Central United Methodist
Church
"A reconciling congregation of compassionate, committed Christians"
3700 Pacific Avenue
Stockton, CA 95204
(209) 466-5046
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"A reconciling congregation of compassionate, committed Christians"
3700 Pacific Avenue Stockton, CA 95204 (209) 466-5046 |
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Build
That A
Sermon by David Bennett Genesis
6:11-22;
As memory serves me (and I’m not sure it does as well as it once
did) life became a real challenge following the Annual Conference Session of
1983. The Many
of the Sutter Creek members were not very happy with me.
A furor followed very quickly. I
was in a very small minority and the majority was vocal, accusatory, and
some were down-right mean. Some
of the accusations and name calling were hard. It
was not to be a very pleasant year. During
the year there were times when I felt abandoned by God; left to fend for
myself even though I had supported the inclusive church I felt God wanted;
there were many nights of struggle and question.
Where was God when I had followed, what I thought was, the leading of
God’s spirit? This was, for
me, a time when God seemed distant. In
the imaginings of your mind, I invite you to conjure up a time when life was
difficult, when life seemed way more of a challenge than a blessing, when
God seemed absent or but a distant memory.
This may be long ago, it may be recent, it may be this moment.
Go only as deep as your spirit allows. In
your imaginings and in my conjuring up my long ago experience, even in the
pain, or the confusion, or the anxiety of these memories – as people of
faith we also might have been able to remember that – no matter the pain,
or the confusion, or the anxiety – there was an earlier time when God got
us through and we just might be able to believe that God will get us through
this time. In
somewhat the same way – although it is a whole nation and not as
individuals – this is how it was for the Hebrews in our reading this
morning. The
Israelites are living in Babylonian exile.
Life is hard. God seems
far away. “Why has God
abandoned God’s people?” the Hebrews might shout into the night. When
they gather in the evening to sip some tea or kosher wine, they tell
stories. One of the stories
they tell is the one about the Great Flood.
There
are many stories of great floods. The
Babylonians had their Epic of Gilgamesh.
Greek mythology tells of three floods.
The Aztecs and others native to the But,
this morning we hear a part of the Flood Story that is the Hebrew (and our)
story which began to take form during the Babylonian exile, approximately
from 586 to 536 BCE, as the Israelites began to put in writing what had to
this point been only an oral history. The
God of the Israelites is different that the gods of There
is that little part of the story where God floods the earth – drowning all
the sinners. In an ancient
world view where gods (with a little “g”) were considered responsible
for the future, destruction provided a way to clear away the past and allow
for a new beginning (Seasons of the Spirit).
So this massive, life-taking flood would have not seemed out of the
ordinary for the Israelites. God
does save – along with all living creatures – those God deemed righteous
(even if it is only one family). God
gives God’s creation another chance.
It is this grace the exiles in Centuries
later, we who follow Jesus, have our stories of God’s grace.
One story of grace is found in our gathering around the Lord’s
Table. It is at this
table that we remember the acts of God that time and again have offered us
forgiveness and the chance to start anew. This
sacred meal was given new meaning when Jesus celebrated the Passover with
his disciples on what we call Maundy Thursday or Holy Thursday.
The Passover celebrates God’s passing over the Israelites when the
Egyptian’s first born were killed just before the exodus from In
much the same way that Passover reminds Jews of God’s saving humanity
through the Exodus, this sacred meal reminds Christians of God’s work in
the saving of humanity through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus
Christ. We
most commonly know the celebration of this sacred meal by three names –
The Lord’s Supper, Holy Communion, the Eucharist (“thanksgiving” in
Greek). I
most often refer to our gathering around the table as Holy Communion,
although Eucharist (the giving of thanks) also feels comfortable. Referring
to the meal as the Lord’s Supper carries with it (for me) the theology of
sacrifice and bloodshed; a theology with which I am no longer comfortable. It
is in the celebration of Holy Communion, in the sacred mystery of this meal,
that we are in communion with, surrounded by, those who have gone before us
– those who have shaped us, guided us, offered us another chance.
It is the celebration of Holy Communion, in the sacred mystery of
this meal, that those who are a part of our lives today whom we know and
love, who guide, nurture, offer us another chance join us in person or in
spirit at the table.
For United Methodists this meal is at center of our worship.
John Wesley said Methodists should celebrate at the Lord’s Table
every time they gathered. Some
United Methodist Churches now celebrate Holy Communion each Sunday. By
whatever name, our coming to the table is a reminder of God’s working in
our lives and in our world offering forgiveness, new life, the chance to
begin anew once again. Coming
to the table is also a reminder of those who surround us in love and prayer,
those who are in communion with us on our journey. The
Prayer Shawl Ministry, facilitated by Sandy Jennings, is one way we share
our love and are “in communion” within our community and beyond.
Each Prayer Shawl is prayed over and blessed and offered to one whose
life journey needs special care, love, support and prayer.
As a ministry of Central Church it is a reminder of the communion we
share at the Lord’s Table and beyond. Another
ministry in which we share our love and are “in communion” with people
is the Communion Ministry being offered by Meg Estrada and Donna Waller.
They take communion to some of our homebound members who cannot
gather with us around the table. So
in homes through our parish grace, new life, God’s love is offered in our
name and in Jesus’ name. Just
as God established God’s covenant with Noah and in compassion and grace
offered all creation another chance to live in God’s presence, we are
offered that chance when we share in the bread and the cup.
The bread is new life, life made whole in Jesus Christ.
The cup is the cup of promise as we enter into a new covenant with
Christ. Each time we celebrate
this sacred meal, we are offered new life and the chance to begin anew once
again. The
image we imagined just a few moments ago, reminded us of a time of pain and
struggle; and that God has, time and again, been present in the pain and
struggle of our lives, and that God is present in our lives today and will
be in the days to come, no matter where our journey may take us.
We
remember our stories. Stories
we tell over and over. Stories
such as our gathering at the Lord’s Table where we re-discover Jesus
Christ and are re-united with our community.
Let the stories renew our faith and strengthen us for our journey.
Highway
Heartburn. Dinnertime Insights A
Sermon by David Bennett Luke
24:13-35
Luke is a wonderful story teller and packs a lot into this morning’s
familiar story. It’s a challenge to not comment on everything.
I promise I’m not going to down that road.
But, let’s do spend a moment on the
Luke’s story invites us to be very imaginative.
Chapter 24 begins with the Easter morning discovery of the empty tomb
and Peter’s return to his home amazed at what he had seen.
We then read that it was the same day that two disciples were returning
to their home in Emmaus.
We don’t know why they had been in
We aren’t even sure where home was, even though we are told they are
on the road to Emmaus. Emmaus, as
recorded in early Church history could have been more than one place or no
place at all.
Remember that part about it being the same day?
Luke invites us to believe that these two were walking home to Emmaus
(about 7 miles from
We join the two walking down the road, their hearts heavy with the
grief of the cross, with the joy of the empty tomb, with the confusion of what
has happened or not happened.
A stranger walking in the same direction joins them.
He wonders about their sadness. Our
traveling companions tell their story. Then
the stranger tells his story, interpreting the scriptures – from the law to
the prophets – about the Messiah.
In these few brief verses, we hear the short version of Luke’s
gospel.
His teaching completed, the stranger walks ahead as if to go further
down the road. Luke is clear
Jesus will not force himself on these two.
They must invite him in, if this is their desire.
Faith is always a spontaneous, voluntary response to God’s love and
grace. Jesus may walk beside us,
but we need to invite him into our lives. The
two disciples do invite Jesus in and what happens next is also important for
Luke. Tables
and meals are at the heart of Luke’s theology.
Jesus has gathered at the home of Mary and Martha, has been the guest
of Simon (a Pharisee), has hosted and been the guest at banquets, has eaten
with sinners and rich folks. Around
Jesus’ table all are welcome. No
one is excluded from the table of forgiveness, grace, love, life.
No one – especially those we often consider unworthy or outsiders.
If we have walked down the road with these two disciples and, like the
stranger, been invited in for dinner, and have accepted – Luke offers us
some more dinnertime insights as we sit at the table.
Not only is everyone welcome at the table, it is in the sharing of the
bread as we gather around the table that we remember our burning hearts on the
road home. It is in the sharing
of the bread that our eyes are opened to the guest who has become host.
Listen carefully to what is said as Jesus shares the bread.
Jesus takes the bread, blesses the bread, breaks the bread, gives
the bread. At this table of three
Jesus does the same as he did when 5,000 were fed – he takes, he blesses, he
breaks, he gives – the bread of life. He
gives himself.
Jesus is bread of life – also taken, blessed, broken, given.
He is taken into the presence of God, his life and ministry blessed,
his body broken for all, he is given, through his spirit, to be the one who
journeys with us on our Emmaus roads, on our roads back to the familiar, back
to the known in the midst of the confusion of life.
Jesus is the bread of life. He
makes sacred all those ordinary, every day moments when we gather in community
and receive him – taken, blessed, broken, given – for the brokenness in
our lives and for the brokenness of the world.
It is these sacred moments we celebrate.
Those moments when God’s grace reminds us that we are forgiven and
can start over, one more time. Those
moments when God’s spirit is so present we can almost touch it.
Those moments when God’s love is made real in the
laughter, or tears, of family and friends.
We celebrate the sacred because the mundane will return soon enough.
If we live in the spirit of Christ, we like him, are taken, blessed,
broken, given. If we choose, we
are taken into God’s presence; blessed into God’s service; our pride, our
egos, our self righteousness, our arrogance broken (at least some of the
time); and we are given to the world as followers of the one who is life at
its fullest; given to the world as seekers of life and hope; given to the
world as workers for peace and justice; given to the world as inviters of
others to the table of grace and forgiveness; given the faith and courage (as
were Jesus dinner companions) to run through the dangers of our nighttime (and
daytime) journeys to proclaim the joys of our highway heartburns and
dinnertime insights.
Most of the time we can celebrate the joy we discover in our highway
heartburns and dinnertime insights. But
what of those days when the joy of the sacred seems but a distant memory?
What of those mundane moments when our hearts are heavy with grief, or
our minds are exhausted by our keeping on when we don’t feel like keeping
on, or our spirits are weighed down with worries about self or family?
We are invited from the mundane to sacred when we are invited to the
Lord’s Table. Here we gather in
community to share in the sacred meal hosted by the one who is the bread of
life.
Here we are nourished to return to the mundane of our “Emmauses” in
faith and courage and hope – no matter what life offers.
Here we are taken, blessed, broken, given to be Jesus’ word of love
and life in a world of hate and death.
My friends, Jesus invites us to the table.
Wheat and grape of the earth become sacred foods in the symbolic
presence of Christ – taken, blessed, broken, given.
In the sacredness of this Holy meal, we are reminded how our hearts
burn when he walks with us. In
the sacredness of this meal we are reminded how our eyes are opened when we
gather at table of the Lord.
Let it be so.
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