Communion Sunday in Non-Communion Days
A Homily on Matthew 18:15-20
by Griff Martin
For the Fourteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time (and the Twenty Fifth of Covid Worship)
For the Beloveds of First Austin: a baptist community of faith
September 6, 2020
*This document comes from an oral manuscript.
Let’s pray... Incarnate God, we ask that you once again take the Word and transform it into a living and breathing reality we can all together experience. Be present here in this space and in these words God, for if you are present here then nothing else will matter, but if you are not present here then nothing else will matter. In the name of the Creator, the Christ and the Comforter.
It seems inappropriate to talk about gathering today. It’s like eating a fresh from the oven chocolate chip cookie in front of your partner who just went on a no-sugar diet. Or, it’s like talking about your hot, steamy, perfect date from the night before in front of your friend who recently went through a horrible break-up. Or, it’s like turning the TV up just a little bit louder than normal right after sending your kids straight to an early bed time without any screen time because of how they behaved all day. It’s like talking about gathering in groups to a group of people who are living in this odd time of isolation.
However, I think it’s what we have to do today.
Now let’s begin with a lament… we miss gathering. I don’t know your specifics right now -- it might be that you are living alone and in the last months, you have not gathered much with anyone and you are lonely and sad; you grieve for the gathering with just anyone these days. Or it may be that you are living with your beloved peoples and your peoples are the only peoples with which you have gathered for several month and you are exhausted, you grieve for gathering with anyone with whom you have not been quarantined.
We long for the days we can gather again as community around tables and restaurant booths and in Sunday school classroom and in rows at movie theaters and on blankets in Zilker Park and in pews at First Austin and on towels beside Barton Springs and around tables in the Fellowship Hall and in our seats in the Black Box theater and Zach theater.
We miss gathering, we long for human connection.
It’s what we do… think about when you were smaller and you woke up in the middle of the night after a bad dream. You went to find a parent, not because they knew something you did not already know (like that monsters don’t really exist, which you rationally already knew), you went because you needed a person to hold onto… it’s why we have big meals full of family and friends the night before weddings -- they are not making any life-changing vows the next day but it helps to know you have people supporting you when you do make those vows… it’s why we protest and we scream the names of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor and Mike Ramos because we know that together our voice is bigger and louder and we need to know that others care as much as we care… it’s why when someone loses a loved one, suddenly their driveway is full of cars. One evening in Baton Rouge, I had just finished teaching a Bible study and was getting ready to wrap the meeting up and my deacon chair walked up and motioned for another pastor and said to the group, “Rick will close us this evening," and escorted me outside where she informed me that during the study a member’s daughter had been killed in car crash and we were needed at the house immediately. We drove over to the house which was close to the church and as we were walking in the deacon chair took my hand in hers and stopped and said to me, “Griff I’ve never done this, I have never been with someone who just lost a child, what the hell are we supposed to do?" I said, "we just go, there are no words, there is just presence." We sat and held the parent’s hands for hours that night, we tried to pray when they asked but mostly we just sat and held hands and cried. When we left, my deacon chair took my hand again and she squeezed it tight as we departed and said, “we just have to be there for each other, don’t we?” And then she kissed my cheek and off she went back to her house, her family.
Gathering is one of the most natural things we do as living beings, we gather.
Which is, of course, why Jesus took gatherings and added to them… “Again, truly I tell you that if two of you on earth agree about anything they ask for, it will be done for them by my Father in heaven. For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them.”
You see, this is what Jesus did… Jesus took the ordinary things that we were already doing and then Jesus added a layer of meaning to them. For Jesus, the way was not about adding a lot of things that needed to be done in order to be a Follower of the Way, it was about doing what we were already naturally doing, just adding vision and presence to that.
That is the entire theology of sacraments… the ordinary becomes sacred because we are paying attention. It’s water and washing becoming baptism. It’s group singing becoming praise and awe. It’s bread and wine becoming Flesh and Blood. It’s humans naturally gathering together and suddenly being the church. It’s paying deeper attention to things and noticing that Jesus is there, actually being aware that Jesus is there and has always been there.
The prayer I use so often, "make us aware of your presence…" I don’t call on the presence of Jesus to be there, I don’t invite Jesus in… I claim what I think is the profound truth that Jesus is already there and there is everywhere and we need to be there too because if we are aware of Jesus everywhere, then nothing else matters, and if we are not aware of Jesus, then nothing else matters. It’s sacrament.
And it’s not magic, it’s not a formula… two or three add up to me there… Hear the text again flipped, “For where I am, there are two or three as well.” Which makes sense because of the wide arms of Jesus, where Jesus is will always be a place of inclusivity and of people gathered together. Nothing about Christianity is about individualism. Nothing.
Even in the days of quarantine.
Which is why I invite you right now to close your eyes. I want to prepare our hearts for communion. Deep breaths, one, two, three… Creator Christ Comforter… Setting your heart on the intent of our meal together as a community, the way we feed our hearts and souls… Knowing this, that in this moment even while we are staring at a dang screen, our community is gathered across this city and state, there are many of us sitting together preparing our hearts, we may have miles between us but our hearts are united… take that in… we are not alone, we are in this together.
“Again, truly I tell you that if two of you on earth agree about anything they ask for, it will be done for them by my Father in heaven. For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them.”
First Austin beloveds, dear ones, we are gathered together this morning, Jesus is present, we are present… and the table is set…
On the night he was betrayed, he gathered his people together. His gathering included his beloveds, his dear ones, even knowing that the very next day some of these were going to betray and run from him. But even then Jesus served them a meal of freedom and grace and love and wholeness. Even now Jesus serves us a meal of freedom and grace and love and wholeness.
Jesus took the bread and breaking it said, "this is my body broken for you. Eat this in remembrance of me."
Jesus took the cup and looking deep into it said, "this is my love spilled out and over for you. Drink this in remembrance of me."
Jesus says to us this morning… Eat this, drink this, do this, become this in remembrance of me.
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I want to close this morning by telling the story of one of my favorite gatherings, elephants gathering in Kalahari Dessert.
The Kalahari Desert is not known for its abundant rainfall. In fact, it is more famous for its drought season. However, once a year the desert floods, not because of the rain there, but as a result of rain in Northern Africa. The timing of the event is perfect. The rain from Northern Africa flows down to fill the Kalahari Desert, which, for a brief time, turns into a vast ocean. The timing of the animals is also perfect. They sense the coming of the water and all the animals arrive within 24 hours of the floods.
Many of the animals have quite a journey to get to the water. The elephants have the most difficult passage. To get to the exact spot that will flood, they have to walk for over 100 miles and brave horrible winds and sand storms. It gets so bad that mothers often lose their children to the wind. Elephants can barely see the elephant directly in front of them. But when those that complete the journey arrive, a celebration occurs. The elephants first drink until they can’t handle any more water. Then they rest by the water, and then they begin a celebration of playing in the water. They dance and swim. All of this because Northern Africa received so much rain, the abundance overflowed.
Today I want you to do the same… We have been living in a time of deep fear and scarcity, including a scarcity of gatherings. Everything in our world and lives seem driven by fear. We are exhausted, lonely, grieving and afraid.
But… and pay attention anytime we are describing our existence as exhausted, lonely, grieving or afraid, Jesus is going to step in and put a comma and a "but" where we want to put a period because exhausted, lonely, grieving and afraid are not last words.
But… This morning we experienced the fullness of Communion… We were reminded that we are together, gathered together in the name of Resurrection and Love, in the name of Jesus. And that the meal set before us is love overcoming fear.
So today, take hope in those truths… we are not alone, we are together and it’s love overcoming fear.
So this day, take a lesson from the elephants who after long journeys, scary journeys, find the abundance and are reminded that the abundance will always be there. So they look around at the gathering and they rest and they play and they swim and they dance.
First Austin, we may begin exhausted and lonely and grieving and scared, but we take a breath -- a centering, prayerful breath that helps us locate Jesus who is already and always there, and in that we are reminded that we are not alone, that there is an abundance and the love conquers all. So we eat and drink, we fill our hearts and souls, we rest and we play and we swim and we dance.
Amen and Amen.
*artwork: Community by Kari Sagal Allgire
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