November 7, 1999
"Come to Supper, Kids!"
Back in Bartlesville, Oklahoma, many years ago, we all
lived in our own little houses, with our own yards. Kids
played freely up and down the neighborhood. I don't
remember that we had either homework or TV so there was
plenty of play time before supper.
But every evening at 6PM sharp, my mom, like every mom,
would go to the backdoor, fling open the screen, and yell
out: "Bobby Gene! Come to supper!" And so up and down the
block:
"Eddie! Come to supper! Mary, Louise, Tom, Henry: All you
kids, come to supper!"
We have a deep and abiding desire to be called home, to
be welcomed into familiar space by familiar love. Nothing
like mom's good home cooking to reassure us!
But we also have an equally powerful urging to leave
home; to seek something beyond; to adventure into the
unknown. We want to grow up! That is what a career is all
about. That is what spirituality is about. We know we have
a destiny which demands choices, movements, departures and
arrivals. We sense the call of heaven.
***********
The children of Israel in the stories from Exodus are
making a series of fateful decisions about their spiritual
home. Last week they decided to cross from the far side of
the wilderness with which after 40 years they had grown
familiar; to cross into the Promised Land. In today's
story, their general, Joshua, summons the tribe to a great
meeting at a place called Shechem. The Hebrews are about to
be challenged to grow up.
Probably because he was a military type, Joshua is
precise and intimidating about why the Hebrews must choose
God to serve. He warns them that Yahweh is holy and a
jealous God. The verses l9 and 20 are troublesome for me
because Joshua threatens that "Yahweh will turn and do you
harm, and consume you, after having done you good." It seems
that the Hebrew people were being asked to choose their
future more out of fear than anything else.
Fear is not a healthy motive for venturing forth in life;
and not a good reason to choose God. Still, many Christians
say: Unless you are good, you'll be damned; unless you are
loyal to God, you'll be punished. Unless you subscribe to a
specific set of beliefs and do exactly as a particular
church tells you, you may be lost forever to heaven.
Christians have always had common creeds, but these
creeds are impressively silent on the particular issues
which some Christians want to make the litmus test of
salvation and of unity.
Better, it seems to me to go with the creeds, affirming
common agreement on a few essentials; and practicing
tolerance on all other matters.
But then we have the tough story from Matthew of today.
Jesus sounds as demanding and judgmental as Joshua. The
poor man who didn't make a wise choice in managing the
talent entrusted to him is stripped of everything and thrown
into outer darkness.
We need to appreciate the context: Jesus has just left
the temple in a deep funk. He has predicted the destruction
of the temple and is focused on his own imminent death. He
retreats with the disciples to the Mount of Olives where his
friends begin to pester him about when Jesus will reign in
glory and what will be the signs of the Kingdom. He
responds with a series of parables of which today's is one.
We also need to remember that the recollection is from
the church of Matthew, a church in which considerable
disillusionment had set in. Believers were, in fact, losing
their hope in the return of Christ and the church was
becoming stale. Matthew needed a Jesus to rouse the
dullards!
It seems to me that the application of the parable to us
is that we do make a series of choices in life and that
those choices will lead us closer to heaven or farther from
heaven. We are accountable for what we do when we leave
home. We are responsible for growing up. Like the Hebrews,
we are continually challenged to choose this day whom we
will serve.
We respond in choices by the places we go and the things
we buy; by the persons we choose as our friends and guides;
by whom we seek as a life's partner. We choose God, or turn
elsewhere, when we budget our income and its disposition;
when we decide whether we will be present or absent at
worship; when we decide to train our children and others'
children in the way of the Lord or leave them to the mercies
of the world. When we decide whether we will speak out
against intolerance and bigotry, or turn convenient blind
eyes to the hurting of others.
It's hard to go out, and grow up, and venture through
life with a demanding God who is jealous but also loving.
Fortunately for us, we have the full context of Jesus
teaching about God and our relationship with God to soften
the judgement of Matthew 25. For Jesus told of a heaven
which is not the antithesis of home but the completion of
our journey. As the poet T.S. Elliott put it: "At the end
of all our journeying toward heaven, we will discover that
we have come home." The prodigal son found accountability
and fuller life when he came home.
Jesus spoke in other parables of the God who does not
give just one chance, and then, should we fail, forever
yanks the rug of His grace from under us. The God of Jesus
specialises in second chances and many crossings of the
river of meaning which winds through our lives. The river
of meaning bends and turns several ways and crosses back
upon itself so that we have other crossings into the
Promised Land. And every time God is near.
One of the great crossings toward heaven is when we make
the adult's decision to be baptised, or when as an adult, we
decide to reaffirm our infant baptism. The church asks us
then: "Do you choose to serve God today? If so, do you see
God in the face of Jesus?"
Baptism is one of the great crossings from the home we
have known toward heaven. But our journey does not end with
baptism. We get chance after chance to respond to our
baptism's vows. "Bobby Gene, come to supper!" That was my
mom's urgent yet comforting call of a life time ago. I miss
that comforting reassurance that there was a place always
waiting for me with love's evidence at the table. And all I
needed to do to belly up for the feed was to wash my hands!
Jesus also gives us a call: "Everybody, come to my
supper." Coming to communion is the response Jesus
encourages us to make again and again.
And just like the summons which echo in my memories of
childhood, all I need do is wash my hands before coming to
table. Beyond sincerity, there is no requirement, certainly
no rejection, no exclusions. The churches at various times
and for their own historical needs have fenced in the supper
of Jesus. But we are moving away from those requirements
because it's undeniable his supper we celebrate now.
Jesus calls: "Come to supper, all you kids." Come to
heaven; and come home.
Pastor
Gene Preston
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