A reflection on Mark 7 v 1-23
I’ve been thinking a
lot recently about how we do things together as church - both locally and
nationally and reflecting particularly on what it must be like for new folk to
come here to worship, be they from other similar worshipping congregations or
from no particular church background.
What I've been very
aware of is the things we do almost unconsciously simply because they are a
part of our tradition or because that's just the way we have always done them.
Like communion.
Today, as we come
to celebrate this sacrament of communion together, we celebrate a memorial of
love and grace - a reminder of the love that God has for us, of how that love
was demonstrated in Jesus' death and of how that love is still ours today, free
for the taking.
Communion - A memorial
Jesus set up in very poignant but simple surroundings, over a meal with friends
the night before his death.
A memorial that we
have shrouded in solemnity and ritual.
A ritual that,
though we might never be entirely comfortable, we are nonetheless familiar
with.
But how must our
celebration of this sacrament look to those who haven't grown used to all those,
let's face it, strange things we do?
A memorial that,
though it started off quite simply has become so formal and complex that we
worry if we will get it just right - or, will we drop the bread or spill the
wine or do something else equally heinous?
I cannot imagine
that there was much ceremony around when Jesus instituted this memorial with
his disciples over supper.
Indeed I imagine
that, although they may well have been affected by a somber attitude - they
didn't know what was to come, but Jesus had a pretty good idea - So although
things might have been pretty sober, I'm sure they weren't particularly
ordered.
Of course to
celebrate the sacrament together as a fellowship here with so many more people
than gathered round the table with Jesus, it helps to have some order, but we
could relax more as we share.
We could even smile
as we serve each other.
What matters is
that everyone feels welcome here at this table, that everyone feels able to
share, that everyone knows that this is for them, that Gods grace touches us
all here.
That is what
matters in communion – the touch of God’s grace.
We have shrouded
the love and the grace that Jesus wanted us to celebrate , we have shrouded
that love and grace in ritual and formality and tradition.
The challenge for every generation in the
church is to sort through the traditions handed on to us and, taking care not
to throw out the baby along with the bath water to sift through those
traditions, preserving only those that still further the cause of the gospel.
No pressure there
then!
Often, the church
today, shows itself to be living at a disconnect from the people it serves.
But the church is a
body of people, so how is it possible to get so out of touch with each other?
One way the church
becomes irrelevant is when it stops listening.
Over the past wee
while various branches of the church have issued pronouncements, believing that
they can speak for the people.
But that position
can only be adopted if the church is also prepared to listen, and to listen
carefully so that it captures the real concerns of the people it serves.
Otherwise the
church displays only arrogance and a disconnect from community.
Each community has
a story to tell, a story that is vital and constantly unfolding as life moves
on.
And those stories
matter.
Traditions are
often pointers to that story.
But the story moves
on.
And so must
tradition if it is to retain any relevance.
.
The faith keepers
of Jesus’ day were concerned about hand washing.
Men, who had the
luxury of access to all the conveniences required to righteously adhere to an ancient
ritual.
Who failed to see
that ordinary people had moved on.
Ordinary people who
had no less desire to be people of faith but who simply saw the nonsense in getting so tied up
in knots with an ancient practice when faced with much more pressing issues of
the day.
The same kinds of
issues that face us today.
Huge populations
with no access to clean water for basic survival never mind the luxury of using
water to purify so that an ancient tradition can be preserved.
Surely today we see
and hear Jesus saying to us – get real.
When the hungry are
fed.
When the naked are
clothed.
When the homeless
are housed.
When You who follow
me, calling yourselves Christian, live out the love that I commanded, then we
can look at traditions.
But then there will
be no need.
For we will have
learned, in loving and serving each other, that none are to be discarded, that
none are unclean.
Besides, we will be
too busy anyway, to have energy to spend on things that do not matter.
God is not offended
by what we consider unclean.
God is offended by
our lack of love.
And a church that
thinks that she serves God by excluding any of God’s children is a
church that has travelled too far on its own path, too far from the will of
God.
A church that doesn’t deserve to be
taken seriously.
Today, in worship, we
celebrate an ancient tradition.
The particular mode
of celebration matters not a bit.
What matters is
that, as we mark here the remembrance of a body broken for us and blood spilled
for us, we scratch the surface of the ritual and recognise the grace that
underlies it.
We celebrate here
because Christ died for us – all of us.
Even the symbols we
use, bread and wine have become symbols of status.
Symbols that point
to our privilege.
As we take for
granted these elements of bread and wine in a world where many go hungry, it is
even more important that from our place of prosperity we take seriously the
demands of the one who gave us these symbols. – Christ’s love and
compassion. His acceptance of all.
Our gospel passage,
in The Message version of the bible reads:
“We’re saying
the right thing – but our heart’s not in it.“
“We’re using
Jesus for cover for teaching whatever we fancy”
Are we guilty of
that today?
Now, just like the
disciples then, we want to ask: We don’t get it Jesus– what does this
gospel really mean?
I believe, for us
today it means:
It’s not the things
around us that contaminate us.
It’s not the dilemmas
we face today.
But it’s how we respond to
those dilemmas.
How we respond to
those who are different.
Do we act out of
love?
Out of compassion?
Or are we more
concerned that by being open, accepting, welcoming, we will somehow become less
ourselves.
As God’s people today we
are called, not to hold ourselves separate from our contemporaries, not to shun
those who we see as different, not to keep ourselves and the traditions we hold
dear pure.
We cannot be
compromised by our embracing the world of today – that is what God
calls us to do.
And if we do that
from a place of love, with hearts full of compassion, if we practice openness
and hospitality, we do not lose – but gain through.
We are called to be
not so much gatekeepers as inn keepers.
Not keeping folks
out but drawing people in.
Welcoming people
who may not be used to our rituals, whose hands may not be as clean as we’d like but who,
along with us, God calls beloved children.
3 comments:
I couldn't agree more. Love the innkeeper vs gatekeeper and the relevance to today.
I do find myself frustrated with the constant "throw the baby out with the bathwater" mentality - happens a lot in my denomination. alas
anyway, powerful sermon. well done.
Amen, sister! So pleased to have Something to Stand On again! :)x Dotx
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