It is appropriate that on World Communion Sunday we focus on the first communion – the actual supper with the Lord that occurred so many years ago. It is appropriate that as we look at the history of Christianity that bring us to this celebration, we also look at the history of the Jewish people that brought the Lord to host that particular meal. For it is clear in the Scriptures that the Last Supper was a Passover meal.
We know well the story of the Passover – how Moses lead the people out of Egypt where they had been slaves. We know the story of the plagues and how the plague of death upon the firstborn was the catalyst for Pharaoh letting the people go. We know the story of how the blood of the lamb was painted on the lintels of those who were Israelites and how that was a sign to the Spirit that blew through with the plague of death to pass over those homes. But we don’t always recall the command to commemorate that event each year with the celebration of the Passover meal.
Today’s Old Testament passage tells of God’s command to continue to remember His grace and mercy in the celebration of the feast of unleavened bread. Remember is a synonym for the word commemorate. In this command, God is instructing the Israelites to remember, or, in words more familiar to us, to do this in remembrance of Him. God instituted a meal in which His children were instructed to remember Him. It was a special meal, a week of them, actually, that called for remembrance. It was a special type of food that was called for, a special type of preparation that was needed. It wasn’t just, “Hey, think about me when you eat and drink and remember to be grateful for what I’ve done for you.” It was a ritualized event with particular instructions. No yeast in the bread – easy enough. No yeast in the house – a little more challenging. It’s not like the people of Israel went to Stop N Shop an bought little foil packages of Fleishman’s or Red Star active dry yeast. It’s not like they could just put the bread machine in the garage or avoid the tubes of Pillsbury cinnamon rolls for a while. They couldn’t just buy boxes of Matzoh (on sale, no less) and skip the Thomas’s muffins that week. No yeast meant none – and yeast was part of daily life. Yeast was in the dirt in the floors of their homes – dirt floors. To make sure all the yeast was gone from the home took serious preparation and to keep it out for a week required effort, as well. The Feast of Unleavened Bread was a big deal. It would not and could not really be done regularly. But when the Passover meal took place, when that festival came around each year, the people remembered – and still do – literally as if the events of the Passover happened only yesterday. I’ve shared with you before that the Jewish people do not talk about the time when their ancestors were freed from slavery, but they speak of when “we” were slaves in Egypt. It is an infrequent event, but one that is filled with meaning and remembering.
Jesus was celebrating this Passover meal with His disciples at the Last Supper. It was the last time He would eat with them in before His death. They would have observed the ritual preparations, the ritual parts of the meal, the requisite foods of the feast. And it would have been a special occasion, especially in Jerusalem.
But Jesus didn’t leave it at that. Jesus took bread, in this case unleavened bread, and He broke it and gave it to the disciples saying it was His body, broken for them. He urged them to remember Him when they ate bread, a staple at every meal in those days. Then Jesus gave them wine, another staple at each meal. He told them the wine was the New Covenant in His own blood, and that they were to remember Him when they drank of it. He was not specifying that they remember Him only once a year with a special feast, but every time they ate bread or drank wine – things that everyone could afford, common elements of every meal. This meal was not only for those who were in good standing in their church or synagogue. It was for everyone, Jew and Gentile, who believed in Him and remembered Him. Jesus extended grace and mercy to all who participated in the New Covenant. His blood was shed for all sinners that they might be forgiven without complicated ritual, but simply by asking.
And if you’re in doubt about the extension of grace and mercy to all, remember that Judas was present and participating in the Last Supper. Scripture tells us Jesus said, “But the hand of him who is going to betray me is with mine on the table.” Even the one who was to set in motion the end of Jesus’ earthly life was included in the mercy and grace of our Lord. Forget having yeast in the house, Judas betrayed our Lord, delivering Him into the hands of the authorities. Isn’t that a little worse than yeast in the house at Passover? Yet Jesus did not deny Judas the opportunity to sit at table with Him, to break bread and share in the feast of the New Covenant. Jesus even highlighted that Judas was there and was going to betray Him.
So what does that say to us today? When we come to this table, do we really believe everyone is as worthy of God’s love and forgiveness as we are? Or do we feel we have a right to judge others as unworthy, as if there were yeast in their homes for the Feast of Unleavened Bread and they should be cut off from the community of believers? Scripture is clear – the meal is for all. Judas had his hand on the same table as our Lord. He ate of the bread and drank of the cup. He was offered the same grace and mercy as we are.
That’s hard to really think about sometimes. We want to have justice our own way. Bad people should be punished and we think we know whether or not we’ll see certain folks in heaven. We don’t talk about it, but in our hearts don’t we think we know who we’ll see and who will be someplace far warmer than we hope to go? Don’t we think we have a right to this meal because we are good and come to church – well, most of the time, anyway. Don’t we think that those who are out there breaking laws and committing crimes don’t deserve to share in communion with us? We say the table is open to all who believe, but do we really welcome sinners?
As I serve on a jury of late, I think about these things. I realize that I have been tasked with the responsibility of judging the facts of the case, and that the outcome of the case is dependent upon the attorneys proving or disproving what the defendant has or has not done. I recognize that my job as a juror is to judge the evidence, not the person. And I take that seriously. But I also know that we are called upon to visit people in prison, even if they are in prison justifiably. We are still called upon to reach out to them, to share the faith with them, to pray for the salvation of their souls and even, as hard as it is for us to understand, to break bread in communion with them. Now that is different from accepting what they may have done. Jesus did not ever say that Judas’s betrayal was acceptable and he shouldn’t be punished, but neither did He bar Judas from sharing in communion, from not only eating with Him but having Judas’s hand on the very table at which He instituted the sacrament of communion. When you stop and think about it, it can be very unsettling. We might well be called to sit at table with those who have committed crimes against us.
This point was driven home to me in a tangible way last weekend at the Presbytery Visioning Retreat. (Yes, I know, I was on vacation, but I went anyway.) One of the workshops was lead by Kymberly Clemmons-Jones, the pastor of Valley Stream Presbyterian Church. She and her husband have two boys, teenagers. One day, on his way home from school, one of their boys was jumped. He was beaten badly with a brick and spent significant time in the hospital. The young man’s father reacted the way we might all feel like doing – he had a great desire to go out, find the five young men who had beaten his son, and teach them a lesson they’d not soon forget. It is a natural reaction to want to take justice into our own hands. But that brave father did not do that. He lived out his Christian beliefs and practiced self-control, one of the gifts of the Holy Spirit. It wasn’t easy, but he did it.
The boy’s mother went even further than self-control. As she prayed, she kept sensing the word “wanted.” She wasn’t sure what it amounted to at first, but in time she came to the conclusion that she was called to set up a program for young men called WANTED. She felt called by God to use this experience to make something positive happen in the lives of the local youth. She created a program in which young men would learn that they are worthy, accountable, named, thankful, empowered, and determined – wanted. Kym knew that too often the young men in her area are wanted by police, wanted by other authorities, but she knew that they needed to feel wanted in a different way. The first class was a resounding success, despite overwhelming odds against it in terms of finance and even culture. The program continues and she is hoping it will spread.
In creating this program, Kym had one very large personal hurdle to overcome. The boys who beat her son were never apprehended. There was and is a very real possibility that they might one day become part of this wanted program, and Kym would never know it because her family does not know who committed this crime. There is a very real possibility that she will one day be literally breaking bread with these young men, despite their connection with the beating that prompted the formation of the program. Kym and her husband both went into this with their eyes open. They knew the possibility existed and know it still exists. But they chose to serve a greater good. They chose, in Christlike fashion, to be open to the possibility that at some point the hand that once wielded a brick against their son would be on the same table as their own. And they trusted God to have His own justice met, His own grace and mercy extended.
It isn’t easy, but that is what we are all called to do. We are to accept justice, but also to accept that God’s grace and mercy are great enough for all, even those who offend us, hurt us, damage our property or commit crimes. We are not called to prevent justice from being done, but neither are we to condemn the people who are punished for their crimes. We are to remember that all of God’s children, those like us and those so different from us we barely recognize their humanity, are all deserving of being wanted - Worthy, Accountable, Named, Thankful, Empowered and Determined! All of God’s children have a place at the table if they are willing to come and share in His forgiveness and mercy. Any child of God may have his hand on the table and share in the meal, for Christ’s atoning sacrifice is sufficient to cover the sins of all who believe.
We all come as invited guests at the Lord’s own invitation. We have no more right than the most miserable sinner in prison, and no less right than the most righteous saint in heaven, for the invitation and the table and the meal and the covenant and the family all belong to God. And along with everyone else, His hand is on the table. And amen.