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Thursday, April 9, 2020

Maundy Thursday - 2020

JESUS LAST SUPPER BREAD AND WINE Maundy Thursday Meaning


Together in Christ (1 Corinthians 11:23-34)
Rob Tennant, Hillside Church, Chapel Hill, NC
Maundy Thursday, April 9, 2020
*This message will be broadcast by Facebook and Instagram Live and posted to Youtube, but will not be preached to a live audience.  We – America, the world – are in the midst of the COVID-19 crisis which is causing people all over the world to avoid gathering in groups of larger than 10, and diligently maintain “social distance.”  It’s an effort to curb the rapid, worldwide spread of the Corona virus which can be deadly.

            What do you hear in 1 Corinthians 11?  “The Lord Jesus, on the night when he was betrayed took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, ‘This is my body that is for you.  Do this in remembrance of me.’”  What comes to mind?
            Do this.  Gather.  Jesus was with his disciples.  Paul wrote of that night in a letter that would be read to the gathered church.  Join together.  Come around the table where there is bread and drink.  Break the bread and share it among each other. 
            In remembrance of me.  In the ancient world, sharing a meal was no small thing.  The guests were linked to the host in fellowship.  With one’s guard down, one was vulnerable and intimate.  The guests trusted the host’s intentions.  The guests received the host’s gift of food, drink, conversation, and companionship.  The guests felt safe at the host’s table. 
            Jesus, the host, welcomes the guests, who, as a group, become one body linked in solidarity to him.  He, the sinless one, will, on the cross, take their sins on himself.  He who has no need to die, will die for all who are guilty – every one of us.  In his death, he joins himself to our condition.
            He also invites us to be joined to him, in his death, but also to his resurrection.  In fact, the meaning of Jesus joined to us in our sins is only fulfilled when he rises from the grave, and we are joined to him in resurrection.  Thus, the church is the body of Christ, him at work in the world today.
            Theologian Stanely Hauerwas believes that when Jesus is gathered with the disciples for what will be the last supper and offers bread they are to eat ‘in remembrance of him,’ they would associate the bread with abundance.  They have seen him take a few loaves and feed thousands.[i]  They got full on the leftovers.  They know that with Jesus there is always more than enough, and all who come to him will be satisfied.
            The two-way solidarity, Jesus with us in our sinfulness, us with him in God’s redemption of the world, is only one aspect of the unity we find at the Lord’s table.  As we are united with Jesus, so too, we must be united with one another.  The picture of the body of Christ, developed so artistically by Paul throughout 1 Corinthians and especially in chapters 10-14, is an image of many believers joined together with one heart. 
In church lingo, drawing from the New Testament, we refer to one another as ‘brother’ and ‘sister’ united in Christ.  Twentieth century Baptist scholar George Eldon Ladd takes this a step further when he writes, “A bond exists between all who are in Christ that is unique and transcends all other human relationships.”[ii]
I’m not sure if American Christians are this tightly bound to one another.  We attend one church until it stops pleasing us and then switch to another.  Such a casual approach would have been unthinkable to Jesus the night he pledged himself to his disciples knowing one would betray him, another deny him, and all abandon him hours before he gave his life for them and for all of us Christians who sometimes take such an individualistic, casual approach to faith.  Perhaps the isolation forced upon us by weeks of “stay-at-home” orders brought about by the specter of the Coronavirus makes us appreciate those times we can be together.  The church is not a collection of individuals who have each made individual commitments to Jesus.  The church is a group of people joined in agape love to one another in Jesus’s name.  Can we be the church and truly take communion when we are quarantined?
Contemplating this, I thought of a couple people forced to join with Christ when they could not be with the church in the body.  Richard and Sabina Wurmbrand, a Romanian Jewish couple, came to faith in Jesus during World War II as they opposed Nazism.  After the war, Communism overtook Romania.  The Wurmbrands publicly declared that their sole allegiance was to Jesus and not the Communist party.  Sabina ended in prison for 3 years, and Richard for over a decade, much of it in solitary confinement.  Eventually they made it out of prison and out of Romania, but their faith grew strong when they leaned on Jesus while in isolation.[iii] [iv]
John McCain also grew closer to the Lord when he was forced into isolation.  Before the late senator and presidential candidate served in the military, he was a navy pilot.  Flying missions in the Vietnam War, he was shot down and ended up as a prisoner of war for over 5 years.  During much of that time he was forced into solitary confinement.  Growing up, McCain had memorized passages of scripture as well as the Lord’s prayer and worship songs.  When he was allowed to be with other P.O.W.’s in Vietnam, and they were denied access to Bible, the passages he remembered became their scripture.  Reluctantly, he became the prison chaplain.  The faith that had been an intellectual assent in his younger life became a heart’s passion and a lifeline when he was in solitary confinement.  Cut-off from the world, he was joined to Christ. 
When we gather at the Lord’s table, taking the bread, and the cup, we are joined to Christ and to one another.  Ours is an embodied faith just as Jesus was bodily resurrected.  We are promised that we too will be.  Our expression of faith requires that we be with one another in person, able to shake hands, embrace, and eat and drink.   God in human flesh, touchable, real, dead and resurrected is the very foundation of our story.  We may itemize our beliefs as Christian; we may list our values; but the list only holds up when it stands on the story that has formed us.  It is the story of God in the flesh constituting a people, his body, doing his work in the world.[v] 
The reason the Wurmbrands could unite to God in Christ while in isolation and John McCain could do the same is they were formed by the story.  They were part of the communion of the saints.  For that same reason, we, each one of us locked in our homes by COVID-19, the dangerous, contagious Coronavirus, can be united to one another. 
It’s Maundy Thursday and we expect to be in Church, singing reflective songs of worship as we hear the story of Jesus’ last supper with his disciples.  He washed their feet.  He shared the bread and the cup with them. As we reflect on the Lenten commitments made on Ash Wednesday, we expect to be together as we retell these stories.  The stories come alive in our gathering.
We can’t do it that way this year and that’s disappointing.  It’s OK to acknowledge our sadness.  Obviously in our homes, with internet connections and other comforts, we’re not enduring the hardships McCain or the Wumbrands or other persecuted believers suffered.  It’s not about comparison.  The isolation takes a toll on us.  We miss each other.  I was in a Zoom call with a dozen pastors on Monday and every single one looked stressed out.  We pastors don’t know recognize ourselves when we’re apart from our churches for too long.  One of our Hillside members said it quite well to me in a phone conversation.  “Pray until you run out of prayers and then pray some more.”
God is with you.  God is with us.  God will bring us back together again.  Even though we, an embodied community, tonight are separated, we are joined in spirit.  Where you are, you and I and the entire church family will take the Lord’s Supper together in remembrance of him.
At your home, have the bread ready and the juice poured. 
On the night he was betrayed, Jesus gave thanks and broke bread and shared it will all who follow him.  He said, “This is my body, which is broken for you.  Take and eat.”
Then he poured the cup and said, “This is my blood, the blood of the covenant, poured out for the forgiveness of sins.”  Take and Drink.
After they had finished the meal, they sang a hymn and then went out to Mount of Olives.  We will close our worship with a hymn.  Please sing with me.

1 Let us break bread together on our knees;
let us break bread together on our knees.

Refrain:
When I fall on my knees
with my face to the rising sun,
O Lord, have mercy on me.

2 Let us drink wine together on our knees;
let us drink wine together on our knees. [Refrain]

3 Let us praise God together on our knees;
let us praise God together on our knees. [Refrain]


[i] Stanley Hauerwas (2006), Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible: Matthew, Brazos Press, a division of Baker Books (Grand Rapids), p.218.
[ii] George Eldon Ladd (1974), A Theology of the New Testament, William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company (Grand Rapids), p.543.
[v] James W. McClendon Jr. (1986), Systematic Theology: Ethics, Abingdon Press (Nashville), p.214-217, 332-333.

Tuesday, April 7, 2020

Facebook Live Devotional Check-In, April 7, 2020




            I discovered myself on Saturday.  Why Saturday?  It was food pantry day.
At the end of last year, our church entered a partnership with the Point Church of Chapel Hill.  Together we run a food pantry sharing with families that need the help.  The pantry is open the first Saturday morning of each month.  When the Coronavirus broke out in the United States and businesses started closing and people were forced to stay home, we upped the frequency of the pantry to every Saturday morning. 
          Just a couple weeks before this happened, I had a major ankle surgery.  In my medical chart it’s described like this: “right ankle allograft reconstruction of the ATFL, CFL, peroneus longus to brevis tendon transfer, calcaneal exostectomy, ankle arthroscopy, debridement, and synovectomy including large anterior distal tibial spur.” 
          What it meant was, for a couple of weeks, I was non-weight bearing, so I had to use a knee scooter to get around.  I couldn’t drive and won’t be able until sometime in May.  Hopefully.  In the long run, the surgery will undoubtedly be good for me and will improve my quality of life.  In the short run, my disabled condition left me depressed.  A lot of people deal with much, much worse than what I have been through.  But, it had me down. With “social distancing” added to my already limited state, I was feeling bad.  My spirit felt very low.
Since COVID-19 hit us, my family has volunteered every day at a food distribution site where kids who rely on free school lunches are able to get meals with school out because of the virus crisis.   My family also volunteered at the church food pantry every Saturday.  I have been unable to participate much in these endeavors 
However, last Friday, a month after the surgery, my cast was cut off and I was in a walking boot.  So, when it came time for the food pantry on Saturday, I was able to go.  To maintain social distancing, we have all the clients stay in their cars and we bring the groceries out to them.  Volunteers did that.
What I did on Saturday was I walked down the line of cars and greeted the drivers.  I asked each carload of people how they’re doing, dealing with quarantine and “stay-at-home” orders.  A few people didn’t really want to talk much, but most were very happy to converse.  They’re as cooped at home as I am.  It felt so good to greet people.
I’ll tell you what it felt like, just a little bit.  It felt like greeting people at church on Sunday morning.  How I have missed that.  Oh I’ve missed it so much.  What I love most about ministry is people.  I was on a zoom call with several pastors and I could tell they were feeling it too.
It’s Holy Week.  We’re used to being at the church building with the church people: Thursday night, Friday night, Sunday morning for the sunrise service and then the 11 AM service.  God designed me to be with people.  I have always known that.  Meeting all those folks at the food pantry helped me rediscover who I am.
What about you?  Do you need to look deep inside and rediscover who you are?  Obviously, we won’t be together for Easter, not in person anyway.  And I will miss it and feel a little bit sad.  But, the reality of Jesus, risen from the grave, is much bigger in defining who I am and who you are.  We walk in joy.  We are in the world, but apart from the world.  We have hope.  Why?  Because he lives.
If you’re going through a tough time, let me know.  I’d love to pray for you.  If we talk on the phone, I can pray with you.  If I don’t get a chance to talk with you, that’s OK.  You don’t need me.  You need the same thing I need, and we have it.  We have Jesus.  He tells us who we are.  That’s the most important discovery. 

Monday, April 6, 2020

Palm Sunday Message - 2020


Palm Sunday - Easter / Lent - Catholic Online

“A Warm Welcome for Everyone” (Matthew 21:1-17)
Rob Tennant, Hillside Church, Chapel Hill, NC
Palm Sunday, April 5, 2020
*This message will be broadcast by Facebook and Instagram Live and posted to Youtube, but will not be preached to a live audience.  We – America, the world – are in the midst of the COVID-19 crisis which is causing people all over the world to avoid gathering in groups of larger than 10, and diligently maintain “social distance.”  It’s an effort to curb the rapid, worldwide spread of the Corona virus which can be deadly.

            An online devotion that I subscribe to is d365.org.  I thought the entry for March 30, by Gina Yeager-Buckley is beautifully written.  She writes,
[People] are curious.  We click [on a weblink] and are taken down trails of news stories and headlines.  We click and are taken on a path of discovery.  // One of the privileges of having Jesus’s story is that we are allowed to wonder and ask questions.  A path of discovery.  We can follow the path our mind takes us, imagining what it was like to be Jesus; to wonder what was waiting in Jerusalem; to wonder why God had outlined this particular road for his life and death.

Curiosity is a Christian spiritual practice – a habit we ought to put into our daily routines.  Try it!  What do you think was happening while Jesus waited as the disciples followed?  What would you be feeling [if you where in his place or theirs]?  When in your life have you found yourself waiting for something big?[i]

            Shall we accept this devotion writer’s invitation to imaginatively enter the Jesus story on that day he came into the city, the day we refer to as Palm Sunday?  What was it like?       
            Matthew writes, “They had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage at the Mount of Olives.  Upon arrival, Jesus tells two of the disciples to go into the village ahead of them and fetch the donkey and the colt he will ride as a king entering Jerusalem.  If they are questioned about the animals, they are to say, “The Lord needs them.”  The Lord.  What has Jesus called himself up to now?  Sonw of Man.  Now, he’s The Lord?  As we turn the page and come near Jerusalem, near the end of the gospel, what has changed in the story? 
            The previous chapter, Matthew 20, says they were coming from Jericho.  From there to Jerusalem is 15 miles of desert walking, ascending 3000 feet in elevation.  That’s 6-8 hours of uphill, dry desert walking.[ii]  Upon arrival the parade begins.  I’d be tired, but people line the highway into the city.  They seem to be there to welcome Jesus.  Would the fatigue of grueling journey be overcome by the energy of the praises ringing out, praises for Jesus? 
            I picked out several words and phrases from this passage that caught my attention.  I think these highlighted depictions capture the feeling of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem and then his arrival at the temple and his actions there. 
            “A very large crowd”; no numbers are given, but it’s clear that Matthew writing decades later recalls a mass of people, large enough to be worthy of note. 
            “Shouting!”  What was this large crowd shouting?  “Hosanna to the Son of David!”  A couple of truly important notes to keep in mind about this cry that we might miss reading it today.  The “Hosanna” is from Psalm 118:26, a Messianic Psalm.  We have then, a large crowd brazenly shouting for all to hear a Psalm associated with the anticipated savior.  By calling him “Son of David,” this crowd believes him to be the true king of God’s people.  Their frenzy reaches such a fever pitch that they aren’t afraid even though their declarations of Jesus mean Herod is not the rightful king; nor is Caesar.
            “The whole city is in turmoil.”  Is verse 10 an exaggeration?  Did all of Jerusalem, the most significant city in the country really feel the force of Jesus’ arrival?  Whether it was exclusively the entry of Jesus, or there were several messianic movements converging on the city as Passover drew close, Matthew uses the word “turmoil” to describe the atmosphere.
            A debate ensues as many people ask “who is this.”  Many others respond, “This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth.”  Lord.  Son of David.  Prophet.  As Matthew fires titles for Jesus at us more rapidly than we can process, it is startling to think how little things have changed.  The debate rages on.  Who is this?  People ask, and others fire responses.  A great first century rabbi.  The prophet that came before Muhammed.  The Savior of the World.  My personal Lord and Savior.  As on that first Palm Sunday, today, whether we know the truth and walk in the truth still comes down to what we believe about Jesus and whether or not we follow as his disciples.
            “My house shall be called a house of prayer.”  Jesus enters the temple where he sees people buying animals for the ritual sacrifices made in worship services at the temple.  The money changers, exchanging temple coins for Roman currency, and the animal sellers take advantage of the religious pilgrims who want their sins forgiven.  Appalled at how this place intended to draw truly faithfully worshipers closer to God has been corrupted, Jesus flips over the tables sending coins in every direction.  Then, with a whip, he drives the animals out.  The braying and neighing and clinking and crashing and shouting – can you hear the cacophony of chaos? 
            But it is not chaos!  This series of momentous events that begins with Jesus arriving and then entering the city as a king, albeit a humble, servant-ruler, may appear random and out of control, but it is in actuality an orchestrated prophetic act that crescendos to the new creation climax Jesus announces when he says, “My house shall be a house of prayer.”
            To feel the full force of this, we have to hear the entire quote which Matthew surely shortened.  Jesus is quoting Isaiah 56:6-7.

And the foreigners who join themselves to the Lord,
    to minister to him, to love the name of the Lord,
    and to be his servants,
all who keep the sabbath, and do not profane it,
    and hold fast my covenant—
these I will bring to my holy mountain,
    and make them joyful in my house of prayer;
their burnt offerings and their sacrifices
    will be accepted on my altar;
for my house shall be called a house of prayer
    for all peoples.
           
            Accepting the title “Lord,” entering the city as a king, accepting the praise of the people known to be praise for the Messiah, brazenly defying King Herod, Pontius Pilate and Caesar, and the religious leaders who oversaw temple proceedings, Jesus declares that with his arrival a new era has begun.  What’s different about it?
            Matthew 21:14 says the blind and lame came to him.  He received them and healed them in the temple’s outer court.  In Leviticus 21:17 blind and lame people are prohibited from drawing near to the Lord in worship.  Why this prohibition exists is a debate for another day.  Suffice it to say it’s there, in the Torah.  In 2 Samuel 5:8, newly crowned King David reiterates this prohibition, banning blind and lame people from worship.  Jesus, God-in-the-flesh, overturns this rejection.  To him, the blind and lame are not people with blemishes.  They are beloved children of God he has come to save.  He, not a building called a “temple” is where people will come to meet God.  He welcomes all and hears the prayers of all.
            In opening the pathway to God for the blind and lame, Jesus declares God’s welcome to all in Israel, not just the religious elites.  In quoting Isaiah 56, he welcomes all outside of Israel.  The prophet promises that foreigners, non-Israelites, those outside the “Chosen People” who join themselves to the Lord will be accepted and receive joy.  God hears their prayers too. 
How do we join ourselves to the Lord?  We come to know Jesus.  In the Gospels, in the New Testament, and in Christian testimony, we see him.  We confess our sins and receive forgiveness in his name.  We give ourselves to him and pledge to live under his leadership as we declare that he and only he is Lord.  We become his disciples. 
By the end of the Gospel we understand that this temple, as beautiful as it was, as important as it was, in the end was not where God is found.  Jesus is the house of prayer.  Jesus is where prayers are heard.  Jesus is where God is met.  And where is Jesus?  The Gospel ends with him sending the disciples on a mission to multiply the church and saying to them, “Remember I am with you always, to the end of the age.”
God in the flesh has risen and will return at that time he said, “The end of the age.”  God the Holy Spirit is omnipresent, with you wherever you go and at the same time, with me wherever I happen to be.  He is with us, always, to the end of the age.  He is Lord, above all powers and governments, ruler of all, savior of all.  And, as the events of Palm Sunday, his Jerusalem entry, shows, he welcomes all. 
I know you are dealing with “stay-at-home” orders, looming unemployment, possible sickness, and other realities associated with the worldwide pandemic that is the Coronavirus.  I know you’re dealing with this because everyone is.  I don’t know how it’s effecting you.  And I don’t know what else might be going on in your life.  I don’t know your struggles or fears.  Jesus does.  He sees you.  He is with you.  He loves you.
No blemish you might have cuts you off from him.  No past mistakes get in the way of you coming into his arms of love.  The path is wide open and he waits for you with welcome arms stretched out wide.  You can step into His embrace without fear of catching anything other than joy, love, and peace.  Oh, and you might also get righteousness, hope, and encouragement.  He has come for all.  He has come for you.  He invites you to give your life to Him.
AMEN


[ii] Michael Wilkins (2004), The NIV Application Commentary: Matthew, Zondervan Publisher (Grand Rapids, MI), p.685.