Community Church Sermons

Eighth Sunday after Pentecost, Year B - August 6, 2000

"Table Grace"

Ephesians 4:1-16

Sometime during the first year of ministry in my very first church, I was invited to preach at a vesper service at Madonna Manor - the Roman Catholic nursing home in our town. I gladly accepted the invitation, thinking that this would give me an opportunity to convert the Catholics there to my particular brand of Christianity that, in those days, was pretty narrow and shamefully lacking in grace. I didn't realize that most of the people attending the service would be of such an age that those who could see couldn't hear, and those who could hear were too old to even care about what the young zealot had to say. Now I know why you never tell a joke at a nursing home service. Now I know why you don't sing a lot of hymns unless you want to sing them all by yourself. Now I know that reassuring people of God's love for them is far more profound than engaging them in discussion about matters of great theological complexity.

So I told my jokes, sang my strained solos, and preached my fire and brimstone message designed to save the world. And the congregation of nursing home patients sat there, many sleeping, some of them moaning, and even a few loudly talking to themselves.

And as this rather embarrassing situation unfolded, I could detect out of the corner of my eye the rather fearsome white-robed figure of Sister Thomas More, the nursing home director, pacing back and forth in the hallway outside - just waiting to get her hands on me.

When the service ended, Sister Thomas glared at me, waving me toward her with a long, crooked forefinger. I dutifully obeyed, heart pounding in my chest. When I approached her, Sister Thomas sternly said, "Come with me," and then she turned on her heel, leading me down a long corridor that echoed with the sound of her footsteps.

When she came to the last door, Sister Thomas threw it upon, sweeping her hand toward the interior. "In here!" she muttered with a voice that sounded like a school principal about to read a misbehaving student the riot act. Once inside, Sister Thomas said, "Sit!"

Just like that. "Sit." As if I were her dog.

But I sat. And wagged my tail. Just like a dog does when it knows it never should have gone to the bathroom where it did.

Sister Thomas' desk was like a judge's bench. She went behind it and sat down, still glaring at me. Then she reached into a hidden drawer. I half-expected her to pull out a gavel with which she would sentence me to burn in the fires of hell.

But she didn't. Instead…out came a plate of cookies! "Eat!" she commanded.

And then she reached into another drawer.

Out came a bottle of Scotch and two small glasses. She filled them to the brim.

Sister Thomas handed me one of the glasses, which I took in trembling hand. And then a beautiful smile broke out across her face. "Marty, cheers! And welcome to Madonna Manor!"

And even though I felt somewhat uneasy drinking Scotch and eating cookies with a woman other than my wife, I forced myself to do it - for the good of the Kingdom. So Sister Thomas and I sat together for a couple of hours, getting to know each other. I learned that she had been born in Scotland. A Presbyterian girl who had found Jesus in a Catholic mass. And when she came to Christ, Sister Thomas felt called to ministry, but that was not possible for a woman through her Presbyterian church at the time. So she converted to Catholicism where women have long been welcomed to significant ministry - at least as religious workers - where she could use her gifts in meaningful service to others. And she took as her sainted namesake the martyred Thomas More who in 1535 was beheaded for standing up for the faith in opposition to the policies of King Henry VIII.

And as Sister Thomas and I got to know each other, we became good friends. And in the years that followed, we worked together in that community. And some wonderful things happened to the glory of God and the advancement of the Gospel.

Now, Sister Thomas was never able to teach me how to enjoy Scotch, but she did help me begin to acquire a taste for something more important. Sister Thomas showed me the delicious-ness and the power - of grace!

We have been taking a journey through the letter to the Ephesians, and discovering that it is a letter about grace. Written to a number of small Christian churches in Asia Minor, the epistle reflects the growing tensions being experienced between Christians and Jews, between Jewish Christians and Gentile Christians, and between Christians and their unbelieving neighbors. How can Christians get along with each other? How can followers of Christ relate with those who don't know Christ? What is God's attitude toward those outside the walls of our own small sect, and how are we to respond to them? These are some of the questions the letter addresses.

And the answer to all these questions is grace. We are to meet the world in the spirit and by the practice - of grace!

You may not have ever noticed it, but Jesus never spoke about grace. In fact, the word grace is used only four times in the Gospels, and not once from the lips of the Lord. It's not until much later, as the church began to expand into the larger world that grace becomes the predominant theme. In fact, the word grace is used over 110 times in the epistles, suggesting that grace has a very direct connection to the church's movement outward into the world. As Christians come into contact with different people, different religions, and different values, tensions begin to develop. So how shall we respond?

Some would say by drawing a tight doctrinal circle around ourselves to protect us from them. Others might answer that we should develop creative ways to show these others how wrong they are, and how right we are. And still others would want to cook up schemes to scare people into capitulation to Christianity. Ephesians rejects all three of these ideas. Instead, it calls us to take a different approach.

In a word, Ephesians calls us to engage other people with grace.

Now over these past several weeks, we've learned that grace is lived out before God by loving people. And by supporting each other as members of the same family. And by living with the attitude that God's grace is immeasurable and that God is out to save everyone. We are not to think of others as though they are beyond reach, but to rejoice in the fact that the reach of God's love is far greater, wider, higher and deeper than anything we can imagine. We are to live in anticipation of ALL THINGS being united in Christ - things in heaven and things on earth.

And in today's passage, from Ephesians 4, we learn about another key element in living the life of grace. And that is that we must seek inclusive unity with others.

First of all, in the passage leading up to verse 7, Paul reminds us that although there is only one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of us all, grace comes to each of us in different ways! Listen to the text: "Each of us was given grace according to the measure of Christ's gift…the gifts he gave were that some would be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers to equip the saints for ministry…to build up the body of Christ until all of us come to the unity of the faith…"

Now the magnificence of this passage is that it describes not only the way God works in the church, but in the world! Every person you meet this coming week will be a person to whom grace has been given. I so well remember going to visit a couple who were members of a church I served who were still on the rolls, but had not attended church in over thirty years. I figured it was time to confront this lack and get them to either get involved, or have their names removed. But when I sat down with John and Grace in their living room, I saw something I hadn't really anticipated. They shared with me their intense pain over the loss of both of their sons during World War II. They were still grieving, and the grief expressed itself in tremendous anger toward God. And this made me a little nervous. I felt like I needed to defend God. Fortunately, I held my tongue. And more than an hour into the conversation something amazing came out. Grace said that one day she hoped God would explain to her the reason for her loss. John expressed some thought of seeing his boys again. And then I realized that, even in the swirling whirlpool of the terrible loss they experienced, there was still some small sense that ultimately, only God could heal their pain. In the midst of anguish, there was a glimmer of grace!

The Bible promises that God is at work through grace in the life of every human being. Sometimes, it's not all that evident. But our task, dear friends, is to find where grace is at work.. For when we do, we can come alongside other people as they are and in their need and, through including them in our love, give that grace opportunity to break out and bring life!

Secondly, Ephesians shows us that this grace God rains down upon all humanity is evidenced by gifts, some of which we need to be able to grow in our faith.

You know, as I look back over the people I've met in my lifetime, I can more clearly see today the graceful gifts that God placed in their lives for me and for the Kingdom. At the time, I didn't realize it because I saw these people not as recipients of grace, but for what seemed to be their deficiencies in faith. There was the church member who couldn't tell you when he'd been saved, but whose life spoke volumes about his faith in the way he cared for the homeless and the poor. He taught me that talk is cheap, and that real faith speaks louder through our actions than our words. There was the rabbi who invited me to share in the bris ceremony for her newborn son. I saw firsthand the beauty of parents naming their child according to Jewish tradition. And grandparents pronouncing Old Testament blessings upon the child. And the act of circumcision itself by which the child was grafted into the covenant that God made with Abraham thousands of years ago. And experiencing this moment brought me into a deeper appreciation for the meaning of covenant, and of God's faithfulness in every generation. I learned that faith is larger than my own life or my own belief, and that I am connected to something that God has been doing from the beginning of time. Then there was the young welfare mother in my church who was so very dependent upon both the government and the church. And yet, she would give the shirt off her back to help another person in need. She taught me something about the poor that I never knew before. The truth is that it is the poor who really care for the poor, and not we who are well-off. It is the poor, by the way, who give higher percentages of their income to charitable purposes than any other income group. And I learned that maybe I shouldn't kiss up so much to people like Bill Gates who give out of their abundance and never even feel it, and begin to admire more poor people like Kim who give out of their lack. And then there was the young man I knew whose childhood was stripped away and whose manhood was destroyed by the sexual abuse of a priest. He taught me that there are some people in our world who may never be able to be Christians because of what Christians have done to them. And he led me to believe that God's salvation has to be big enough to find a way to reach even people like him who cannot believe.

Why, in retrospect, I realize that every person I've ever met has been given graceful gifts. And these gifts have touched my life, and contributed to the building of the Kingdom. Who are some of the people you've met through whom you've been touched by grace?

Now, seeing others as people in whose lives grace is at work, and as people who have gifts that we need and the church needs, gives us reason to be willing to sit down with others, and get to know each other, and come to understand each other. Ephesians describes this inclusion as speaking the truth in love.

During our Community Church Conference in Chicago a week ago, we heard an interesting word from Dr. Michael Kinnamon, the Executive Director of COCU. COCU once stood for the Consultation on Church Union which was a plan to bring all the churches together as one. Well, that idea lasted about a week. Now, COCU stands for Churches of Christ Uniting, and a new plan has been developed.

Kinnamon noted that getting Christians to agree on anything is virtually impossible. Just about the time the Presbyterians agree to something, the Episcopalians raise some objection. Just as soon as that problem is resolved, the Methodists find a problem. And so on. It's like trying to repair old plumbing. It's like a living experience of the song, "There's A Hole in The Bucket, Dear Liza, Dear Liza."

So now the churches of COCU are taking a different tack. Appreciating the fact that if we have to achieve agreement before we can have unity, we will never get together, the various communion of COCU are now planning to do something radical.

We're going to step beyond the need to agree, and simply worship together. And do mission work together. And share communion together.

And as we share life together, we believe our differences will somehow take care of themselves.

And now that I think about it, isn't that exactly what Sister Thomas More did? She had some pretty real problems with the fundamentalist zealot I was in those days. But she invited me to table, and over Scotch and cookies, grace bridged the gap, and the Gospel was advanced.

And this is what this table is all about. We are invited to come and remember how Jesus brought people together. John the Baptist preached to sinners. Jesus invited them to supper!

For when we gather at the table, we have the chance to talk. And when we talk, we begin to understand. And when we understand, we come together. And when we come together, God gains entry into peoples' lives. And the Gospel is advanced. And the Kingdom comes!

Come to supper, dear friends. And then go, and extend your arms as wide as they can go. Include everyone. Exclude no one. Look for grace in the lives of everyone you meet!