Tod Bolsinger

The Word in Community

Today, at our church, a vigil will come to an end.  It is part of our "For Love of God and Neighbor Campaign".  It has been meant to be a week of spiritual discipline for anchoring our church's mission in the words of Scripture. It is the first time that we have done something like this, but I sense it won’t be the last. 

Last Sunday at the end of our last service of the morning, a elder in our church stood before the congregation and read aloud from Genesis 1:1-5, we then dismissed the service and a small group of junior high students and their young adult leaders sat in a circle and took up where the elder left off.  For the next five days, from early in the morning until late into the night, there has been someone reading, aloud, from the Chronological New Living Translation of the Bible as we as a church community work our way through the entire Bible.

Tonight, at 7 PM a group of leaders in our church will gather together to read the last chapter of Bible, Revelation 22.  We have asked four readers to lead us, with a child reading the penultimate verse and then in call and response fashion the leaders of our church will read the last verse together.

Five days, 1441 pages, 76 hours of reading and an amazing experience.

I was signed up to read with my wife early in the experience.  I assumed that I would only read once. My son, who had already read with the Junior Highers tagged along because he wanted to do it again. I listened as my wife read about Passover and the slaughter of the first born Egyptians because of Pharaoh’s stubbornness (with my own first born son listening on). Then I read the passage where because of Israel's own stubbornness (how quick we forget!) God had to punish them in the wilderness.

Throughout the day, I remembered that while I went about leading the church staff in meetings, preparing for events, meeting with people, there was someone reading the word of God aloud in our sanctuary.  It was like being in a musical, but the music was the voice of God through the voice of his people.  Tuesday afternoon, I snuck in the back of the sanctuary for a few minutes and listened as our church receptionist read all by herself, her friendly voice that greets people when they call the church, filling the sanctuary with the word of God.

Tuesday night after a Sanctuary Remodel Committee meeting,  I joined a group of young adults and a homeless women who were gathered reading about Solomon's building the temple. A long passage about so many details, it made me grateful for the committee that is paying attention to our sanctuary details, so that in the words of 1 Kings 8:60, "Then people all over the earth will know that the Lord is God and there is no other."

I left at 10:15, but the young adults carried on through the night, moving from the pithy wisdom of Proverbs through the blush-causing Song of Solomon and into the prophets.

On Wednesday morning my ten year old daughter Ali asked me to get her up early so that she could read before school.  We arrived at 6 AM where one of my colleagues was already in sanctuary.  From 4 AM - 6 AM he had walked alone circling the inside of sanctuary and reading the psalms of praise.  Then I listened as my daughter's sweet voice told of the sacrificial love of the Messiah from Isaiah.  She finished by reading Isaiah 59:21: "And this is my covenant with them," says the Lord. "My Spirit will not leave them and neither will these words that I have given you. They will be on your lips and on the lips of your children, and your children's children forever.  I, the Lord, have spoken."

This morning, I returned again.  At 4 AM I joined with a Marine dressed in his uniform who sat in the darkness under a huge picture of the Good Samaritan on our chancel with only the glow of the lights for reading illuminating the scene.  We read from the gospels (after so many hours we were finally in the New Testament!) taking turns for two hours until both daylight and the friendly face of a 70 year widow and elder in our church lit up the morning.  As we gave the scriptures to her, her Texas drawl added depth and warmth to the story.

I prepared to leave the vigil to her strong voice, so that I could see my kids off to school.  As I left the sanctuary I heard her reading the words of Jesus, “I have loved you even as the Father has loved me.  Remain in my love. When you obey my commandments, you remain in my love, just as I obey my Father’s commandments and remain in his love.”

I know that my Texan friend turned the Bible over to a retired lawyer who loves the Scriptures.  I smiled to think of his booming, confident voice taking up the task from her quiet confident drawl.  And throughout this day, more will read, more will listen.  A homeless woman has probably heard more of the Bible this past week than any of us.  A family brought their preschool aged boys just to listen and be part of something they really don’t understand.

We have needed the whole body of Christ to take on this task, we needed single adults who had the freedom to read late into the night, stay-at-home moms and retirees who could fill the working hours, children who could bring laughter as they giggled through trying to pronounce Hebrew names and working folk who would begin and end their days “in the world” with a time “in the Word” reminding us what all these writings are really about. 

Reading aloud the scriptures, listening to them they way they were read for centuries, in community, hearing the grand narrative of God’s redeeming love for the world, letting it soak into the life of our community as we seek to live out the “powerful play” that goes on. 

I feel sadness for those who missed out on this experience.  I feel some sadness about times I have missed out on what may have been equally powerful and meaningful because my life schedule didn't permit it.

But for those of us who have been part, and for our church as a whole, I can only imagine what this might do to us.

"When I discovered your words, I devoured them.  They are my joy and my heart's delight, for I bear your name, O Lord God."  (Jeremiah 15:16)

[Update: Sheryl France-Moran a reflection on the Scripture Vigil at her blog, too. ]

When Jesus Calls

This is the second part of my message from last Sunday on the "Spiritual Discipline of Suiting Up." It's a bit lengthy today as I thought I'd wrap up this section before the weekend.

Matthew 4:18-22
18 One day as Jesus was walking along the shore beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers—Simon, also called Peter, and Andrew—fishing with a net, for they were commercial fishermen. 19 Jesus called out to them, “Come, be my disciples, and I will show you how to fish for people!” 20 And they left their nets at once and went with him.
21 A little farther up the shore he saw two other brothers, James and John, sitting in a boat with their father, Zebedee, mending their nets. And he called them to come, too. 22 They immediately followed him, leaving the boat and their father behind.  (NLT)

In a church like ours, we have constant needs.  Needs for Sunday School teachers and greeters, worship leaders, small group leaders, Stephen ministers and the like.  But what we really want are people who feel called—at least for this season of time—to be part of a particular ministry that is bigger than they are.  We don’t just want lots people who are responding to the needs, we want people who are heeding the call of Jesus.  If we all heed the call, all the needs will be met. 

So how do we heed the call of Jesus?  How do we practice the spiritual discipline of suiting up, of standing ready to hear and heed Jesus’ call to join him in his ministry in this church and to a hurting world? 

First and foremost by recognizing what a call from Jesus sounds like.  So, let’s begin by looking again at the way Jesus called these disciples, these four who assumed, like you and I often assume, that they wouldn’t be called to do anything but sit on the sides and cheer on others.  And what we find will help us to “suit up”, to ready ourselves for something bigger than ourselves, to open ourselves to the call of Jesus in your life.  So, since Jesus called four disciples, let me offer you four points. 

• Jesus’ call interrupts you.

When we focus on meeting needs, we focus on what we can do, what we have time to do, if we have space to do it.  But the call of Jesus is different from what we expect.   

Many of us assume that Jesus’ call will come to us when we are completely at prayer, completely at rest, at a calm crossroad in our lives.  We think, “I know when I’ll receive a call to do something great for Jesus:  It will be when I retire, when the kids are grown, when the 401K is full, when the business can stand on its own.”  If we are young, we think, “After I get a good job and make a lot of money.  After I am married.  Or once I pay off these credit cards.”

My friends, I believe that we can be hear different calls in different seasons of life, but the call to follow Jesus, to dedicate yourself to Jesus, to participate in what he is doing in the world, usually comes as a complete interruption to whatever else we may have planned. 

Look at these four would be disciples.  The text reminds us that they are “commercial fishermen.”  They were not some brothers killing time on a vacation, but were hard at work making a living taking care of families.  And when Jesus calls Peter and Andrew it was “while they were fishing,” right in the middle of the day.

Can you imagine?  You are sitting on the phone with a client, and your assistant breaks in: “Excuse me but Jesus is on the line and he says I should interrupt you and tell you that you are to follow him.”

It seems crazy, but that is exactly what he did here.  And I can’t tell you how many people have told me over the years how the call of God in their lives to a particular, meaningful ministry completely rearranged their lives and plans. 

The first point we learn from this passage is that Jesus’ call interrupts you. And the second point is very much like the first:

• Jesus’ call inconveniences you.

Again, if we focus on meeting needs, we focus on those needs that are convenient for us or that we are able to squeeze into already busy lives.  But one of the most interesting points in this little story is the seeming throw away line: “he saw two other brothers, James and John, sitting in a boat with their father, Zebedee, mending their nets…” 

Being a fisherman is hard work, and it is unpredictable work. If the nets have holes, the fish aren’t going to be caught.  So this is a particularly busy time for these two men. It’s like being an accountant and the call of Jesus comes to you during tax season. 

Further, to be a fisherman in the first century was a lucrative job.  They made good money.  And when James and John are called by Jesus and they not only leave behind their business, they leave behind their father, Zebedee.  Even in the first century this was understood to be a most radical decision.  Sons are expected to stay in the family business at least until the father dies. 

Most scholars assume that Jesus himself didn’t start his ministry until he was thirty because he waited until Joseph passed away.  Instead, he stayed home working as a carpenter until his time came.  But when Jesus himself calls these particular men, he calls them from their father and his business.

The call of Jesus comes and inconveniences an entire family.  But it is a call from Jesus, so they go. 

So far we have learned that a call from Jesus interrupts you, a call from Jesus inconveniences you.  Now in all fairness, Jesus doesn’t always interrupt or inconvenience us, but it is important to remember that Jesus doesn’t just call us when we have nothing else to do, nor any other commitments.  This passage takes away two of our common objections.  But these last two points, I think occur in every call of Jesus.  So the third part:   

• Jesus’ call includes partners for you.

Notice how Jesus calls these men in pairs.  Notice how both brothers are called to follow him.  This is the normal way of operating in the kingdom, the call of Jesus is almost never to go it alone.  Just think of all the pairs and teams we find in the New Testament.  Jesus and the twelve; Peter, James and John, Barnabas and Paul, Paul and Silas, Paul and Timothy, Barnabas and Mark, Priscilla and Aquila, and on and on.

This reminds us that the call of Jesus is always a call to community.  When we follow Jesus, we follow together. 

Very often as a pastor, I’ll get an idea that I think may be call for me or for the church.  Instead of running off and doing it, I have learned to pray and ask God to reveal someone else who should be my partner in it.  If there is no partner, no sense of community, no shared responsibility and accountability, then I assume that there is not yet a call. 

All of our ministries, both in this church and in the world need called partners to lead them.  Jesus’ call interrupts you, inconveniences you, includes partners for you and lastly,

• Jesus’ call invites you to follow Jesus more closely.

Eugene Peterson wrote in a recent article in Christianity Today:
“One way to define the spiritual life is getting so tired and fed up with yourself you go on to something better, which is following Jesus.”   

In essence that is what the invitation of Jesus does, it takes our eyes off ourselves.  That is also why the need is not the call.  When I am focusing on meeting needs, I am focusing on what I can do, what I can accomplish, what I can achieve.  When I following Jesus, Jesus is then my focus. 

This is, dear friends, the most important point of all.  Jesus doesn’t just call you to use you.  He calls you to be with him, to be close to him, to have your life so entirely transformed that you will become more and more like him.  A genuine call of Jesus to an opportunity to be part of his amazing ministry is an opportunity to be with Jesus and do what he is doing.

Early in ministry I went on a retreat and the leader asked us to spend some time in quiet and imagine that Jesus was in front of us.  Just imagine that Jesus had walked right up to us and asked us this question:  What can I do for you?

The retreat leader said, in prayer, reflect on your life and your ministry and consider, what is your request?  What would you want him to do in your life and ministry?

I have to tell you that many things crossed my mind: Would I ask him for a big ministry, a famous ministry, a successful ministry?  Would I ask him for more resources, more opportunities?  What did I really want? 

And then it hit me and I remember sitting on a stump and simply, praying: “Jesus, take me with you.  All I really want is to be with you.  I want to be closer to you, to know you, to understand your heart.  I want to do whatever you are doing in the world.  Just take me with you.” 

My friends, that remains my deepest prayer each day.  All I want is to be doing what Jesus is doing in the world.  I want our church to be a community of people who are all ready to do whatever it takes to follow the call of Jesus into the world. 

Suiting up is readying yourself to become part of something bigger than yourself.  It’s not necessarily responding, but it is readying. 

So, you may be asking: What do I do to practice the spiritual discipline of suiting up, of readying myself for a particular call from Jesus?

Well, here it is:  Try on the suit.

Most people don’t discover a genuine specific call from Jesus overnight.  It usually takes awhile for those of us who have been so used to being spectators to even hear the call to “suit up” and get in the game.  And in the course of our lifetimes we may be called to a number of different specific callings in different seasons.  So, in order to be a person who is committed to something bigger than yourself, who is open to the call of Jesus that will rearrange your life, develop the spiritual discipline of trying on different “suits” to see what fits.

As you serve in this church or in the world, use it as a time of trying on the suit and considering your own calling. 

Use these last days of Lent to consider what Jesus did for you and what you can do in return. 

What do you think you might be called to do?  Where is Christ putting a passion in your heart a desire in your soul?  Where do you feel his “nudge”, his tap on the shoulder, his invitation to follow him more closely and be part of something bigger than yourself? 

Is it a ministry with the poor?  Is it a mission trip like we are taking to Africa? 
Is it a ministry of hospitality with our friends at Camp Pendleton? 
Is it learning how to share the gospel with unbelievers, defend the faith to skeptic or teach the faith to eager new Christians? Is it passing on the faith to the next generation?  Is it mentoring young families? Or leading a small group?
Is it being part of the leadership of this church or a particular part of our mission to the world?
Maybe some young people in our church need to consider a call of becoming a pastor.  Or maybe it is something that none of the rest of us have even thought of. 

In the 18th century, missionary, William Carey urged his followers to “Expect great things from God, attempt great things for God.” 

My friends, what do you want to attempt for God in your life? 

You may not hear a specific calling at this particular moment.  But it is time to open yourself to Jesus call in your life, using your specific gifts and unique talents.  It’s time to “suit up” and be ready to be put in the game. 

Suiting Up

Matthew 4:18-22
18 One day as Jesus was walking along the shore beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers—Simon, also called Peter, and Andrew—fishing with a net, for they were commercial fishermen. 19 Jesus called out to them, “Come, be my disciples, and I will show you how to fish for people!” 20 And they left their nets at once and went with him.
21 A little farther up the shore he saw two other brothers, James and John, sitting in a boat with their father, Zebedee, mending their nets. And he called them to come, too. 22 They immediately followed him, leaving the boat and their father behind.  (NLT)


We are nearing the end of a Lenten Series called, The Gentle Yoke: Spirituality for Stubborn Souls. In this series we have been looking at what it means for us to be yoked together with Christ as his disciples.  And today we are going to consider another communal spiritual discipline: What I am calling the spiritual discipline of “suiting up”. 

And what I mean by that is the spiritual discipline of readying yourself to become part of something bigger than yourself: of opening yourself to the possibility that Jesus will call you, you specifically, to a particular task, a particular opportunity, a particular experience that is part of his ongoing work to reconcile and heal the world.  And frankly most of us just don’t expect that Jesus is going to do that.

When we think of the idea of calling, most of us believe that only “special” Christians are called.  So, we think, Billy Graham, the Pope, and Rick Warren are called.  Pastors are called—at least some of them.  (At least we hope they are.) But that’s about it.  The rest of us?  Our job is just to support the called ones.  It’s to cheer them on and encourage their calling. 

I had a seminary professor that said that most of us view being a Christian the same way that I view rooting for the Angels during baseball season.  If I am particular committed, I don’t just watch on TV occasionally, I go to the stadium as often as I can good seats, I pay my money, I wear my Angel jersey, I put on my cap, I bang my thundersticks, I jump up and down for the Rally Monkey and I cheer on the players.  I feel as if I am part of them.  I call them my team and I am loyal to them. Even when they change their name to the goofy Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim, I stand by them.

But there is absolutely one thing that I am certain:  I am not getting on the field.  I am not going to play.  The coach will never call my name.  And as much as I might fantasize about Manager Mike Scoscia needing me in the bottom of the ninth, the truth is, is that I don’t really want to play.  I am afraid I will fail.  I would really rather just stay in the stands wear my jersey and cheer on the really “called” players.  I don’t think that I am able or worthy of being called.  I am not a player, I am fan, a supporter. 

In many ways, that was probably what Simon, Andrew, James and John thought of themselves as they prepared for another day of fishing along the Sea of Galilee.  They never dreamt that any teacher would ever call them to be his disciple. You see, in first century Jewish culture, most every boy started out with the goal of becoming a Rabbi, a teacher.  When they were of the right age, they would go “audition” with a Rabbi and if they were selected, they would become his disciple, learn from him and become a Rabbi himself someday.  If he was not selected, if the Rabbi deemed him not smart enough, not devoted enough, not spiritual enough, then he was not invited to become a disciple.  Instead he went home and took a trade—like being a fisherman.

In short, Simon, Andrew, James and John all assumed that when it came to doing something for God, they were in the cheering section.  They had not been called, they were not “in the game” at all.  They were not players, but fans, they were supporters.

But along comes Jesus and he walks into their lives and calls them to follow him, to become his disciple, to take part in his work.  Jesus’ words here are so interesting.  He calls out to them and says, “Come, be my disciples, and I will show you how to fish for people!”

The Bible says, they “immediately followed him.” Many people have conjectured about why these men were so eager to follow this stranger, but I think it is something very simple:  They all wanted to be part of something bigger than themselves. 

We want to be called.  We want to be put in the game.  We want Jesus to use us in some small, but significant way in one little corner of the Kingdom.  But what does it mean to be called?  I mean if God is the coach and needs a pinch hitter, does it mean that I just jump on the field and start swinging?

No.  At least not necessarily.  And let me be clear about this particular point by emphasizing this one phrase:  The need is not the call. 

You see so many of us think that to be called is nothing more than being willing to help out.  To be a volunteer.  To see a need and meet it.  But, that’s not the point here.  Jesus didn’t come to Peter, Andrew, James and John and say, “Hey I need some volunteers.  There is a great need out there.  People need my gospel.”  Instead, he called them to follow him.  Disciples are those who are called to Jesus and to join Jesus in Jesus’ work of meeting the great needs of the world.

That’s not to say that a call can’t come through a need.  Many, many times in life we find ourselves seeing a need and in it, hearing a call.  In many ways that is what has been happening in our church as we seek to start a new Hispanic ministry and a new ministry working with people whose lives have been devastated by AIDS in Africa.  Through the needs, and ample prayerful discussion, our Session discerned a call for our church. 

But, to be a disciple, to be yoked to Jesus is not necessarily about meeting the world’s needs; it is answering Jesus’ call.  And if we believe this we will suit up, we will enter the game, our lives will become part of something bigger than ourselves: If we heed the call, we will meet the needs.

You see, Jesus is the one who hears the prayers of the suffering world.  Jesus is the one who knows the needs of every broken heart.  Jesus is the one who died for the sin of the world, and Jesus is one who came to reveal the love of God to the world. My friends, if we heed Jesus’ call, our lives will be part of something much, much bigger than ourselves, our lives will be part of God’s plan in Jesus to reconcile and heal the world.

So here is a second key idea, which is a corollary of the first: If you want to be part of something bigger than you, practice heeding Christ’s call, not meeting human needs.  Focus on responding to Jesus as the very first priority of your life. 

Tomorrow: What a call from Jesus looks like.

Calvin on Communion

I want to wrap up this section on the spiritual discipline of eating together with one more passage from It Takes a Church.  When I was first beginning to talk about the centrality of the sacraments in Christian spirituality, many of my evangelical friends assumed that this was my childhood Catholicism coming out.  (I was raised Roman Catholic and have a deep affinity with Catholic spirituality even today.) But they were wrong, it was none other than the great-granddaddy of Presbyterianism, John Calvin that led me to want to restore the Lord's Supper to a more central place in our Christian tradition. 

At my ordination as a “Minister of Word and Sacrament”, my friend, Mark Roberts reminded the congregation that we are far more a church of WORD and sacrament. 

Indeed, in the evangelical tradition, we are a people of the book.  I too heartily affirm and honor the ministry of Word.  However, historically, the preaching of the word has been the primary practice of the Christian tradition and the sacraments have been relegated to a place of lesser importance.  Calvin helps us restore that balance by describing the church as the Community where the stories that define the Community as Christian are told and the sacraments displayed which confirm and demonstrate the realities of those stories to us in the here and now. (Institutes, 4.1.9) As a Senior Pastor, I am privileged to preach most every week and I believe that preaching is crucial to the spirituality of the church, when it is rightly understood as a communal activity of the people of God, rather than as a solitary experience of hearing a message. 

But… it cannot be emphasized strongly enough that for Calvin, the sacraments are the primary way in which the real presence of the Risen Christ establishes, maintains, nourishes and empowers, through the Holy Spirit, a transforming union with the believer. “Nothing short of true and full communion with the crucified and risen Christ is what is at stake...in the sacrament.”(Institutes, 4.17.12) 

Second, according to Calvin, sacraments are themselves relational events given to us by God to help us overcome our “mistrust” of God.  They are “methods employed by the graciousness of God to express and develop a gracious personal relationship with him.” (Baillie, Theology of the Sacraments, 54) 

Third, the Lord’s Supper especially demonstrates the necessity of Christian fellowship and Christian witness.  An analysis of 1 Corinthians 11:27 ff reveals that Paul’s critique of the Corinthians’ “unworthy eating” is entirely social.  “Paul was not concerned with the intrinsic moral condition of the individuals... but rather with the lack of appreciation for the communal implications of the celebration of the Eucharist.” (Pannenberg, Christian Spirituality, 41. See also, Gordon D. Fee’s commentary on 1 Corinthians, 557)  Wealthier members of the congregation would arrive early and be finished (and sated!) with the meal before the other members arrived.  What was intended to be a celebration of a community sharing and participating in the life of Christ was instead just another supper clique that reflected the divisions of Corinthian society. 

As Paul had written earlier in the letter, “The cup of blessing that we bless, is it not a sharing in the blood of Christ? The bread that we break, is it not a sharing in the body of Christ?  Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread” (1 Cor 10:16-17).  As I often remind my congregation, the celebration of the Lord’s Supper requires other Christians (even for pastors).  You can pray alone, study alone, sing alone or serve alone, but you cannot celebrate sacraments by yourself. 

Further, for Paul, the Lord’s Supper was not strictly speaking a “religious” event.  It was an everyday and public event that through eating and drinking “proclaimed” the Lord’s death and the salvation through it. In other words, the central activity of the Christian tradition given by the Lord as a fitting remembrance of his life and sacrificial death is in itself a relational event meant to reveal, in the everyday world the saving presence of Christ. 

Even more, this encounter happens amongst ordinary people through very common elements.  Scripture urges us to view the Lord’s Supper as the most ordinary of events.  1 Corinthians 11 depicts much more a family meal with the usual “dysfunction” rather than a religious ceremony conducted to the harmonies of Bach, played on an organ, accompanied by a choir and utilizing silver serving pieces. 

The human elements of bread and wine, hands and mouths, gathered together, breaking and pouring, blessing and giving, eating and drinking are from the most common human experience, meals.  Jesus seemed to break all customs about eating, spurning formality and fussiness, caring little about the character of those who ate with him. For him, it was an act of friendship and basic necessity, a most ordinary experience where people came to expect the extraordinary because of his presence and where consequently people were saved and transformed. 

The story of Zacchaeus in Luke 19 is the quintessential example of a person whose life was transformed simply by the invitation from and eating of dinner with Jesus.  No sermon was recorded; no miracle took place, just the salvation of God brought to a man through shared bread and drink--a relationship with Jesus in everyday circumstances transforming a human life.

Babette Goes to Emmaus

In 1987, a sweet film (g-rated no less!) won the Academy Award for Best Foreign Film.  Babette’s Feast told the story of two adult sisters living in an isolated village in 19th Century Denmark.  The sisters’ father was the venerated pastor of a small Protestant church that is almost a sect unto itself.  The film depicts the pastor, his daughters, the community and their brand of Christianity as austere and joyless as the harsh Danish landscape.  Then one day, a French woman refugee, Babette, arrives at their door, begs them to take her in, and commits herself to work for them as maid/housekeeper/cook.  Unbeknownst to the father and sisters, Babette had previously been the chef for the finest restaurant in Paris.

Some years pass with Babette cooking nothing more than broth and bread and boiled fish, until one day she comes into an unexpected fortune.  The sisters are trying to plan a dinner to commemorate their (now deceased father) and Babette volunteers to cook and pay for the most lavish feast of their lifetime.  Only the sisters and few church members who are used to nothing but the most simple fare can barely comprehend, let alone consume all that has been given to them so freely.

For those of us who watch the film, the contrast between Babette’s generosity and the church members' struggle with receiving such grace, such beauty, such delight is part of the sweetness of the film.  We who can peer into the supper from a distance more completely comprehend that the very piety of these dour folks keeps them from enjoying the free gift given to them.  Yet we also see the inklings of their understanding, the flashes of experiencing the greatness of the feast before them.  We only wish that we could be there taking it all in!  We get it, we want it, we know what a gift this meal is, what a sign of love, what an act of grace. 

If only those who are at the meal could have eyes to see…

In many ways, we who read the story of Jesus’ meal with his disciples after their walk to Emmaus are in the same place.  When we read the story in Luke 24:13-35 we recognize long before the downcast disciples the great and lavish gift in their midst.  They are with Jesus!  They will walk, spend the day and then dine with Jesus!  This is the great perspective of faith, the advantage of living on this side of Pentecost.  But how often we miss our own holy moments, how rarely do we recognize that as we gather together, Jesus is fulfilling his promise to be with us whenever we “eat this bread and drink from this cup.” 

May we have eyes to see the lavishness of God’s grace present with us whenever we break bread together.  No matter the meal, tis always a feast!

A Life-Transforming Meal

Today we continue our series on “communal spiritual disciplines” by discussing the discipline of “eating together”.  Since I wrote about this extensively in It Takes a Church, I’ll offer another excerpt as “food for thought.”

What Jesus gave us when he left us was a meal.  Don’t ever forget that the “high tea” that most of us do once a month or so with a little tiny piece of bread and a little tiny cup is supposed to be a foretaste of the heavenly feast of the Lamb that we will celebrate for eternity.  It is the most ordinary and extraordinary experience all at once. 

In the early church the Lord’s Supper was celebrated every time they took bread, every time they took wine. (See Robert J. Banks, Going to Church in the First Century, 1992,  for a description of what an early church gathering and celebration of the Lord’s Supper.)  They believed that every time Christians share the cup and loaf with other people we offer a remembrance of the Lord and are nourished by his Spirit; demonstrating in every part of our lives our connection to God and each other.

What we do when we were gathered on Sunday mornings is meant to be just a small foretaste of what Jesus intends for us all to be.  And, our experience of the Lord’s Supper—our living out the Lord’s Supper—is to be the most central demonstration of what we offer to the world:  Life-Transforming Communion.

2 Corinthians 3:17-18 says,
“Now, the Lord is the spirit, and where the spirit of the Lord is there is freedom. And all of us with unveiled faces seeing the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another, for this comes from the Lord the spirit.”

This passage teaches us that intent of the Spirit is to transform us through the face to face encounter with the glory or personal presence of the Lord.  In his commentary on this passage John Calvin asks, “So where is the glory of the Lord reflected?” The answer?  At the communion table.   (See Calvin’s Commentary on 2 Cor 3:18).

For most of us, this is a most unexpected answer, but tomorrow we'll look at how the film Babette's Feast gives us a glimpse of how truly transforming one great dinner can be. 

The Words We Most Want to Hear

This week, we continue our Lenten series of communal spiritual disciplines, by considering the spiritual discipline of "eating together."  Over the next few days we will consider both the sacrament of the Lord's Supper and the "regular meals" we eat every day.  If we look closely and listen to our Lord we'll see that the sacrament is a spiritual discipline and the "mystery" (which is, of course, what the word "sacrament" means) is nothing less than the extraordinary way that God comes to us and meets us in the most ordinary, everyday experience of all...breaking bread.

But to prime the pump here is a passage from Showtime where I wrote of the "words we most want to hear."

A few years ago a nationwide poll asked, "What word or phrase would you most like to hear uttered to you, sincerely?" Can you guess the first thing people wanted to hear? Not unexpectedly, it was, "I love you."  The second was, "You are forgiven." And number three, believe it or not, was, "Supper is ready." 

You know, I wrote my Ph.D. dissertation on the life-transforming communion that the church is supposed to be.  But those three phrases of three words may be the best description of the church I have ever read. 

“I love you”: you are my brother, you are my sister, because of the love of God. 
“I forgive you”: no matter what you do, we can always be reconciled, because of the forgiveness of God.
“Supper is ready”: Let’s break bread together, let’s eat together let’s share our lives together. Let’s gather around communion tables and dinner tables and share our lives vulnerably, forgive each other generously, join ourselves together in enduring and loving mutual affection. 

I believe that God is calling us to be people who take his message into the world.  A message where God says through us “I love you, I forgive you, Supper is ready.”

But before we have the right to say it, we must live it.  Maybe more than anything else we need to be a community that communicates to each other in both word and actions: “I love you, I forgive you, Supper is ready”

And to do so we need to allow the sacrament of the Lord's Supper to permeate our experience of every meal, every gathering, every day.  How would our lives be different if we didn't "limit" the Lord's Supper to the Holy High Tea that we celebrate once a quarter, once a month, even once a week, but instead was the mystery in every meal, every time?  Wouldn't the discipline of remembering Jesus whenever we "eat this bread or drink this cup until he comes again" certainly change both the way we eat and the way we live?

Because this is true: Jesus has come into the world to say to us, "I love you; I forgive you; Supper is ready."

Sitting Under: So what?

In Luke 10:38-42, when Martha complains that Mary is not helping her with the important work of providing hospitality for Jesus and his companions, Jesus tells Martha, “there is need of only one thing.”  And that Mary had chosen it. 

Now, don’t get me wrong.  What Martha was doing was very important.  Probably the most important thing for a woman to do in the first century was offer hospitality well. 

To be a gracious hostess was not just something nice, it was necessary.  It was the premier duty and responsibility, the greatest honor and the single activity that would define her life.  Martha must have felt so very important when Jesus asked to stay there and dine with them.  And by her hard work she obviously took her role very seriously. 

But when she appeals to Jesus for Mary’s help, Martha learns that nothing in this world is more important (not even feeding the son of God) than being a disciple of Jesus.

In the spiritual discipline of “sitting under” we give up our places of honor at the table to sit at the feet of Jesus.  We give up our roles of doing important things to listen and learn from Jesus. Jesus teaches us that far more important than what we do is what we are becoming. 

When Mary sits down at the feet of Jesus, she is beginning the process of becoming someone who can lead like Jesus.  Mary has taken the role of disciple so that she can someday be a teacher.  She has stopped doing to start developing, she has sat at the feet of Jesus so that someday she might lead others to Jesus.  And this spiritual discipline of sitting under Jesus becomes the key to a lifetime of making a difference for Christ in the world for everyone, man, woman, boy and girl. 

So many of us are so busy with so many important things.  We have business to run and families to support and responsibilities to fulfill.  But Jesus tells Martha that Mary’s choice to sit under his teaching is the most important choice she could make.

In all our important ‘doing’ have we stopped ‘becoming’? In all of our doing have we abandoned our first priority of being a disciple?

In all of our responsibilities have we stopped being those who take the time to sit under, listen and learn from Jesus?  Has doing important things and being important in our jobs, at our homes, in our activities taken the place of the truly important role of being a committed learner sitting at the feet of Jesus?

To many of us, submitting to someone else seems as if we are giving up our ability to be a leader, to make a difference, to be important.  But in the Kingdom of God, sitting under is the most life-changing and world changing place to be.

My friends, let this Lent season begin a shift from seeing yourself as a “doer” to seeing yourself first and foremost as a “disciple”.  Let it be a season of discernment, of listening, of learning, of letting go of what makes us feel important in order to do what is important.  Let it be a season of “sitting under”, a season of submission. 

Let it be a season of:
Being a listener…so you can become a leader.
Being a learner…so you can become a teacher.
Being “less important” so you can attend to what is “most important”…
Being a faithful disciple of Jesus Christ.

That is exactly what this spiritual discipline is all about: mutually sitting under other Christians so that we can continue to learn all we need to follow Jesus Christ faithfully and effectively.

In my own life, I have learned to make almost no decision without seeking the counsel, wisdom and perspective of wise, biblically sound Christian.  I have a covenant group of pastors that meet once a month and who email each other frequently as we seek to make decisions.  I sit at their feet listening as these pastors, all of whom are older than me, most more experienced, help me learn from Jesus how to lead this church as best I can.  I have a group of old friends who know me well and can speak very candidly to me. I have a wise and spiritually sensitive executive team that meets together every week.  And I believe that our Session of elders is God’s chosen counsel for me and for this church.  We work together mutually submitting ourselves to each other as we make decisions for the good of the church. 

And frankly, I never make any decisions without listening and learning from the one person whom God has put in my life and commanded me to submit my life to: my wife. 

Ephesians 5:21 is specifically written to married couples.  It tells them that as they are filled with the Spirit, their marriages will look different than the marriages of non-Christians in first century Greco-Roman culture where the man is the Emperor of his household.  Instead, it says, “And further, you will submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.” (NLT)

For me, this life of mutual submission to other wise, biblically sound Christians as an act of complete submission to my Lord is the only true and sound way to live. 

So, let me ask you again, what does it mean for you to sit under, to “submit to another” Christian, to accept influence from someone else as part of your acts of reverence for and devotion to Christ? 

Sitting Under: Listening and Learning

1. First, sitting under is being a listener
Luke describes Mary as one, “who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying…”

Listening is a huge skill for Christians.  Our lives are about listening to and responding to the voice of God that comes to us through the scriptures and the Spirit…and that most often comes through other believers.  Perhaps the most basic skill is learning to be a good listener.  And most of us are not. 

We are more concerned with what we are going to say, the point we are going to make, the argument that we are putting forward than we are listening to another.  We are more interested in what we have planned to do and want to accomplish than listening to what others have learned along the way. 

In one of his writings, Henri Nouwen points out that in Latin, the same root word is behind both “to listen” and “to obey.”   The obedient devoted life is one where we listen well to Christ.  Where we listen to Christ’s word of the scriptures and where we hear his voice coming to us through biblically tutored, wise friends. 

My friends, how are your listening skills?  How would your day change if the first thing you did was to listen to Jesus through the scriptures prayer?  Could this Lenten season be a time for you to practice listening more than speaking, listening more than doing, listening more than anything else?  Sitting under is being a listener.

2. Second, sitting under is being a learner
There is an old saying that goes, when the student is ready, the teacher appears.  That saying is a reminder that all learning and growth is dependent upon our attitude, our willingness to become the student, to take the place at another’s feet. 

Peter Senge’s book The Fifth Discipline declared that all healthy organizations had to develop the discipline of being a “learning organization”. In the same way, we all are called to be “life time learners” who are constantly and consistently in environments where we are sitting under those who can teach us how to know the word of Jesus and live the Christian life. 

I realize that we are all busy people with much to do, but the primary commitment of being a learner must come first.  This commitment to being a learner is at the heart of our Big Wednesday Adult Education program and our midweek morning studies.  And learning together, in classes and studies and small groups is what mutual submission is all about. 

Do you have a place where you are regularly the “learner”?  Do you have a regular commitment to sitting at the feet of another Christian and through submitting to the word of Jesus, you learn together?  Sitting under is being a learner.

Practice Sitting

Yesterday I began posting some expanded and edited excerpts from my sermon last Sunday as part of this Lenten Series on "communal spiritual disciplines" called The Gentle Yoke.  After considering the spiritual disciplines of "showing up" and "slowing down" we are now considering the spiritual discipline of "sitting under" or as it is usually called, "submission."

Now, some of you are probably wondering how a discussion on submission snuck into a series on communal spiritual disciplines.  Well, in many ways, true biblical submission is more an attitude of the heart than a rote action.  It is the humble opening of ourselves to others, to surrendering some of our autonomy and activity to regularly sit at the feet of Jesus coming to us through another Christian.  And, through the influence of biblically sound and wise Christians, discerning and living more effectively for Christ.

And that takes practice.  We are by habit human ‘doings” rather than human beings.  We prefer to think of our selves as captains of our own ship, sailing off to the destinies of our choosing, consulting only our own counsel, and being in charge of our own lives.  Independence, freedom, autonomy: these are the hallmarks of our existence we think.  These are our aspirations. 

But Jesus models for us and teaches us a different way of living, where knowing and submitting to the will of God is the first priority, not accomplishing or doing things.  Look at Jesus’ statements about his own life.  Here he is the incarnate God in the flesh, the ruler of all nature, the Lord of all nations, the King of Kings, the Prince of Peace and what he says is:

“I can do nothing on my own…I seek to do not my own will but the will of him who sent me.” (John 5:30)

“My teaching is not mine but his who sent me.” (John 7:17)

“I have not spoken on my own, but the Father who sent me has himself given me a commandment about what to say and what to speak.” (John 12:49)

Jesus demonstrates through his own actions that the life of devotion to God is not doing what we want, but doing the will of God in every circumstance.  And the key to doing the will of God is learning and discerning the will of God.  And here’s the brutal fact: you and I cannot do that alone. 

Neither you nor I can figure out the will of God for our lives, the goals and aspirations of our lives by ourselves.  Your life calling, your life purpose, your life direction, your life decisions are not going to come as a result of your own deciding and doing.  They are discovered through mutual submission to each other as an expression of our complete submission to Christ.

Now this one is really going to chafe at some, so let me encourage you to understand submission from the picture given to us by Jesus and then encourage you to use this season of lent to practice the spiritual discipline of sitting under: of being first and foremost a committed learner of Jesus through a lifetime of learning Jesus’ word and ways... from other Christians.

In our scripture passage, Jesus and his entourage of disciples arrives at the house of his friends, Martha and Mary.  Martha and Mary are sisters and immediately Martha starts scurrying around the house taking care of all the many tasks that need to be done when such an important guest comes.  And with Jesus and twelve hungry disciples (some of them ex-fishermen) there was certainly a lot to do.

In Jesus’ day, honored guests sat at meals, reclining at low tables.  The disciples sat at their masters’ feet.  It was understood that someday the disciple would become the teacher and that they who were sitting under the teacher today, were aspiring to be a leader tomorrow. 

But Mary, who is very likely Martha’s younger sister, shocks her sister and probably everyone else in the room by taking her place as a disciple, sitting at Jesus’ feet and listening to him teach.  Martha was doing what women usually did in that culture (the domestic chores) and Mary was doing what men usually did in that culture (sit at the feet and learn from a rabbi).  In essence she joins the men and leaves Martha for the women’s work. 

Martha complains to Jesus that Mary has left her to do all the work alone. Martha expects that the Lord will order Mary to get back to work fixing the meals, cleaning the house, and genuinely doing what needs to be done to take care of him. 

We don’t know if Martha was really bugged that Mary wasn’t helping in the kitchen.  She may also have been unobtrusively trying to hint to Mary that she was sitting in the wrong place.  Men are disciples, she was saying, you need to get up and get back where you belong with me.  Maybe she thought that a quick word from Jesus would get her back in line. “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me.”

Jesus surprises Martha by chastising her instead.  “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing.  Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.”

So many of us feel like we have so much to do.  So many responsibilities, so many pressures, so many deadlines.  So many cultural expectations.  We tell ourselves “Don’t just sit there, do something.”   But I want you to consider a different approach to this Lenten season.  Here’s the next spiritual discipline that I want you to consider.  As you are worried and distracted by many things, consider this instead: Don’t just do something, sit there. 

Don’t just start doing whatever is in front of you, whatever you think you have to do but instead take the time to sit at the feet of Jesus by submitting your life and your priorities to the influence of other Christians and reconsider all that you are doing.  (This is a slight twist on a post that I offered in the wake of the Tsunami disaster.)

Let this season of Lent begin a process where you see yourself first and foremost, not as a “doer” but a “disciple”, not one who has to accomplish everything, but one who is supposed to learn from Jesus what really needs to be accomplished.  Don't just live life, learn!

Let it be a season of discernment, a season of letting go of some of that which you must accomplish to instead sit under and learn from Jesus primarily by sitting under and learning from other Christians. The body of Christ is the presence of Jesus today, so we learn from Jesus through his word, proclaimed and taught by the body of Christ.  Let Lent be first and foremost a season of sitting under and learning from Jesus through his body. 

So, what does this mean?  Tune in tomorrow for more.