Posts
Luke
6:20-31
20 Then he looked up at his disciples and said:
"Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of
God.
21 "Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be
filled.
"Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.
22 "Blessed are you when people hate you,
and when they exclude you, revile
you,
and defame you on account of the
Son of Man.
23 Rejoice in that day and leap for joy,
for surely your reward is great in
heaven;
for that is what their ancestors
did to the prophets.
24 "But woe to you who are rich, for you have received your
consolation.
25 "Woe to you who are full now, for you will be hungry.
"Woe to you who are laughing now, for you will mourn and
weep.
26 "Woe to you when all speak well of you,
for that is what their ancestors did to the
false prophets.
27 "But I say to you that listen,
Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you,
28 bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.
29 If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also;
and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your
shirt.
30 Give to everyone who begs from you;
and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again.
31 Do to others as you would have them do to you.
What do you call a group of saints?
What do you call a group of lions? (A pride of lions.)
What do you call a group of geese? (A gaggle of geese.)
What do you call a group of gnats? (A cloud of gnats.)
Around the 15th century, the English language evolved
to include these charming collective nouns that described various groups. Some groups of animals were named according how
humans used them (a yoke of oxen, a team of horses). Some of the groups were
named for their characteristics (a brood of hens, a thunder of hippopotamus, a
leap of leopards). These nouns have extended to groups of people too:
What do you call a group of directors of an organization? A
board. (Named for what they called the table where council was being held.)
What do you call a group of barbers? A babble. (with my utmost respect to any barbers in the
room, take that for what you will!) Or how about a group of musicians? A
band. (originally musical groups
were affiliated with the military which wore a band of cloth on their arms to
identify themselves: a band of soldiers, a band of musicians…)
So today is All Saints Sunday.
So here’s one more for you: What do you call a group of saints?
…A communion.
The phrase “communion of saints” first turned up around the 5th
century in a version of our oldest creed, the Apostle’s creed: I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy
catholic church (the word “catholic” meaning universal in this case, remember
the eastern/western churches wouldn’t split into Roman Catholic and orthodox for
another 500 years) but that aside…
I believe in the Holy Spirit
The holy catholic church
The communion of saints
The forgiveness of sins
The resurrection of the body
The life everlasting
A communion of saints. The word communion in our Christian
tradition also known as “koinonia” refers to the spiritual practice of
community. We talk about it a lot here at LMC and we hold it as a center point
in our ritual with the celebration of Holy Communion each week.
When I was a little girl at Grace Lutheran Church in Springfield,
IL, when we celebrated communion at church, I would go up with my family and kneel
at the communion rail on these plush red velvet cushions. And I’d wait there
for the pastor and communion assistants to hand out bread and blessings and tiny
cups of juice. The communion rail at
Grace was this curved semicircle in front of the alter table. It was many years later when I learned that
these curved communion rails around the front of an altar were thought to be
completed by this invisible second semi-circle around the back of the table
where All The Saints that had gone before us also communed with us. So
in this sense, the communion table, I learned, is this big, wide, crowded table
full of saints and sinners and ancestors and decedents, angels and archangels
and cherubim and seraphim, and also all of those names that we just read
earlier, together with all of us—all crowded together around the table with our
with our stories and joys, and struggles and griefs, gathered around God’s
table.
It is a beautiful image: that crowded table full of all us
jostling to see and share and listen. If
only the practice of communing together were so simple. The way we’re often used to doing it in daily
life is to take a side and defend it, to lay our compassion and gentleness at
the door. Let me tell you that I can
draw my sword so fast, I barely know what hit me. I love my tribe. And they look a lot like me.
There’s an episcopal church in San Francisco (St. Gregory of Nyssa)
that has a gorgeous
piece of art that wraps around the rotunda of sanctuary. It was completed by the iconographer Mark
Dukes about ten years ago. At the
middle, there’s this dancing Jesus and all around him there’s all these
saints—some of the saints are predictable: You’ve got your King David, and St. Theresa
of Avalon, and St. Francis of Assisi. And
then, they have some edgier, modern saints up there too. There are saints that some of us will embrace,
and saints that others of us will wrestle with: There’s Malcom X, Anne Frank,
and Margaret Mead to name a few.
There are certainly a few saints up on that rotunda that are not
part of my tribe (both ancient and new saints).
But we’re not a tribe of saints, we’re a communion of
saints. And there’s something about being a communion that isn’t quite in step
with every day culture. Think about it: In the communion, we’re called to compassion
and justice—not because it’s will earn us a ticket into heaven (as pastor Kevin
pointed out last week for us) but because compassion and justice are characteristics
of Jesus.
As today’s reading reminds us: We are called to love our enemies,
to do good to those who hate us,
to bless those who curse us, to give not just our coat but also
our shirt, (this is crazy talk!). But we do this, we strive to do this because it’s
characteristic of Jesus. And it is
transformative work.
These are characteristics of the communion of saints—or perhaps
better said, these are characteristics that we deeply and intentionally work
towards. And worship plays a part in forming us into the communion of saints that
we aspire to be.
We come to worship for a lot of reasons. But there’s one I want to
mention this morning. One reason we come is because here, we practice how to
live outside of the church’s walls. When
we share the peace in worship: we shake hands.
We share peace. We hug. We practice reconciliation. And that is what we
need to be doing outside these walls. It
continues: In worship, we confess our sin and our imperfection together. Again,
that is what we need to be doing outside of worship: talking about our vulnerabilities
and challenges in our daily lives. There’s
one more way we practice for daily life here in worship: We eat at the table
together as the communion of saints. Because—let’s be honest--usually, we’re
going to hand pick who is at our dinner table and wouldn’t normally eat with
the whole awkward, hodge-podge of us gathered here on a Sunday morning. But we’re
called to it.
This communion of saints, this call to community (all of us here
in relationship together), by the power of the Holy Spirit, it has power to
turn the world upside down. And while the communion of saints is so much more than
our little congregation, we practice the communion of saints here as Luther
Memorial.
We are a communion of SAINTS being knit together, red, blue,
green, sparkly gold.
We are school children, and non-profit workers,
lawyers and health care professionals,
artists and businesspeople,
we are factory workers and retired folks.
We are babysitters and care-takers,
we are hockey dads and political activists,
public school teachers and sales people,
we are anxious and overworked,
we are addicted,
we are straight-shooters and hopeful,
and shy, uncomfortable in our own skin,
we are grieving and heartbroken.
we are gender-fluid and task oriented and courageous.
We are stressed out.
We are fearful and people pleasers.
We are visionaries.
We are liberated.
We are people who do life together.
We are blessed.
We are the church.
And each week, we come together as a communion of saints.
And sometimes the boiler is a little crazy and it’s 85 degrees in
here and sometimes, it’s 55 degrees.
And sometimes, communion itself is clumsy and a little wine gets
spilled.
And sometimes we mess up the words.
And sometimes we’re comforted
And sometimes we’re angry.
And sometimes, we cry during a baptism or a funeral or a hymn.
Because we are a communion of saints, and that is what it means to
do life together.
All of us crowd around this communion table in the name of Jesus
Christ who sets us free and promises us life everlasting in him; and we do our
best to follow him, sometimes failing, sometimes succeeding.
Sometimes we have no idea where the hand of God is in our
lives right now
but we show up
and admit we’re lost or tired or broken
and get down on our knees
and strive to understand one another
and grow into God’s call on our lives.
This banquet here is just a preview of the banquet table which is
prepared for us in the reign of God. So, come to the table together with angels
and archangels, sinners, saints, cynics, seekers,
burdened and healed, “surrounded by such
great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside
every weight and the sin that clings so closely and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before
us (Heb 12:1).”
Come to the table.
A pride of lions
A gaggle of geese
A communion of saints.
Blessed be the journey.
