And one of the stories they
told me the story about how in the 1990’s, the parish went through a process of
looking at the worship space led by my predecessor, Canon Cliff Carr. The entire interior was being re-painted and the
chancel—the space between the rood screen and the altar rail—was being redone.
Out went the old fixed choir stalls, some of which were re-purposed for other
uses, like the shelves and the doors in the back, or else simply relocated. I marveled at the beauty of the work and thought to myself "If this parish calls me, it will be wonderful! And I will never have to do a major renovation or building project!" (Well... it is wonderful!)
But
the thing that those folks—some of you!—were the most proud of was that
free-standing altar over there. And it is lovely! Hand carved and
beautifully made, after twenty year or so, it is hard to imagine this space
without it.
[It was made by Don Lockard's studio, Eisenhardt Mills in Forks Township, and by Nick Strange presently of The Century Guild, of Graham, North Carolina, in the late 1990's. Strange's other ecclestiastical works include, among other things, the cabinetry for the new organ at St. Thomas Church on Fifth Avenue, New York City. The cross and the fruit carved on the front were painted and colored by our own Doodie Guenthner, who died last week, and during her life with us also did several other works in our parish such as our Stations of the Cross.]
But I remember another response. Once, we hosted a regional
gathering of clergy and the bishop celebrated, and the comment I received the
most was: “it’s awfully small.”
It’s true. Go and look at the altar in the chapel, which is
much bigger.
I’m used to it, so I don’t give it a second thought. I have
learned how to position the book-stand, and the offering plates, even the cereal
boxes, so that there is still plenty of room to bless and consecrate the bread
and wine of communion, for you all all to see what we’re up to.
And besides, the craftsman who built this altar knew what he
was about. Visually the piece fits our space perfectly, it doesn’t get lost
behind the rood screen, in fact fits perfectly within that frame, and the high
altar and reredos are the perfect backdrop. We can walk around it even when the
chancel is full. It works.
But it is small.
Or is it?
In the Gospel this morning, Jesus is at table eating with
his friends—and his enemies—and his frenemies. He did that a lot, actually.
Much of what we know of Jesus’ teaching comes from his table talk. Luke says in
this snippet that while Jesus was eating the Pharisees were watching him
closely. They wanted to see what he was up to.
Jesus had this habit, you see, of doing something unexpected
while eating with his companions, peers, and challengers. Like when a woman
bursts into the room weeping, and washes Jesus’ feet with her tears and drying
them with her hair. Or when someone cuts a hole through the roof to lower a
sick person down on a pallet to be healed. Or how at the last supper Jesus
washed his own disciples feet and declared that the bread they ate was his body
and the wine they drank was his blood. Eating with Jesus can be full of
surprises!
So Jesus is doing what Jesus does… teaching while they are
all gathered around, reclining (as they did then), passing around the food, and
conversing. A lot of Jesus’ teaching happened like this: questions and answers,
give and take over a meal. And this time, he is talking over dinner about
dinner etiquette. How everyday ethics turns on things like hospitality. How it
is that how we treat each other at table is pretty good indicator of how we
treat each other in life.
Jesus noticed that he was the guest of honor, even as they
watched him like a hawk. He also noticed how the guests chose the places of
honor and every one else sat in the cheap seats. The people who sat at the place of
honor got the best food and the best service and everyone listened to their
conversation, their witty banter, and their jokes; they laughed when they
laughed and sneered at what they sneered at. But Jesus said that the ones
looking from the outside in, were the honored ones. That the servants who
brought the food were the most honored of all. That the humble ones will be the
most exalted. He tells his followers not to invite the big-wigs and the
powerful, because they can return the favor. Instead, Jesus said, invite the
poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. And because they cannot the favor
there is blessing in the invitation.
Jesus is challenging all of our typical understanding of
invitation, hospitality, fellowship, and community. His call changes our
understanding of our service and outreach to the poor. He also challenges us to
see the gap between those we believe are ok to go to church with and those
Jesus is inviting into the community. And Jesus reminds us that when we invite
someone to come to the table with us we are in fact welcoming them as full members
of the family of Abraham.
Are we really willing to give someone else our place at the
table? Can we hear Jesus say: “Behold, here is Sam or Frieda or whomever. Are
you willing to meet them as they are and where they are? Are you ready to give her or him your place at
the table?”
Until we, the people of God; until we, the baptized members
of Christ’s church can answer Jesus’ challenge honestly, and then do the
opposite of what society or upbringing typically expects we will always be
limited in our mission, in our outreach and service, in our evangelism. Our discernment
of God’s imagination, and our ability to see the reign of God is directly
connected to our ability to see the face of God in the people God brings to us
everyday!
Every week a kind of miracle happens, we gather
around that seemingly small altar and share in Christ’s body and blood. And we
discover that feast is open to all, and that the banquet table is huge,
humongous, and endless! All of God’s people gather around God’s table in every
time, every place, in every kind of community. The table is as big as Christ’s
hospitality, and our welcome is to be as expansive as God’s heart.
No comments:
Post a Comment