at your house.’” The disciples followed Jesus’ instructions to the letter, and prepared the Passover meal. After sunset, he and the Twelve were sitting around the table. During the meal, he said, “I have something hard but important to say to you: One of you is going to hand me over to the conspirators.”

They were stunned, and then began to ask, one after another, “It isn’t me, is it, Master?” Jesus answered, “The one who hands me over is someone I eat with daily, one who passes me food at the table. In one sense the Son of Man is entering into a way of treachery well-marked by the Scriptures—no surprises here. In another sense that man who turns him in, turns traitor to the Son of Man—better never to have been born than do this!”  Then Judas, already turned traitor, said, “It isn’t me, is it, Rabbi?”Jesus said, “Don’t play games with me, Judas.”

During the meal, Jesus took the bread, blessed God and blessed the bread, broke it, and gave it to his disciples, saying:

“Take this and eat it. This is my body”. Taking the cup and offering blessings to God, he gave it to them, saying: “Drink this, all of you. This is God’s new covenant poured out for many people, for the forgiveness of sins.”

“I’ll not be drinking wine from this cup again until that new day when I’ll drink with you in the kingdom of my Father.”  They finished the meal, sang a hymn and went directly to Mount Olives.

*****************************************************************************

We now live in a world in which we can produce a drink which contains every nutritional need the human body has. The drink promises to end the annoyance of cooking and cleaning dishes as well as the complicated decisions we have to make at every meal. All the decisions about what to eat would be gone, everything we need provided.

Now, maybe this would work in refugee camps, or perhaps in the case of natural disasters. But I have to say I can’t see that working on a regular basis. We eat to live and thrive not just to survive. We eat for pleasure, for the community created when people sit at table together. We are stronger as a community when we can sit down after church to a cup of coffee and cookies, or even a meal together. For all of us, around the table with coffee is where relationships are formed and strengthened. We eat because breaking bread and pouring wine turns an ordinary table into a place where everyone is welcome.

So we read of Jesus and the disciples, sitting at a common table – probably sitting on low cushions on the floor. At the beginning of the meal, the Passover, God is blessed and then the traditional bread and wine are blessed. The Passover meal celebrated Israel’s freedom from slavery and from the bondage in Egypt, and liberation into a new life.

Yet there is a dark side in this meal. One of you, Jesus says, will be my betrayer. The Gospel writers struggle to understand why and how Judas did such a thing. Moreover, why would Jesus even welcome Judas into the company of disciples in the first place? Yet even though we are told Jesus knows Judas will hand him over, Judas is not excluded from the table.  He shares in the breaking of bread, and the cup of the new covenant.

In the very first Harry Potter movie, the Philosopher’s Stone, there’s a wonderful scene where Harry meets Draco Malfoy – from the French ‘mal foi’ meaning ‘bad faith’, or ‘untrustworthy’. We all know (and so does Professor Dumbledore, and Harry figures it out right away) that Draco is the kind of Judas in this story. He, like Judas, is not completely bad. In the first dinner scene, everyone sits down to eat together, everyone is included, and Professor Dumbledore starts the meal with the words “Let the feast begin!”  No one is excluded from the table, regardless of who they are or what they might or might not do.

Today’s reading ends at verse 30, but if we go ahead to the very next verse, Jesus turns to all his followers and says they will “all become deserters because of me this night.” Peter denies it strenuously, but we know Peter, and we know Jesus had correctly read his character. Jesus’ right to death stands over against the faithlessness of Judas, and also all the disciples. Perhaps it is a reminder to us when we gather to remember and celebrate this meal with all our sisters and brothers, here at this table, but at all other tables too. 

This is the last time that Jesus breaks bread and drinks wine with his disciples before his death, but he also makes a promise.

“I tell you, I will not drink this wine again until the day when I drink it new with you in God’s realm.” This serves as the last meal of a condemned man, and the first meal of a man who has faith and trust in what comes beyond. Jesus leads, from the table. So, for us the table becomes central to our faith. For me it’s the table which defines our leadership, who we are as people, how we live in community. This is the table where we are nourished and made whole, where our relationships with God, with each other, form the core of our leadership everywhere else.

Jesus knew that the disciples, each of them, was somehow broken people. We are broken people, but in the breaking of bread Jesus reaches out, and holds us, and in those actions we are blessed, even in our broken-ness.

On this World Communion Sunday, as we participate in the meal at this table, we know that not only we are broken, but the world is broken and in need of blessing. Even in our best efforts at loving relationship, we fall short – we struggle to love, we lose sight of our promises, we fail to be partners who are kind, patient, and faithful.

God’s heart breaks to see how we are broken and how we break others. So we are welcome at God’s table, because this is where the broken can be accepted. This is where Jesus takes what is broken – our world, our relationships, our lives, our promises, and our covenants, and offers blessing. But that isn’t the end. As we have come to God’s table, we are then called to take the table with us when we go – for every table is God’s table.

Our Former Moderator, Very Rev. Peter Short, talked about communion in the church today, and how we need to discern the difference between the ‘traditions’ of the church, and the ‘conventions’ of the church. The tradition is communion. Period. Table, bread and cup. The conventions of the church are how we do our communion services. He asked this question – in a rapidly changing world with more and more people leave or are outside the church, how do reframe the message of the table so that it is accessible to everyone? Are we so stuck in the ‘how’ we do communion, that we forget the centrality of those three things, - table, loaf and cup?

At the table in Hogwarts, everyone was included – no one was left out ; at Jesus’ table, everyone was included, no one left out. Saints and sinners gather together, none more important than any other; in this breaking, blessing and giving we are renewed and restored. Then we are called out, away from the table, back into the world, to other tables where God is present. This is our calling, as followers of Jesus – to lead from the table, to take the life we receive here, and carry it with us. Our actions here define who we are, not just here, but everywhere. May it be so.

Sources:

1.      Working Preacher – commentary by Eric Barreto, Associate Professor of New Testament,  Luther Seminary , Saint Paul, Minn. 
2.      “Broken”, a sermon by Rev. Christina Berry based on Mark 10:2-16. October 4, 2015, World Communion Sunday, First Presbyterian Church, Sterling, IL