IN REMEMBRANCE OF ME Exodus 13:1-8, 14; Psalm 136:1-4, 10-16; Luke 22:14-20 Rev. Dr. Louise Barger May 7, 2017

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1 IN REMEMBRANCE OF ME Exodus 13:1-8, 14; Psalm 136:1-4, 10-16; Luke 22:14-20 Rev. Dr. Louise Barger May 7, 2017 Every first Sunday of the month and at other times in the Christian year we gather at the Lord's Table, the Communion Table, and one of the pastors will include in the words of institution for the bread and the cup the words, "Do this in remembrance of Me." Today we will gather at the Table of the Lord to celebrate Communion with our Lord and with one another. Today those words, "Do this in remembrance of Me" will surely be said. So as we come to remember, what is it that we ought to remember? What was Jesus asking us to call to mind? Was it some grand theme beginning with creation until He comes again? Was it something just about Jesus? Was it more personal about our relationship with Jesus? Maybe none of those things? Maybe all of those things? The table on which a meal is placed, no matter what the food, always holds a special significance, a special meaning. When our children were at home I never knew how many additional people, other teenagers, would be at the dinner table. Of course, much of that depended upon what was being prepared for dinner. But anyone who wished to eat was always welcome. They were invited to come to the table. It is around the family table that some of the most significant relationships can happen. It is more than a social experience, although it is that. It is intended to be a place of belonging,

2 a place of acceptance, a place of love. One of the ways through which I learned about my heritage and about my family was sitting at the dinner table. As we shared our meal we also shared conversation. In those conversations were woven the strands of family values and family beliefs. We remembered events that were both happy and sad. We talked about how a family, our family, would respond in times of crisis and in times of celebration. We talked about God and how God had been with us and had cared for us and had given us peace within ourselves during the good times and the difficult times. Now we have grown older and the family members are scattered, but when we come together the table is still a place of meeting. It is at the table that we once again share our stories and our remembrances. God knew the importance of telling stories -- the stories of how God had brought the people out of one land and into another, out of slavery and into freedom, out of being "nobodies" in a strange land into being "somebodies" in the Land of Promise. God knew that unless the stories were told, the reality of God's presence among the people and God's care for them would fade as the generations passed. And so the Passover meal was commanded by God, a meal to call to memory the night when the angel of death passed over the homes of the Hebrews when he saw the blood of the sacrificial lamb on the door posts and the lentils. The Passover meal is not just a meal; it is a recounting of all of those events leading up to the flight from Egypt. A Passover meal may go on for hours as the stories are told.

3 It was that meal of remembrance that Jesus celebrated with his disciples on the night that He was betrayed into the hands of the Roman authorities. It was that unleavened bread that He broke and gave to his disciples that represented what would happen to his body. It was that last cup of wine that He gave to them as a visual example of what was about to be done for them and for all who would follow. On a day recorded in eternity, God had looked down upon humankind and God had seen them scattered over the face of the earth. God must have observed that some were trying their best to follow God, to keep all of the Law; some just tried to do their best living with even knowing who God is. And God said, "It's time!" And Jesus was born; born for the purpose of making it possible for everyone to sit at God's table; for everyone who would follow Him to be a part of God's family. What gift! What grace! A gift of grace that erased all lines between social standings, between men and women, between straight and LGBT, between ethnic groups, between cultures. Grace that is difficult to comprehend. Even those who were closest to Jesus found it difficult to believe that salvation was being offered to folks who weren't like them. Could a Roman soldier named Cornelius be invited to God's table? Could a Greek over in Macedonia be equal to a Christian of Jewish heritage?

4 Could a jailer who had guarded you in prison find salvation? YES! YES! YES! God's grace, freely given to all, is beyond our comprehension. It is only ours to accept. In Christ the barriers, the walls, have come down! Through his death, everyone is invited into the family. Sometimes our customs and our traditions become more important than theology. Sometimes we build walls rather than bridges. Sometimes we need a reminder that indeed God does love all the little children, and all the adults, of this world (not just folk like ME). Have you ever noticed that there can be a great gulf between theory and reality; between what we say and how we really think about things? Piaget, a noted learning theorist, especially in the area of childhood education, had spent his professional life being an expert on children. He could talk about them; He could teach about them; He could explain them. One day he found it necessary to build a new driveway at his home. As he was putting the finishing touches on his new driveway, smoothing out every rough spot, he turned to look behind him, only to see his neighbor's child standing ankle deep in the freshly laid cement. At that point, Piaget discovered that he liked children more in the abstract than he did in the concrete. It is often easier to talk about our faith and God loving everybody than it is to believe it when we see it in action. The Table reminds us of that God doesn't love us in the abstract. God loves us unconditionally in reality. As the Psalmist reminds us God's "lovingkindness is everlasting."

5 So back to those questions? What is it that Jesus was telling his disciples and telling us to remember when we come to the Table of our Lord? As you sit at the Table on this fourth Sunday of Easter and the Deacons, on behalf of Jesus, bring you the bread and the cup, could it be that your mind is flooded with the memories of that sweet baby in the manger; those Magi who found their true King; that little boy and his parents who became refugees in a strange land; Jesus confounding the scholars in the Temple with his questions about the Torah; A baptism when Jesus heard God say, "This is my Son, in whom I am well pleased"; A time of teaching and healing and challenging tradition when it conflicted with the law of love; Those last moments with his disciples around that table in the upper room when He knew what lay before Him; Those words to his disciples, "This bread represents my body which will be broken for you; this cup represents my blood which will be shed for you to give you a new covenant of salvation." Perhaps all this to bring us to remember how costly it was for God to provide grace and salvation freely to us. A missionary to Brazil tells the story of walking down the street. Behind him he felt the insistent tapping on his hand. It was a little street boy who had come up behind him and was asking for a piece of bread. He invited the boy to go with him into the nearest sandwich shop and while he only had coffee he told the waiter to allow the boy to choose whatever he wanted. Afterwards the little one said to the missionary "Obrigado" (Thank you!). "Muito obrigado" (Thank you very much).

6 The moment was overwhelming for him. The thought occurred to him, "If he was so moved by a street orphan who says thank you for a piece of bread, how much more is God moved when I pause to thank God - really thank God - the Bread of Life, for saving my soul. Amen.