Communion

Maundy Thursday 4/17/14
Exodus 12:1-14; 1 Corinthians 11:23-26; John 13:1-17, 31b-35

O Lord, I will tell of your name to my brothers and sisters; in the midst of the congregation I will praise you. Amen.

Several years ago some of my friends brought their roommate to church. It was the first time that person had ever been to a Christian worship service. He seemed to be fascinated by it, and paid close attention to everything that we did.

And when it came time for Communion, he chose to stay in his seat. He didn’t really understand what was going on with this ritual when his roommates and all the other worshippers stood up and walked forward to receive a small piece of bread and sip of wine… but he could tell that it was something holy.

And as an outsider – a first-timer – someone who wasn’t sure whether or not he was going to stay – he figured he shouldn’t violate our sacred moment without being able to give it the full honor it deserved.

This person’s experience in worship spoke two things to me.

First, he had a great deal of respect for religion and its teachings and practices. In this, he was not unique – many young adults are respectful of and curious about what religion has to offer, even if they have never participated in worship before.

The second thing this experience taught me is that this young person was able to figure out from the way in which the congregation treated Communion that it was a holy meal that deserved to be treated with respect. Even if he didn’t understand it’s meaning, he understood its importance. That understanding was due to the reverence of the other worshippers.

Tonight, we are at an advantage over this acquaintance of mine. We don’t just have to sit back and wonder at what’s going on. We are blessed to have the chance to learn and to fully experience what Communion, our weekly worship practice, one of our two sacraments, really means.

Tonight we heard the story of Jesus’ last meal with his disciples, and we heard the Bible verses that get repeated every time we celebrate Communion. So let’s remind ourselves of why we share this meal together as part of our worship.

The Eucharist and the Lord’s Supper are other names for this ritual that we consider to be sacred – a sacrament. In order for something to be a sacrament, according to Lutheran theology, it needs to meet three requirements. It must be commanded by God, it must be accompanied by an earthly sign, and it must carry a promise of God’s grace and forgiveness.

The practice of Communion was commanded by Jesus when he shared his last meal with his disciples, and told them “do this” as often as you gather, in remembrance of me.

The earthly element of Communion, of course, is the bread and the wine.

And the promise of forgiveness comes with the belief that Communion is really the body and blood of Jesus, which were sacrificed on our behalf to save us from our own sinfulness.

That’s a lot to try to digest during your first experience ever of Christian worship.

And we don’t necessarily do a good job always explaining what Communion is or why we practice it.

But hopefully, we treat the sacrament with reverence, like that congregation did in my story. Hopefully a visitor to our worship service would recognize that the small meal we share together is the highest, most holy moment of our gathering.

When he celebrated his final meal with the disciples, Jesus wasn’t just throwing a dinner party. He was giving a new meaning to an old tradition.

The phrase “we’ve always done it this way!” would carry no weight with Jesus. He was all about doing things in new ways, and with new meanings.

On this particular occasion, Jesus was celebrating the Passover with his disciples.

We learn about the Jewish holiday of Passover in tonight’s first reading, from the book of Exodus.

On Passover, the people of Israel remember the night when the angel of death passed over their homes. Because they had followed God’s instructions, God spared the people the death of their firstborn. Any household that failed to follow God’s command had to suffer losing their eldest child.

This plague, the death of the firstborn, was what finally convinced Pharaoh to free the Israelites from slavery in Egypt several thousand years ago. Jewish people still celebrate this holiday, remembering how God helped to bring them freedom.

Actually, today is the third day in this year’s Passover celebration – it’s such an important holiday that Jews observe it for a whole week.

Passover is celebrated as a festival to the Lord, as a day of remembrance, and a commemoration of freedom from slavery.

So Jesus and his disciples were sharing the Passover meal together. They were remembering when God freed their ancestors from slavery in Egypt. And then Jesus takes this old, sacred, symbolic meal and turns it into something else.

         God doesn’t just free us from slavery.

         God frees us from ourselves.

God frees us from our sins, from our mistakes, from our selfishness. God saves us from our human nature that keeps us from living life perfectly.

We know from the story in Exodus that God is all about granting freedom to people. And we learn more about that freedom in the reading from Corinthians and in the story from John. The freedom that God has to offer comes through the death of Jesus. The saving grace is that because Jesus died, we are free from death.

That’s the freedom we celebrate when we share in the meal of Communion.

Jesus took an old tradition and turned it into a new promise of God’s grace.

Just like God saved the people of Israel from slavery in Egypt, God continues to offer us freedom from sin and death, through the body and blood of Jesus.

Each time we celebrate Communion, we remember that promise of grace, of forgiveness, and of eternal life with God.

God is present with us, whenever we share this special meal, in memory of Jesus.

Whether we actually eat and drink the body and blood of Christ, or whether we sit back and observe the ritual, as my friends’ roommate did, we recognize that there is something holy happening.

God is here.

Forgiveness is here.

In the gathered community that follows the commandments of God using earthly elements, a sacrament occurs – a sacred moment appears.

We are that sacred community of God.

Living in God’s grace, old things are made new – God takes our old selves and makes us new. That’s the promise of Communion. That promise is why we celebrate this meal together.

In remembrance of Jesus, and in thanksgiving for his sacrifice on our behalf.

Amen. 

Funeral Sermon

Palm-Passion Sunday A 4/13/14
Matthew 26:14-27:66

O Lord, open my lips, that my mouth might declare your praise.

The worship committee laughed at me when they saw my notes about this worship service from last year. The team debriefs major services at our monthly meetings, and we make plans for how we cant to celebrate the same day next year. So, at last year’s debrief of Palm and Passion Sunday, I made a bunch of notes.

We liked starting the service with the palms – we want to remember that the crowds loved Jesus when he entered Jerusalem at the beginning of Holy Week.

And the worship team also wanted to do the whole Passion reading. We liked the idea of hearing the entire story of Jesus’ betrayal, trial, and crucifixion all at once. It gets the point across better, don’t you think? The story means a little bit more when you read it a chapter or two as a time. When we pull out segments of the Bible to read out of context, a few verses at a time, we sometimes miss the overarching story.

So the worship team really wanted to do the Passion reading as part of worship on this day. But they also wanted to have a sermon. We won’t have a sermon on Good Friday, we’ll let the story just speak for itself on that night. But for today, they thought, a little explanation is in order.

That’s when the worship committee laughed at my note in the worship order.

I had written next to “sermon” – keep it short!

A colleague of mine asked me this past week if I was preaching today, since he knew that we were doing the whole long Passion reading. I said yes, but it would be brief.

He asked if I would be doing a homily – and really, I don’t know what the difference is between a sermon and a homily. If you look them up in the dictionary, they mean the same thing. So I just responded that I was giving a short sermon… that my message would be funeral sermon length.

Well, that’s appropriate, isn’t it? What better day to give a funeral-length sermon than on a day when we are remembering Jesus’ death?

At funerals, people don’t want to hear elaborate biblical interpretation or thoughtful theological tomes or exemplary scholarly preaching… they just want to hear words of comfort.

So pastors don’t usually preach for 45 minutes at a funeral. We keep it short and sweet, we focus on the good memories we have of the person, and we focus on the hope that our faith gives us for forgiveness and eternal life.

When I’m preparing to preach a funeral sermon, I have a go-to formula.

At funerals, people need to hear three things.

1. Jesus loves you.

2. Jesus loves the person who died. 

3. We will all be together again someday.

In almost every scenario, that formula works perfectly.

Today, though, not so much.

We’ve got #1 – Jesus loves you. We’ve got #3 – we will all be together again someday.

But what does it mean to say that Jesus loves the person who died… when Jesus himself is the one who died?

Remembering Jesus’ death is tough.

Like the disciples, we just don’t quite know what to do with it. His death doesn’t fit with the rest of what we know about him.

Jesus is a teacher and a healer. We remember the story about him raising Lazarus from the dead, and we can’t make sense of his own death. We think about how much everyone celebrated Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem. How quickly things have changed!

Why did this wonderful man have to die? Why did he suffer an unjust execution?

Even if we believe that (#1) Jesus loves us, and that (#3) we’ll be reunited someday with our loved ones and with Jesus… how does his death demonstrate love?

That’s the counterintuitive mystery of the Christian message.

Remember how you felt 20 minutes ago? Remember the energy that started the service today?

And somehow, by reading just a few pages from the Bible, the mood has changed completely. We were upbeat, and now we’re subdued. We were cheerful, and now we’re somber.

The story of Jesus’ death makes us doubt #2 in my go-to list for funeral preaching.

Jesus loves the person who died.

That point doesn’t seem to apply today, because Jesus’ love wasn’t enough to stop the suffering and death.

Doesn’t that happen a lot in life? We know that Jesus loves our family and friends, but their illness still isn’t healed. Death happens even in the midst of Jesus’ love.

And it’s confusing.

It’s hard to understand, because we know that Jesus came to bring life, and yet here he is, suffering betrayal and torture and execution.

Our loved ones – and Jesus’ loved ones – suffer and die in spite of his love.

But God’s love remains, even in the midst of all that suffering.

Even on the cross, when Jesus cries out, “my God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” – even then, God has not forsaken us.

That’s what makes Jesus’ funeral sermon different from the one I would preach for any of you.

At your funeral, I would tell your loved ones that God’s love was present throughout your life, and is present in the promise of your resurrection from the dead. That’s the hope that all Christians have – because of God’s grace, we can look forward to eternal life with God and all our loved ones.

It’s different today.

In the Bible story we just heard, God’s love for us is shown in the fact that Jesus died. God allowed for his suffering in order to save us from the same fate. God’s love, in this case, is directed at all humanity. It comes at the expense of Jesus.

Too bad for Jesus, right?

That’s the thing, though.

Jesus’ death is different.

Jesus didn’t have to wait long for the promise of life eternal.

We know the end of the story. We know that on the third day, Jesus rose from the dead – he conquered death. And this is good news for us. It’s the best news for us! The power of God brought Jesus out from his grave, alive.

Death no longer has power over our lives. Because God loves us (#1), and because God loves Jesus who died (#2), we are all able to look forward to seeing Jesus and our loved ones again someday (#3).

Today’s story makes no sense based on what we know about Jesus. He didn’t deserve death. His betrayal and suffering seem opposed to everything we know about how God works in the world.

But then, when Jesus is raised from the dead, new meaning is given to everything we’ve heard about his suffering.

Sure, Jesus didn’t deserve death.

But we do.

We’ve sinned. We’ve made mistakes. We’ve denied the power of God in our lives.

But because of Christ’s death on our behalf, we don’t have to worry about punishment for our mistakes. The penalty has already been paid.

Jesus’ death is a difficult story to hear. But his resurrection is the best story that has ever been known to humankind.

And the resurrection could not have happened if Jesus hadn’t died.

The story of Jesus’ betrayal and trial and execution only make sense in light of the resurrection. That is when we get the good news of God’s forgiveness for each one of us, and that is when we learn that we don’t need to fear death any more.

         Come back next week for that story.

For today, we remember Jesus’ death.

And we give thanks.
Amen.

New Life

Lent 5A, 4/6/14
John 11:1-45

O Lord, open my lips, that my mouth might declare your praise.

Jesus said, “Take away the stone.”

Then he cried with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!”

The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth.

Jesus said to the crowd, “Unbind him, and let him go.”

This is what Christianity is all about, folks.

Jesus raises people from the dead.

This is where our faith begins.

The only reason that we do anything else as Christians – the only reason we gather for worship – the only reason churches even exist – is because Jesus has brought us new life, just like he did for Lazarus.

All those other things that we think are important – music, Bible study, committee meetings, outreach to people in need – none of those things matter at all. None of those things have any meaning    except when they are done in response to Jesus.

The only reason that Christianity matters at all is because it promises new life to all people.

Today’s Gospel story gives us the whole purpose of our faith in a nutshell. Jesus brings life. That’s why Jesus matters. That’s why we follow him.

I could end the sermon right here. Really, the point has been made. But my job as your pastor isn’t just to tell you what Christianity is all about.

My job is also to tell you why it matters.

Jesus brings life. Got it? Good.

But so what?

Christian faith has to do with how we respond to God’s gift of life. When Jesus gives us a second chance, what do we do with it?

I’ve been reading the book Proof of Heaven. Have any of you read it? Heard of it?

Proof of Heaven came out about a year and a half ago. It’s by Eben Alexander, a neurosurgeon who had a vivid near-death experience while in a serious coma. He miraculously made a full recovery from his illness, and now he’s spending the rest of his life telling as many people as possible all about the spiritual realm he experienced, which he now believes is the most important thing anyone can ever know.

I’m not going to go into the details of Dr. Alexander’s near-death experience because they don’t particularly matter for us today.

The reason that Dr. Alexander does matter for us as an example today is that he reordered his priorities when we came out of that coma. Given a second chance at life, Dr. Alexander is sharing the most important message he knows with as many people as possible. He’s spending all his energy on the deeper, meaningful, important things in life, and he’s talking to other people about it.

Dr. Alexander gives us an example of what to do one we’ve received the new life that Jesus has to offer.

Focus on things that are important – God, grace, love, forgiveness – and tell everyone you know about it.

That’s the Christian faith in a nutshell.

What do you think that Lazarus did after Jesus raised him from the dead?

Unbind him and let him go.

Jesus gave Lazarus the freedom to do anything he wanted in his new life.

Do you suppose that Lazarus went back to life as usual, without giving his death a second thought? I doubt it. This is pure speculation, of course, but I’d guess that Lazarus had a greater appreciation for the relationships in his life. He probably enjoyed his food and drink a little more, probably spent a little more time noticing sunrises and budding flowers and good music.

In fact, we can be pretty sure that Lazarus did tell other people about his experience, since it is recorded here for us in the Bible. Lazrus is named, unlike so may other characters in the Gospel of John, which means he was likely a leader in the early church. He shared the freedom he had found in the new life that Christ offered. 

So often we go through our lives as if the things that we want are the most important things in the universe.

We want the new car or the new job or the bigger TV, or we just want our own way. And we do everything possible to turn those wants into reality.

But really, God invites us to reverse that attitude.

When we live in full acknowledgement of our new life in Christ, we live knowing that the most important things in the universe are, in fact, the things that we want.

Grace is amazing. We want that. Forgiveness and relationships are amazing. We want those things. Love is the most important thing in life. And so we want it.

Several folks in this congregation have had a second chance at physical, earthly life.

I’ve heard some of your stories about surviving serious accidents or illnesses. You have some amazing experiences to share about the new life that you have been given.

What are you doing with your new life?

If you’ve had a close brush with death, have you been living differently since then?

I know that for most of you in that situation, the answer is yes.

That should be the answer for all of us.

Every single one of us has been given new life by Christ.

Even if that life didn’t come to us through a near-death experience or miraculous healing after an illness or accident – each of us had been condemned to death because of our sins. And each one of us is made alive because of Christ.

For us it doesn’t look like it did for Lazarus, but the effect is the same. Jesus saves us from death.

So how do we live?

When Jesus calls to us:

Robert, come out!              

Laura, come out!

Mary, come out!              

Steve, come out!                        

When Jesus calls for our bindings to be unwound, and grants us freedom and new life, forever, how do we respond?

New life in Christ breaks all the rules. We don’t actually know much about Lazarus after Jesus raised him from the dead. But we do know some things about Jesus when he was raised from the dead.

Once he is raised from the dead, Jesus can enter rooms that are locked. He can vanish into thin air when his disciples recognize him in the breaking of the bread. He can make a fruitless night of fishing turn into the biggest catch of the season.

Once Jesus is raised from the dead, stones in front of tombs don’t concern him anymore. They don’t matter.

Life matters.

The power of death has been taken away.

So it is with us.

We have already been given new life in Christ.

         We received that life in our baptism.

We receive it anew every time we share Communion, and every time we confess our sins and receive forgiveness.

We can experience Jesus’ gift of new life in our relationships with other people, or in the beauty of creation.

New life, grace that breaks the rules of sin and death – that’s what Jesus has to offer.

That’s the whole message of Christianity.

And our whole life of faith is responding to that gift. We want to share this gift with everyone we know! We can show God’s love to others in words and actions. We can reprioritize our lives. That’s what Christian faith is all about.

Amen.