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Date: September 5, 2010
Scripture Lesson: Luke 24:28-35
Sermon: Taste and See
Pastor: Rev. Kim P. Wells

As part of her seminary experience, our daughter, Angela, works part time at a Lutheran Church in New York. One day, on the spur of the moment, she was asked to lead the first communion class. The pastor told her to tell the students about her understanding of communion.

Angela proceeded to tell the young people that the bread and juice were metaphors for the presence of Jesus. Yes, we know that Jesus is always with us, and the bread and juice are a concrete, material way of being reminded of that presence.

Apparently after the class, Angela and the pastor of the church had a follow up conversation about what had gone on. The pastor seemed surprised at Angela’s explanation of communion. When the pastor gave her explanation, Angela, too, was surprised. She called me and asked me if I knew about transubstantiation and consubstantiation? Yes, and you will, too, I told her, after you take Christopher Morses’ theology class. (Angela attends the same seminary I did, and some of the same professors are still teaching there.)

Transubstantiation and consubstantiation. These two fancy theological terms label the classic explanations of communion for the Roman Catholic Church and the Protestant Church, of which the United Church of Christ is a part. Transubstantiation teaches ‘that the substance of the elements of bread and wine is transformed by God’s power into the substance of the body and blood” of Christ when the priest consecrates them in the mass. [A Handbook of Theological Terms, Van A. Harvey, p. 243] As one theological dictionary describes what happens to the bread and wine, the “inner substantial reality underlying its appearances, has been transformed.” [Harvey, p. 244] This is the classic Catholic explanation of communion.

When Angela got her lesson about communion from the Lutheran pastor, she was told that Lutherans, and those of the reformed tradition, do not believe in transubstantiation, implying that it is “magical” thinking. Instead, Lutherans and others believe in consubstantiation. This means “that Christ is ‘bodily’ present ‘in, with, and under,’ the elements,” but the elements, the bread and wine, are not “substantially altered.” [Harvey, p. 58] To Angela, and she is not alone, this sounded like hair-splitting. She is staying with metaphor and symbol, thank you very much.

In the story we heard from Luke’s gospel, Jesus breaks bread with his friends and their eyes are opened. A physical act conveys spiritual meaning.
Communion is one of the two sacraments of the Protestant Church. The Catholic Church observes 7 sacraments. Sacraments are outward visible signs of the grace of God at work in our lives and our world. They are rituals laden with symbols that point us to meaning beyond the literal actions taking place. We see this implication in the scripture we heard this morning. Jesus broke the bread and their eyes were opened. A simple human action leads to meaning beyond the actual occurrence. That is the implication of a sacrament. In the Protestant church, we observe the sacraments of baptism and communion because these are the two things that Jesus directs his followers to do in the gospels. “Go and baptize,” and “Do this in remembrance of me.” So these are the two sacraments that we observe.

As a sacrament, the observance of communion has evolved over the centuries. Its roots are in the early Christian traditions of followers of Jesus gathering for food, prayer, and teaching. They generally met and ate in people’s homes. The cooking and serving was done by the women of the household. Everyone was included. From that humble beginning, breaking bread and their eyes were opened, communion as we know it has taken many forms.

Just as there are many different expressions of Christianity, so there are many ways that the sacrament of communion is carried out. Some churches use bread, some unleavened bread, some use wafers. Some use wine; some grape juice. Sometimes grapes are used. In some churches communion is served to the congregation seated. In some the people come forward, as individuals, or in groups. In some churches a common cup is passed and the people drink from one cup. In other churches, intinction, dipping the bread, is the method used. And some churches use the little cups of juice. Sometimes the congregants serve one another. In some churches the people are served by some kind of official authority figures. In some churches communion is presided over by lay people. In others only ordained clergy are involved. In some churches only men officiate at communion. In some churches the clergy are served first. In some they are served last. In some churches you have to confess your sins before you are served communion. In some churches the people go forward, one by one, and the men always go before the women. In some churches gay people are not served. In some churches only children who have gone through first communion, or have been confirmed, are allowed to participate. Some churches will not serve people who have not been baptized. Some churches only serve those of their particular branch of Christianity. In other churches everyone is welcome. These are just a few of the many variations that churches have of doing communion. There are many traditions, rituals, and rules associated with communion.

My eyes were opened about communion when I was in college, and my father accepted a call to be the pastor of a church in Pennsylvania. The first Sunday that they served communion, I was shocked. When it was time for communion, 12 men wearing black robes came forward and they passed the plates of bread and the trays with the little cups of juice. I had been going to church in the UCC my whole life and I had never seen anything like this. So somber. Funereal with the black robes. And all men. What was this? After church, my dad explained that this was their heritage and how they had always done it. You had to be an ordained elder in the church to serve communion and only men could be elders. Well, by the time my dad left that tradition had changed. Women were being ordained as elders and they were serving communion along with the men, and there were no more black robes.

While there are many practices, traditions, rules and rituals associated with communion, what remains the same is that what we do points beyond the literal actions and it is laden with meaning. Meaning that can be positive or negative. Healing or harmful, depending on what is done, how it is done, and who is involved. But the sacrament itself has great power because it is an experience that evokes feelings and images that have meaning beyond the bit of bread and a taste of grape.

If each of us was asked to describe what we do when we take communion, we may all give a similar explanation of the literal actions taking place: The pastor says some prayers and blessings, she and a lay person stand in a central location, one holds a plate with little pieces of bread on it, the other holds a cup with grape juice in it. We go forward and line up, and one by one, we take a piece of bread and dip it in the juice and eat it and return to our seats. While we do this, there is music being played. That’s the literal activity taking place.

But the communion experience may be so much more. It is intended to move us to a deeper experience than the literal activity taking place. While we may see what we actually do in communion in similar ways, if everyone in this room were to be interviewed individually and asked to explain what communion means, I think we would get as many different explanations as there are people here. And that’s how it should be. Bread is broken in a certain context and our eyes may be opened. We may experience our connection to God, however God may be known to us. We may experience our connection to the earth in the food that the earth provides. We may experience our connectedness to one another, to Christ, to the church universal, to the faith community within time and space and beyond time and space.

Some may associate communion with Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross. Some may think of it as penitential. Some may think of it as an assurance of God’s love and grace. Some may associate the bread and cup with food, sustenance, new life and growth. Some may think of the elements as the actual body and blood of Christ. Others may think more symbolically and metaphorically. Some may explain communion in terms of unity with the faith community and with God and Jesus. Some may associate communion with death and consider it to be somber. Others may think of it as a joyful feast. Some people make it a point to attend church on communion Sundays. Others make it a point to avoid those Sundays. Transubstantiation and consubstantiation do not cover all of the bases. There are all kinds of ways that we may think about and explain and experience communion in the Christian church.

While there are many differences in our experiencing of communion, there should also be some commonality. In some way, the experience of communion is to be an experience of community, of eating with others. Communion is never done by one person alone. It is always done with others. It is not solitary. Communion is intended to enact community. This is central to the Gospel of Jesus Christ. His ministry was about creating community, overcoming division, and fostering reconciliation. Jesus was known for eating with everyone, including those who were unclean, dishonest, disreputable, sinners, women, prostitutes, you name it. We’re told in the gospels that Judas was at the last supper. Jesus really did eat even with his enemies. The followers of Jesus experienced belonging without exclusion as an embodiment of the expansive love of God. No one was left behind. So communion as a sacrament is about experiencing that sense of community.

Given this common vision, it is ironic that communion has become a source of division and exclusion in the church. Only certain people being involved in certain ways, etc. Of course, no one intentionally planned to distort the intention of communion, it has just evolved that way, little by little, one decision at a time, over the course of two thousand years. This reminds us that this significant sacrament, this ritual, can continue to evolve and change in ways that seem more reflective of the vision and values of Jesus for us today.

In addition to community, another common aspect of communion that we may agree to is that the meaning, the significance is more than the literal action taking place. Sharing bread and cup, however it is done, may evoke many varied emotions, experiences and responses beyond what is physically taking place. Some may say they experience transcendence. Some may say presence. Some may say grace. Some may say love. The explanations are and should be infinite. Because this is something beyond our control.

How this kind of rich experience may happen from eating a bit of bread and a sip of juice with a group of people remains a mystery. If you were telling someone, “I went to church today, we had communion. I ate a bit of bread and drank a small cup of juice, and I felt at one with the universe and the human family and felt that divine love was flowing through me and everyone there,” – I mean you would sound kind of crazy. The action doesn’t seem commensurate with the feelings. It sounds like a Coke commercial – Drink up and be happy. We have to acknowledge the unknown, the mystery in the sacramental communion experience. I don’t think we can fully explain the meaning of communion, and what may be experienced through this sacramental ritual. It is beyond logic and reason. There is power and mystery involved.

Years ago, it was traditional in the Untied Church of Christ and other Protestant denominations for young people to participate in communion only after they were confirmed as teenagers. The idea was that during the confirmation process they would be duly instructed about the meaning of communion and then they would be allowed to partake. About 20 years ago, the trend to involve children in communion began to emerge. One explanation given was that we don’t ask adults to understand and explain communion before they participate, why should we ask this of children? True enough. Another explanation offered was that if we have to have a full understanding of communion before we are permitted to partake, then would anyone ever participate? This was an acknowledgement of the mystery involved.

In the United Church of Christ, practices related to the sacraments are left up to the individual congregation. We have no outside authority telling us how we must observe communion, how often we must have communion, who must preside, who can and cannot participate and in what ways. These things are left up to the individual congregation. At Lakewood, we have sought to be guided by the ministry of Jesus in our observance of communion. We seek to let his witness open our eyes. Jesus ate with everyone. There was no litmus test for worthiness. He did not ask for credentials, or prerequisites or anything else. Neither do we. We take his “y’all come” approach. Far be it from us to circumscribe God’s invitation, God’s grace, and God’s love. All are welcome. We try to do communion in a way that all who want to can participate. And in a way that those who choose not to participate may also feel comfortable and accepted. We use grape juice so that those who do not drink alcohol may participate. We try to accommodate those with other dietary restrictions. Just as we do not exclude anyone from the table, we also are open about those who lead and serve communion. We have no rules about men only, clergy only, or black robes required! The gospel lesson mentioned that in the breaking of the bread, the disciples eyes were opened. We trust that through this sacrament, our eyes will continually be opened to the expansive, inclusive love of God and the ways that we are called to embody that love as Jesus did.

In the story we heard from Luke, Jesus and the disciples share bread and their eyes are opened. Somehow, I don’t think the discussion was framed around transubstantiation and consubstantiation. If someone were to ask me to explain the meaning of communion, I would say something about experiencing universal love, inclusive community, and mystery. What would you say? Amen.

A reasonable effort has been made to appropriately cite materials referenced in this sermon. For additional information, please contact Lakewood United Church of Christ.

Date: August 29, 2010
Scripture Lesson: Matthew 7:15-20
Sermon: Bearing Fruit
Pastor: Rev. Kim Wells

On our recent trip to Scotland, we visited the beautiful island of Iona. It is a small island, about a mile and a half wide and three and a half miles long, off the island of Mull, on the western side of Scotland. The water around Iona looks like the blue of the ocean around the Bahamas. Sheep graze on the hillsides. It is an idyllic paradise. But what makes Iona particularly special is not just its beauty but its religious significance. First a significant site to pagans in pre-Christian Scotland, it is the site where Christianity first came to Scotland. So it is hallowed as a sacred place, the birthplace of Christianity in Scotland.

Now, how did Christianity arrive at this tiny, remote spot? That is quite another story. Christianity was brought to Iona in 563 by St. Columba who is revered there and throughout Scotland. There are shrines to him, stained glass windows commemorating him, and he is referred to again and again. He is ever- present. And how did he come to found a Christian community on this remote island? Columba was from Ireland, which had a very well educated, advanced society at that time. Columba was of royal Irish blood. He had dedicated his life to the church and was trained by the wisest leaders of the church. Columba was a missionary in Ireland from the time he was 25 until he was 40. He established churches and monasteries. Then a local chieftain violated the sanctity of one of his churches. The church was giving sanctuary to a noble fugitive. And the chieftain pursued the nobleman into the church. Columba got the support of his powerful family and went to war against the offending chieftain. In the ensuing battle, it is said that Columba lost only one man, while his army killed 3,000 of the enemy. He attributed his victory to his Christian faith. Other leaders in the church were jealous of Columba and his power, and they arranged for him to be excommunicated for the 3,000 deaths that he caused. Columba was eventually reinstated and told to go and save as many souls as had been lost in the battle. He felt great remorse and decided to redeem himself through self-inflicted exile. He would leave his beloved native land and serve God elsewhere. He left Ireland in a small boat with 12 others and headed east. Iona was the first land that he came to from which he could not see Ireland. He felt that if he could see Ireland, he would not be able to resist the temptation to return. So, he settled on Iona, and established a monastery which brought Christianity to Scotland and beyond. [From “Welcome to Iona” by John Brooks, 1982]

It is quite a story of commitment and redemption, but I found myself disturbed by the violence involved. Christianity spread as the result of violence? This just doesn’t sound like the faith and values of the Jesus we know from the New Testament. It left a bad taste in my mouth. Bad fruit.

And then, as we traveled around Scotland and visited various churches and cathedrals, the veneration of another religious figure emerged. John Knox, noted Protestant Reformer, responsible for the establishment of the Church of Scotland, and revered as the patriarch of the Presbyterian Church. In many towns and churches there were plaques commemorating that “John Knox preached here.” But as we learned more about his legacy, from museums and churches, a pattern seemed to emerge: John Knox preached here and following the service the people rushed out and attacked the Catholics. Knox was known for preaching such a stirring sermon that the congregation was incited to violence. Again, I found this disturbing. Is this how Jesus spread love of God and neighbor? I don’t think so. Bad fruit.

And before we relegate this perpetration of violence by the church to Europe, we want to remember that Christianity has been a source of much violence on our shores as well: Beginning with the killing of the indigenous peoples and going on to the banishing and executing of heretics in Puritan New England, the Salem witch trials, the endorsement of slavery and more. More bad fruit, on our continent.

This week there are several anniversaries of important events in American history. On August 29, 1758, the first Indian reservation was established in this land, in New Jersey. And did the church of the time decry that injustice? No. On August 26, 1920, voting rights for women were endorsed by the US Congress. Did the church offer wholehearted, vociferous support for this initiative? No. On August 29, 1957, the Civil Rights Act was ratified. And did the Christian church across this nation support that justice effort? No. And on August 28, 1963, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. gave the “I have a dream” speech on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. And ask people of the time. The Christian community of the US did not wholeheartedly support King’s movement, it was not even supported by the majority of African American churches in the US. Bad fruit.

And violence and intolerance continues to be supported by the church in many of its expressions in our country today. Either overtly or through silence, the majority of churches in this country support the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. You have to wonder. If these countries were Christian countries would these wars be so well-supported? And we cannot resort to saying, “Well, a Christian country would not have had such an evil dictatorship as that of Saddam Hussein, or the Taliban.” But what about Nazi Germany? A Christian country, led by a heinous dictator who perpetrated genocide using the church as an ally to further his aims, and with very little dissent from the church of the time. Bad fruit.

Much of the violence and hostility being directed toward Muslims in this country today is the by-product of the teaching of churches that Christianity is exclusively right and superior to other religions, and Islam is violent and evil. The Christian church produces its share of bad fruit.

Recently writer Anne Rice has made a public declaration about leaving the church. In a posting on her Facebook page, she said: “I remain committed to Christ as always but not to being ‘Christian’ or to being part of Christianity. It’s simply impossible for me to ‘belong’ to this quarrelsome, hostile, disputatious, and deservedly infamous group. I refuse to be anti-gay. I refuse to be anti-feminist. I refuse to be anti-artificial birth control. I refuse to be anti-Democrat. I refuse to be anti-secular humanism. I refuse to be anti-science. I refuse to be anti-life. In the name of Christ, I quit Christianity and being Christian. Amen.”

Sure, the faith community has its problems. That’s what Jesus was talking about in the scripture lesson that we heard this morning. There were problems in his day, too. This is nothing new – this using religion for personal gain, to promote a political agenda, to pursue power and control. It has ever been thus. Bad fruit.

But religion is also responsible for good fruit. Most Christians, Buddhists, Hindus, Muslims, Jews, Bahais, etc. seek to be dedicated to compassion and service. We are trying to be good people. Honest, generous, caring, etc. We desire to bear good fruit.

And while religion has the potential for harm, it also has at least as much potential to foment good. We need the community of support, the focus beyond ourselves, the encouragement to live for others, the values of community over individuality, and the access to our deepest spiritual resources, all of which Christianity provides, to bear good fruit. We need the church in the true spirit of Jesus to tend and nurture us so that we can bear good fruit. Left to our own devices, this is not likely to happen.

Jesus faced the challenge of the corruptibility and abuse of religion leading to bad fruit as we do today. But we want to remember that Jesus’ goodness, his compassion, his dedication to service, all came from his religious context, his religious tradition, and his religious community. His commitment to anti-violence, his sense of justice, his investment in forgiveness and mercy, his trust in redemption, his creating of community – all of it came from his religious roots. Without the Jewish religion, there would be no Jesus. Religion has the potential to produce good fruit.

Jesus shows us the dangers and abuses that plague religion, but he also shows us the good it can do. Despite the problems with the religious leaders of his day, Jesus does not start a new religion. Christianity only emerges as a separate religion several decades after Jesus’ death. Jesus does not abandon religion. He continues to be an observant, devout Jew until his death. He shows us all that religion can be. How it can foster the bearing of good fruit.

Through religion and religious teachings, Jesus shows us how to bear good fruit in all aspects of our living: our personal lives, our families and relationships, our lifestyle, our use of resources, our advocacy, our business practices, our work and our play. He shows us that every aspect of our living can be an opportunity for the bearing of good fruit.

Yes, Scotland has a very violent history. And our guide at the Glasgow Cathedral, told us rather abashedly, that Scots like to fight. Their national motto amounts to, Hit us and we’ll hit you back. (So much for turn the other cheek and love your enemy.) But at least they are honest about it! And we were told by a reputable source that Scotland is rated as one of the most violent countries in the developed world. But they also have the image that the US is very violent. The US-initiated war in Afghanistan is very unpopular in the United Kingdom. And the US is renowned in the UK for personal violence as well. A guide at the National Museum of Scotland in Edinburgh mentioned to our group that everyone in the US carries a gun. Obviously that is a ridiculous caricature. But, the US is a very violent society. The solution is not to get rid of religion. Cut down the tree. Then where will the good fruit come from?

In a wonderful letter to the editor responding to Anne Rice leaving Christianity, LUCC member Mark Gibson suggests, “I encourage Anne Rice and others who feel alienated and berated by Christianity to consider joining a progressive congregation. Don’t abandon the church altogether, but join with others to create a new version of church.” [St. Petersburg Times, 8/21/10]

We are needed to tend and nurture the vision and values of Jesus because what the world needs now is more good fruit! Amen.

A reasonable effort has been made to appropriately cite materials referenced in this sermon. For additional information, please contact Lakewood United Church of Christ.