10.6.24 "World Communion Sunday" - Westminster Presbyterian Church, Pasadena, CA

Psalm 26; 1 Corinthians 11.23-27

I was born in Sheboygan, Wisconsin … a town of 50,000 souls on the shores of Lake Michigan … known for its cheese and sausage … and the Kohler Company … with its notable bathroom fixtures.

I recall lying in bed at night, listening to the mournful moan of the fog horn … the light house on the pier, with its sweeping beam of light, warning ships on their way to other ports, or headed into harbor.

All along the shore line, jetties were built … sizable piers, concrete structures, like tines on a fork, reaching into the water to break the waves, to protect the shoreline …

North Point Jetties

I remember my brother fishing from these jetties, coming home with Lake Michigan Perch … on summer days, folks would be on the jetties, to sun and frolic, picnic and play.

I remember those jetties when they were new … construction first began in 1937 … now, they’re beaten up a bit by the passage of time and the relentless work of waves … but still, doing their work … bear the brunt of the storms, protect the shoreline.

The LORD’s Table is a spiritual jetty … built by God, to break the waves of life that threaten to undo us …

Psalm 62.6, God is my rock and my salvation …

To protect the shoreline of our soul, that we be not overwhelmed, when winds and waves threaten to undo us … 

One of the most important things we can do is to acknowledge the storms of life … when our spirit is hammered by adversity … when we’re weary to the bone … when hope is only a distant memory …  

Americans, with our can-do attitude, have difficulty with this part of life … “put on a happy face,” … “walk on the sunny side of the street” … “follow the Yellow Brick Road” … and it’s all good, but the story of life has other chapters, and stories to tell … elements, bit and pieces … ragged and torn, dark and deadly … 

The LORD’s Table is an invitation to face, squarely and honestly, what we’re up against!

Why would the City of Sheboygan build all of those jetties if there were no storms?

Why the Cross, if there be no sin?

Why the Light of Christ, if there be no darkness?

Why the Love of God, if there be no hate?

The Cross, the Light, the Love of God - these things help us face the realities of pain and sorrow … failed dreams, lost opportunities, reversals of health, financial distress … betrayal by friends, and self-betrayal … the inner demons that plague all of us, the shadows of fear and loneliness.

And the giant horrors of life … things way beyond our control  … families and nations devastated by war … homes lost in flood and fire … the untimely death of loved ones.

The LORD’s Table is a jetty built by God to absorb the storms when they come … the LORD is my shepherd, I shall not want … yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil … thou preparest a table before me, in the presence of mine enemies …  

Today, World Communion Sunday … let’s do some Presbyterian homework …

World Communion Sunday made its debut in 1933, through the vision and work of the Rev. Hugh Thompson Kerr, Shadyside Presbyterian Church, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. 

Dr. Kerr conceived of the idea when he served as Moderator of the General Assembly, the national meeting, of the Presbyterian Church, 1930.

Presbyterian Churches took up the idea, and then other denominations, as well … in 1940, the Federal Council of Churches adopted it, and promoted it throughout the Christian world … the first Sunday of October, World Communion Sunday … 

On this day, millions of Christians stand by the Table of our LORD … we remember the night he was betrayed … 

when a great storm arose, 

the winds of hell, and the waves of hate … 

a storm to destroy hope and peace, 

a storm to breach the defenses of the strongest, 

to overcome and wash away all that’s good, decent, and bright.

Crucify him, the crowds cried, the officials agreed, the powers that be wanted none of his nonsense … orders were given, the cross was ready … ready for the Son of Man to die, the Lamb of God who takes upon himself the sins of the world.

That night in Jerusalem, all is dark and doomed, Jesus takes bread and a cup - ancient symbols of deliverance and hope … reminders of the ancient feast of Passover.

The blood of the lamp daubed on the doorframes of homes in the land of slavery … the Spirit of Death draws near, and sees the blood of the lamb, and passes over that home.

And in the wilderness, on their way to the Promised Land, manna in the morning …

Jesus takes bread and breaks it … he takes the cup and blesses it … this is my body, this is my blood … I take the sins of the world to the cross … I take into my flesh every hurt and injury imaginable … I take into my soul the deepest sorrows … I bear the brunt of the storm … 

Jesus does for us what we cannot do for ourselves, so we can do for God and the world what we ourselves must do … what we have to do  …

love the world unto life, 

be the voice reason in unreasonable times … 

point to the truth when others embrace the lies … 

define power in terms of giving rather than taking …

keep our eyes on God so we see to the end of time … 

We gather at the Table, in the Company of the Saints … if we listen carefully, we hear them sing … we hear their words of encouragement:

You can do it.

We did it, and you will, too.

We did it as best we could.

And sometimes we failed … 

But God is good enough to make up for it.

God is kind enough to forgive.

God builds upon what we do and makes it all the more better.

 

We did it.

And you are doing it, too - just fine.

The saints go marching in … they lay down their burdens and join the chorus of the victors … they pray for us - all the time … 

Here we are, doing what so many have done before us … what so many will do after we’re gone, what people of faith are doing right now all around the world … this is my body, this is my blood … all that I am, for all that you are.

It’s World Communion Sunday, thanks to the Rev. Hugh Thompson Kerr and Shadyside Presbyterian Church … and thanks be to Jesus, who hosts the Table … the Table of faith, hope, and love …

A jetty - to protect the shoreline of our soul.

To God be the glory.

Hallelujah and Amen!

A Tale of Two Robes - Nov 4, 2007

1 Samuel 16:1-13; Mark 12:38-40
Acts 17:21-22


I no longer wear a robe.

It’s more than a sartorial decision – more than simply going to the closet, wondering what to wear.
My story, three chapters:
Unrobed, robed, disrobed.

Chapter One: Unrobed:
I’ve tried to recall what my childhood pastors wore, and I can’t recall any images.
They were good preachers, good pastors, but what they wore, not a clue, though I seem to recall suit and tie more than anything.
When I graduated from seminary – went to West Virginia – wore a suit and tie most of the time, I guess, but no clear recollections!
Went to Altoona, PA, a tough, inner-city sort of place; learned that a clerical collar made hospital calling easier.
I wore the collar during the week, but stayed with suit and tie for Sundays – then began to wear the clerical collar for worship, but stayed with a suit or a sport coat.

Then as an associate at Fox Chapel Presbyterian Church in Pittsburgh – large congregation, 6 full-time pastors, several part-time – there, the clergy wore robes.
I didn’t own a robe, so I borrowed one from the clergy closet.

From Fox Chapel to Northern Wisconsin – suit and clerical collar.
Trip to Duluth one day, a religious supply house.
Bought an alb (albino, white), with four beautiful hand-made stoles from Montreal, rope cincture for the waist.

Chapter 2: Robed: I wore the alb for ten years.
In 1986, I earned a doctorate; two of my faculty advisors from Western Theological Seminary flew done to Tulsa to conduct Sunday morning graduation ceremonies at the church.
It was grand day, a festive day, and well do I remember it – a fellow-student from Kansas City was there – Christian musician Ken Medema provided incredible music.
The church gave me this ring – something Donna remembered from an earlier visit to a James Avery Jewelry story in Tulsa.
At the store one evening in a mall, I spotted the ring in a display cabinet.
I said, “If ever I were to wear a ring, this would be it.”
When the church asked Donna what to give me, she remembered, and they gave me this ring to me that Sunday.
Then Donna and the children gave me my robe, a Genevan gown, with chevrons on the sleeves, representing the doctorate.
Then, a dramatic moment in the graduation ceremony, the hooding – my chief faculty advisor, the Rev. Dr. Robert Coughenour, put it over my head – gold and blue, the school colors, dominated by the broad swath of red, the color of the degree, the color of theology.
I can’t put into words what it meant to me then, and still means. It’s a precious gift given to me by my family.

I wore the robe for many years, with clerical collar, and many times the hood.
It made the Sunday morning closet easy – and I was comfortable in it.

But times change …

Chapter 3: Disrobed:
About eight years ago, I disrobed!

Behind my decision, prayer & thought.
What are the times in which we live?
What’s the 21st century calling us to be?
What does it mean to be the “salt of the earth” and “the light of the world”?

If clergy garb served a function, what was it really?
Is it consistent with the New Testament witness? With Jesus our Rabbi? With the early church?

One of the Scripture passages that means much to me in all of this, Mark 12:38-40 …

I’ll read it again:

As he taught, he said, “Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes, and to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces, and to have the best seats in the synagogues and places of honor at banquets! They devour widows’ houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers. They will receive the greater condemnation.

Jesus accepted the title Rabbi easily, but at the same time Jesus warned us:

But you are not to be called rabbi, for you have one teacher, and you are all students. And call no one your father on earth, for you have one Father—the one in heaven. Nor are you to be called instructors, for you have one instructor, the Messiah. The greatest among you will be your servant. All who exalt themselves will be humbled, and all who humble themselves will be exalted. (Matthew 23:8-12).

Eight years ago, I put my robe away with tenderness … I spoke about it with Donna and the children, because they gave it to me, and they all agreed.
Times change!
“Put it away Dad; it’s a new day for the church!”


Ever since Constantine made Christianity the religion of the realm, the church has struggled with SACERDOTALISM.

“Sacred power” reserved for the few – baptism, communion - the forgiveness of sins.
Only a few folks can do these things. SACERDOTALISM.

The middle ages – YOU were NOT the church – I was the church.
Me and my clergy buddies, we were the church – priest, bishop, arch bishop, cardinal and pope, along with monks and sisters – we were the church, not you.

You were customers of the grace we created every time we did the Mass.

You didn’t need to be there – no one needed to be there, except the priest, and when the words were said, and the bells rung, a little more grace for the world.

The clergy presided over seven sacraments, to cover all your sins.
The clergy held all the cards: we could get you to heaven, or send you to hell.

Sacerdotalism.

Let’s think for a moment about the early church.

Everything was done in the home … when Paul wrote to the church in Rome, he was writing to 30 or 40 house churches.
There was no “church” as we know it for 300 years … there were only home-gatherings, or gatherings by a river … informal and powerful; home-based and world-changing. “Not by might nor by power, but by the Spirit of the LORD” (Zechariah 4:6)

For a thousand years, the accretions of power grew upon the church, like lichen on a tree, or moss on a stone … vestments grew heavy with brocade, jewels and precious metals … cathedrals tall and overpowering … property and power … sacerdotalism.

The Protestant Reformation formulated a new teaching that shook the church to its foundation … not really a new teaching; a teaching from the New Testament … bringing the church back to its foundation; restoring the church to its first love; plain and simple.

Anyone hazard a guess?

The Priesthood of all believers!

The church liberated from sacerdotalism.

In our own tradition, the Disciples of Christ formed in the early 1800s in a desire to recover the New Testament model – the priesthood of all believers.
To this day, in the Disciples of Christ, the Christian Church and the Churches of Christ, all off-shoots of the Presbyterian family, the distinction between clergy and laity is far less than in most churches.
The clergy are primarily equippers of the people – as Paul the Apostle wrote: “equipping the saints for the work of ministry” (Ephesians 4:12).

If such were the case today, what might the church look like?

Baptism would be done in the home.
By parents and grandparents, friends and family - a cup of water in the living room - gathered at the beach, by a pool.
I believe any Christian family, gathered together with other Christians, can celebrate baptism – a simple, John-the-Baptist moment … or Paul in the home of Cornelius.

What about the LORD's Supper?

Didn’t Jesus say, “Whenever you eat?”

At home, in a restaurant … with friends, or by yourself – a peace of bread, a cup of anything – it’s the body, it’s the blood – the presence of Christ with His people.

Whenever a group gathers in Jesus’ name, He’s there … and anyone can take a piece of bread, anyone can lift a cup; any believer, any Christian, anywhere.

Every family meal – someone can say: Christ is with us – this is His body, this is His blood. Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace to all.

We can learn from contemporary Judaism: a religion of the home.

The essential rites of Jewish life are done in the home:

The bris – circumcision – done at home.
Passover – at the dinner table, presided over by the parents, and children fully participating. A family affair.

The synagogue is a gathering place for instruction … the rabbi teaches there … the community is strengthened by its gathering – children go to school there - but the essential stuff of being a Jew is done in the home, with friends and family.

We are all one in Christ … there is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female … and I would add, neither clergy nor laity.

There are distinctions, distinctions of gifts … some are apostles, some are disciples, some evangelists, some are teachers; some are artisans; some are musicians … some have the gift of hospitality, some the gift of mercy … some are prayer warriors.
Many gifts, one spirit; many gifts, one calling; many gifts, one purpose … many gifts, one people.

We’re all equally close to God … every prayer said is worthy in the sight of God and welcomed at heaven’s gate … every person has a gift, maybe two or three at the most … everyone is equally important in the kingdom of God.

The state church of Norway recently severed its ties to the state, ending centuries of state oversight.
Bishop of Oslo notes, “It belongs to another time than ours.”

There was a time when I thought orange shag carpet was cool … and a purple shirt, with a purple paisley tie ten feet wide … and that ’56 buick of mine could lay a patch of rubber 20 feet long and hit a 120.

But they all belong to another time …

When Donna and I travel by air, as soon as the plane leaves the ground, I set my watch to the new time zone.
Donna keeps her watch on our time zone – which makes for some interesting moments for her.
What time zone are we in?

The energy of change is none other than God!
God always seeks a new place – a new strategy, a new way of communicating His love to the world. God loves change; God is ever creative and creating … making all things new … a new heaven and a new earth …

So I put my robe away … I’ve changed my mind over the years … and I’ll change my mind again before I go home to Jesus.

Amen!