Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Pentecost Reflection


May 24th, 2015         “Pentecost Reflection”     Rev. Heather Jepsen
Acts 2:1-21 and Ezekiel 37:1-14
          A long time ago something really wonderful happened.  Some days I feel like that is the only story we tell.  A long time ago our pews were full.  A long time ago we didn’t have to worry about money.  A long time ago we had a huge Session and people were lining up for their chance at leadership in the church.  A long time ago our youth group was really crowded with wonderful kids.  A long time ago this church was great.
          We tell that story in our own lives too.  A long time ago I was happy.  A long time ago I was young and care free.  A long time ago I didn’t have to worry about money.  A long time ago life was easy.  A long time ago people didn’t treat each other the way they do today.  A long time ago life was great.
          Most of the stories I stand up here and tell on Sunday mornings also happened a long time ago.  A long time ago God created the Earth and called it good.  A long time ago God redeemed the people of Israel and brought them out of bondage.  A long time ago a baby was born who was filled with promise and hope.  A long time ago God walked among us and taught us how to be better people.  A long time ago Jesus died because he loved us so much, and then he rose again to give us healing and hope.  A long time ago God did amazing things in our world.
          Today is Pentecost, and the story we tell today is another one of those “a long time ago” stories.  A long time ago some people were gathered together in a crowded room.  They were scared and sad.  Jesus had died, but then he came back to be with them, but then he left again.  And they didn’t know what to do.  And they didn’t know how to be the movement without their leader.  And so the people sat around waiting. 
A long time ago, a fire came upon them and the wind blew through them and they were filled with confidence and courage, with hope and strength.  They were anointed with power and Peter stood up and preached about how this would happen for everyone; for women and men, for children and old people, for friends and strangers.  A long time ago the church was born, and it is a beautiful story.
          And so today, we celebrate that story.  We sing songs about the Spirit and we wave our streamers in joy, and we hope that we can capture a small bit of what happened a long time ago.  We hope that we can grab a sliver of those days when the church was full, when life was easy, and when God was an undeniable force in our world.  We might not make it to what we seek, but we can certainly give it our best shot today.  We can try to reach the joy of a long time ago.
          In an odd twist of fate, the lectionary pairs this reading with the dry bones of Ezekiel.  I was really drawn to Ezekiel’s story this week, because it spoke to me about what the church needs, and perhaps what we need in our own lives.  Especially when we seem to be surrounded by “a long time ago”s. 
Ezekiel is dropped in the midst of a valley of dry bones.  God asks him, “Can these bones live?” and I love Ezekiel’s answer of “God, you tell me!”  Sometimes as a pastor I feel like I have been dropped in a valley of dry bones.  I am surrounded by stories of what once was.  This church is not as prosperous as it used to be, and the story is echoed up the ranks from the Presbytery to the denomination as a whole.  Dry bones. 
And I am surrounded by the pain in people’s lives.  From the ravages of cancer, to the heartache of raising children, to the realities of financial calamity, to the struggles of sustaining a marriage.  Dry bones.  And God says to me, “Heather, can these dry bones live?”  And I say “O Lord, you tell me.”
Ezekiel calls on the wind, he calls on the Spirit of the Lord.  “Ruah” the word that has been used from the beginning; the Spirit that moves over the waters of creation, and the breath that brings life to the first man.  Ezekiel calls and the winds of the Spirit blow, the dry bones are revived, and they regain sinew and flesh, they regain the breath of life.  A long time ago these dry bones were the epitome of death itself, and now . . . now they live.
God makes the metaphor clear by telling Ezekiel the message he is supposed to preach.  These dry bones are the house of Israel.  These dry bones are the church and the people of God.  God will bring the people back from death, fill them with the Spirit, and give them new life.  Dry bones are nothing when compared to the power and promise of our Lord.
As I stand in this valley of dry bones today and I think of the story of Ezekiel and of the story of Pentecost, I can feel that glimmer of hope.  I can feel that desire, that call, for the spirit to blow among us again.  I can feel my hair stir in the breeze, as the breath of life flows through me, and through this place.  I can feel the fire.  I can feel the promise.
It is not easy to tell the truth.  And the truth is that there are some pretty dry bones here.  But there is also new life.  While we may not be in a time of our lives where we are filled with fire and where we are being born anew, this is a time when God is present.  There is a flicker of hope in this church, for doing new things, for being a force in the world for good.  From traveling to Malawi, to raising money for Nepal, to raucous discussions in adult Sunday school class, there is an ember burning here.  There is a fire waiting to get started, and soon breath will return to these dry bones. 
And while some of us are in a place of nothing but death.  Others of us are coming back out of that valley of shadows.  The sun is beginning to shine again in our lives and even the simplist thing, like the song of the cardinal, reminds us that God is with us.  That God loves us.  A flicker of hope, a flame of life, and soon breath will return to these dry bones. 
While some days are harder than others, we tell these stories of “a long time ago” to remind us of who we are.  To remind us of the work of God.  “A long time ago” isn’t just about lamenting over the loss of the good old days, it is also about remembering the power of God in our lives.  I am sure this church was dry bones, before it was full pews.  The life of the church is cyclical.  So too, our own lives move in and out of dry bones and living flame. 
Today as we remember the Pentecost, as we remember what happened a long time ago, we also tell the story of dry bones.  The house of Israel was nothing but death, and God brought it back to life.  The early Jesus movement, was nothing but failure, and God brought it to success.  In our own lives of dust and dry bones, today we grasp that tiny ember of hope.  Today we remember the promise and power of God.  These dry bones can live.  And someday, people will tell “a long time ago” stories about us.  And about how God changed the world through our lives, and the through the fire and spirit of this church.  May it be so.  Amen.

Monday, May 18, 2015

A Roll of the Dice


May 17th, 2015        “A Roll of the Dice”       Rev. Heather Jepsen
Acts 1:15-17, 21-26
          You know, I’ve always wondered if the disciples were Presbyterians and I think today’s scripture passage proves that they were!  Today we have jumped back in time from last week’s reading and find ourselves at the very beginning of the book of Acts.  While this may seem like a strange passage for a Sunday morning scripture reading, the lectionary committee probably chose it because it happens between two main events.  Today’s reading occurs between the ascension of Christ, which happened last Thursday in the church calendar year (you probably missed it!), and the moment of Pentecost, which we will celebrate next week (wear red).
          The story goes like this.  After his death and resurrection, Jesus was with the disciples for 40 days.  Throughout that time he was with them in Jerusalem, teaching them about the kingdom of God.  When the 40 days were up, the risen Jesus was bodily lifted up into the heavens, which the church has come to call the ascension.  But, before he left, Jesus told the disciples they had to stay in Jerusalem because something else really cool was going to happen soon. 
          So Jesus is gone and the disciples are told to wait, and what do they decide to do?  Why, they form a committee and nominate an elder for Session!  See, Presbyterians!  The eleven remaining disciples and the community of followers, which the author of Acts tells us number around 120 people, are all sitting around waiting for something cool to happen.  And since they have the time, they decide to get down to some committee business. 
With the death of Judas, the group of Apostles number 11 and that just doesn’t seem right.  So, they decide to place someone in that 12th spot, so they will be back to lucky number 12, like the 12 tribes of Israel, in time for whatever cool party Jesus has planned for later.  Peter, the default leader, first lays out the qualifications for office.  The person nominated has to have been with the movement from the very beginning; they are looking for someone who witnessed Jesus’ baptism in the river Jordan all the way up to his death and resurrection.  The group gathers together to discern who among them is worthy of nomination and two names are presented; Joseph Barsabbas (who his friends call Justus for short) and a fellow named Matthias.
          The two men come forward for nomination and then the committee prays over the two men saying “Lord, you know all hearts.  Show us which of these men you have chosen to take Judas’ place as apostle.”  It’s a beautiful moment of Presbyterian decency and good order.  Right up to the end, when the roll the dice.  Yep, that’s what they do.  The group casts lots, and Matthias wins, and he is the new apostle.
            I love this reading because it is so real and so irreverent at the same time, and that totally sums of my experience of church.  So much of what we do at church is found in this reading (and it’s so Presbyterian).  First of all, a lot of church is waiting around for something to happen.  In our faith lives, and in the life of the body of faith, we have these really cool inspirational moments.  Like when the sermon is totally awesome and we are all feeling it together, or like at communion last week when we were all smiling and thinking about moms and friendship and the joy of gathering at the table, or like those times when we baptize babies.  We have awesome “up” moments.
          And then have lots of regular days.  Days where the sermon is just OK, where attendance is low, the hymns are a little off, and we’re just not feeling it.  Or how about the week days?  Church isn’t only about Sundays, there’s someone sitting around here most days of the week.  Like the disciples, we know another awesome high is coming, and so we keep hanging around diligently until it happens.  We keep looking for the Holy Spirit to come, like Jesus promised, and to change our world. 
Like the disciples, while we wait, we get busy doing the business of church.  We form committees, and we choose leaders, and we get things done.  It looks awfully silly from the outside, but all those committees and to-do lists really are good church work.  The little things we do are necessary to keep this ship afloat.  But not only that, they are a mark of faithfulness.  Not only are we waiting between one great spiritual high and the next, we are waiting in the big in-between; from the ascension of the Lord, to Jesus’ promised return.  Like the disciples, while we wait, we are faithful in our work for the church.
It’s also totally Presbyterian how the disciples pick these people.  Justus and Matthias aren’t plucked from the crowd by Peter, who is trying to load the session with his supporters.  Instead, the two are selected from among the community.  The community together discerns who among their ranks is the most qualified and possess the best gifts and talents for the ministry and they are the ones selected.
In our modern day and age, we do the same thing.  When folks start talking about having a sense that God is calling them to ordained leadership in the church, to be a pastor like me, we always look for that call to be echoed in the community.  A call to ministry has two parts, it’s in the heart of the individual and it’s in the voice of the community.  Same too, when we elect elders to Session.  I don’t pick who I want, rather a committee nominates folks for the church as a whole to vote on.
Once nominations are made, the disciples pray.  It’s so great.  The disciples are looking for God’s guidance to choose between these two men.  Then they cast lots, which is a lot like rolling the dice.  It was a really ancient practice and you can find examples of it throughout the Old Testament.  Small stones, or pieces of wood, would be thrown down on the ground and then the results were believed to be a direct message from God. 
Of course, we don’t cast lots anymore.  I think we like to tell ourselves that we are too advanced to believe that God can speak to us through the rolling of dice.  The truth probably is that it’s just not that competitive to get a seat on Session.  Seriously though, a lot of life feels like rolling the dice.  You know when we have a big decision to make we think and we pray and then we choose.  And sometimes, I think all of us wonder what would have happened if we chose something else, what would life be like if we went another way?
We honored our high school graduates last week and that’s a big time of life decisions.  Where you go to college and what you are going to study are huge choices; and they will affect the rest of your life.  I am sure all of us here remember those days, and many of you are like me.  I didn’t end up doing what I thought I was going to do.  So how do we make those choices; about where to go to school, what to be when we grow up, who to marry, what job to get, where to live?     
Well, you could always roll the dice or flip a coin, but before you do that, I recommended, taking a cue from the Bible and approaching the problem with community discernment and prayer.  Talk about those decisions with your community. God speaks to us through the voices of other people; God speaks to us in community.  Listen for what people are telling you about those decisions.  And pray about it.  Listen for God to speak to you.  As the disciples prayed, “Lord, you know everyone’s heart.”  Ask God to know your heart, and to guide you in decisions. 
And then, “Just do it!”  Take the leap, roll the dice, jump in.  Whatever path you choose is the path God ordained for you.  I believe that.  I would have to, to be in this crazy job.  We can ask all the “what ifs” in the world, but if we approach the world in discernment and prayer, we are doing the right thing.  We are on the right path.  That doesn’t mean it’s easy, but it does mean we are following where God leads us.
So what happened to those two guys?  Who knows!  Matthias goes on to be ordained as one of the 12 Apostles and is never heard from again.   Seriously, like many of the apostles he is not mentioned again in the scriptures.  I am confident he went on to live a life of faithful dedication and service to the church, he lived out his term on Session, and it didn’t make him famous.  Just like it won’t make us famous, but of course that isn’t the point.  The point is serving our Lord.  And Justus, what ever happened to him?  I’m gonna guess he’s the head of Trustees!
          Today, wherever you are in your life; just starting out on the path to adult hood, struggling through life with small children, contemplating retirement, or just settling down to enjoy the fruits of your labor, know that God is with you and that God has ordained your journey.  The presence of God with us is one of the most wonderful blessings of our creator.  We can know that presence in community, in prayer, and maybe even in a roll of the dice.  Thanks be to God!  Amen.

Monday, May 11, 2015

Let's Be Friends


May 10th, 2015                            “Let’s Be Friends”                      Rev. Heather Jepsen
John 15:9-17 with Acts 10:44-48
          Our gospel reading for this morning picks up where we left off last week.  This reading is from what scholars have come to call the final discourse, which is Jesus’ last big speech in the gospel of John.  The setting is the last supper of the gathered community.  Jesus has washed the disciples’ feet, giving them an example of service and love, and they have shared a final meal of bread and wine.  The betrayal has been predicted and Judas has left the group.  Jesus then begins a huge sermon, redefining faith and the community.
          Our reading for this morning is also the traditional reading during Thursday night of Holy Week.  In fact, we call that night “Maundy Thursday” based on this reading where Jesus gives a new commandment or mandate.  You will remember from last week that Jesus has been teaching about the disciples’ need to abide or live in him.  He gives the wonderful example of vines which bear fruit only when they are connected to the root.  As we discussed last week, the church fits into this idea as the community that abides in the root of Jesus Christ.
          In today’s reading, Jesus gives the disciples a new commandment a new mandate for a life of faith.  “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you.”  Jesus explains again that the love he shows is a self-sacrificing love, a love that puts the needs of others first.  Jesus goes on to say that the disciples are no longer to be thought of as servants or slaves, which is closer to the Greek.  Instead, Jesus is calling the disciples his friends.
          This week, I was really caught up in this idea of friendship and what it means to be friends in our world.  On Facebook I have 272 friends.  That seems like a lot.  In reality about two dozen of those people are actually my friends and about 200 of them are friendly people that I know.  Some of those people, I don’t even think I’ve ever met.  It’s easy to be friends when it simply involves clicking a “yes” button on a computer screen.
          In what I would call the real world, (the place of physical interaction, face to face discussion, handshakes, and sharing) most of us don’t have over 250 friends.  Being a friend takes a lot of work.  I have friends on Facebook that have opinions that I really don’t agree with.  It’s a lot easier to scroll past that on a computer screen than it is to actually have a face to face discussion with those people about politics, gun control, Obama, or whatever else it is that’s bugging them.  To be friends in the real world isn’t easy.
          In fact, the real world often makes it extra hard to be friends.  The world around us seeks to divide us into separate camps.  Like some sort of strange game, we are often forced to choose sides in opposition to each other.  Democrats and Republicans, Gays and Straights, Meat Eaters and Vegetarians, Pro Gun and Pro Gun Control; the divisions in our world are endless.
          Of course, I would be blind if I claimed we had no divisions in the church.  Catholics and Protestants, Methodists and Lutherans, Good ol' PCUSA and Cumberland Presbyterian; there are plenty of dividing lines in our own ranks as well.  One could lament that things have really gone downhill as far as this friend thing is concerned, but I would wager it has probably always been this way.
          Take our story in Acts for example.  Peter, present in both of today’s readings, has become a leader in the early church.  He has a pretty good idea of who the friends of the church are, and that includes good Jews who are converting to the message of the new Jesus community.  Peter’s idea of church does not include Gentiles.  See, there’s that separation!
          Prior to our reading, a Gentile named Cornelius sends for Peter as he has been commanded by the Lord.  Around that same time, Peter has that crazy vision of the sheet.  You might remember the story.  Peter is sleeping up on a roof when the Lord grants him a vision of a sheet laden with all the unclean foods and God tells Peter to eat what Peter has been taught his whole life not to eat.  And we have this great line, “What God has made clean, you must not call profane.”
          Peter travels on and runs into the Gentile Cornelius.  Jews were not supposed to associate with Gentiles but Peter is able to make the connection that just as the food is no longer unclean, perhaps the Gentile people are no longer unclean.  Peter visits Cornelius’ house and while Peter is sermonizing the Holy Spirit interrupts and everyone there starts praising God in their own native languages.
          Those of the old way of thinking, the circumcised believers in Peter’s posse, can’t believe that God would give the Holy Spirit to outsiders.  But Peter had an inkling this might happen and he suddenly calls for all of the people to be baptized right away, without the usual pre-baptismal work of circumcision and confession of faith.  Peter baptizes all the people that are there, he includes the outsider Gentiles into the insider Jewish community.  And in the best part, the Cornelius and the other Gentiles invite Peter to stay with them in their home for several days.  In inviting Peter to stay in their home, Cornelius and his community are inviting Peter to be friends.  I would imagine Peter’s response would be similar to that of Jesus, “I do not call you outsiders any longer, but I have called you friends.”  It’s a wonderful story.
I think these two readings have a lot to say about friendship in our own world today.  I believe that this church community was created to be a community of friends.  Within the community we are called to be friends with each other.  Like our reading from last week, we are all together woven into the body of faith. 
          I read a great quote this week from preacher Tanya Barnett who says “Individualism values our unique, God-given blessedness and gifts.  Individualism can also exaggerate our sense of self-importance to the point that we are cut off from the knowledge that everything God creates, sustains, and redeems is sacred.”  Like the image of the vine, the church is a place where we are unique branches and yet we are connected in the faith.  We can celebrate our gifts as individuals, but in a culture which places an overemphasis on individualism, the church can be a wonderful reminder of the gift of connectedness.  I cannot be a friend if I remain alone, I can only be a friend when I am connected to others in community.
          The unity of the church is a witness to the love of God in a world that is broken and divided.  As such, the church community is called not only to embrace friendship within its ranks, but to be a friend to the world as well.  This community of faith strives to be a friend to the world.  From my preaching on justice at the MLK service to my voice in the community for Medicaid expansion, I have been representing this community of friends as a friend to those in need in our world.  From our support of the Food Center, to our renewed commitment to the Hunger Takes No Vacation project, we are a friend to the world and to those in need in our community.  In our trips to Malawi, we are a friend to the world as we seek to share genuine friendship with those in need who live far away.
          Along this line of thinking, the Mission committee has suggested that we take up a special offering for the people of Nepal.  Our denomination is already working in a hands on way in that community through Presbyterian Disaster Assistance.  While we may not be in a position to physically go and offer help, we are in a position to support their ministry as a friend of the world.  The mission committee has pledged $750 to Presbyterian Disaster Assistance work in Nepal and we will be passing the offering plate at a special time next Sunday so that each of us have an opportunity to share in that blessing.  This is a chance for you to be a friend of the world.
          Today we are gathering at the communion table and we spoke last week about the uniting image this table gives us.  When we gather here, we gather as equals and we gather as friends.  Just as Jesus dined with those he called friends, we remember him as we dine together as friends.  We eat the same bread, we drink the same cup, and we serve each other, a community of friends.  And as we learned in our reading from Acts, here at the table everyone is welcome.  Visitors, guests, people from other churches, people with only a budding curiosity of faith, children, the elderly, those that are ill, and those that are strangers; all are welcomed to this table as friends.
          And so the message today is “Let’s be friends.”  Not just Facebook friends where I can “like” what you are doing or simply ignore you; but real friends where we share our lives together, and where we support one another with love.  And let this community of friendship be a friend to the world.  May we speak up for the needs of those that live down the street and those that live across the globe, and may we do all that we can to live into the friendship that Jesus calls us to.   Let us remember that our God is one who no longer calls us slaves, but calls us friends.  Amen.

Monday, May 4, 2015

Organic Unity


May 3rd, 2015                              “Organic Unity”                          Rev. Heather Jepsen

John 15:1-8

          Our reading this morning presents us with some very familiar imagery.  Jesus’ lesson that he is the vine and we are the branches is one of the most beloved metaphors of our faith.  For some of us, last week’s image of Jesus as a shepherd is pretty foreign to our actual experience.  Lucky for us, this week’s image is much closer to our everyday lives.  Here in Warrensburg we are not far removed from the world of agriculture.  Many of us have gardens and many of us have witnessed working farms as we drive down highway 50.  Most of us have even seen grape vines in the field and so we can easily draw up an image in our minds of the vine and branches that Jesus is referring to.

          As always, it is important to note the context of our reading.  This passage from John is taken out of a greater speech that Jesus gives to his disciples.  This is his farewell address, a final word to them before he faces his death on the cross.  Jesus is preparing his followers for their life without him, and as such his words are helpful to us, the later generations who have never known Jesus in person.

          The image that Jesus presents of the vine and branches is one that would have been familiar to his disciples.  Like many of us, they were familiar with the gardening practices of pruning and harvest.  In addition, this would not have been the first time they were presented with the vine as a metaphor.  The Old Testament is rich with imagery describing Israel as the Lord’s special vine or vineyard.  In Isaiah we read that “the vineyard of the Lord of hosts is the house of Israel, and the people of Judah are his pleasant planting.”  The prophet Isaiah pleads with the people of Israel to produce grapes pleasing to the Lord or else to face removal of the vine altogether.

          There are a lot of potential sermons in this passage about the vine and the branches and I am certain that you have heard many of them.  There are sermons about bearing fruit, sermons about abiding in Christ, and of course there are sermons about the values of pruning.  This morning, I want to talk about what this image says to us as a church community.

          First, the image of community that Jesus presents is centered on interrelationship.  If you picture the branches of the vine in your mind you will understand what I am thinking of.  When the vine is growing, the branches are almost completely indistinguishable from each other.  Each branch runs into the next and it is nearly impossible to determine where one branch stops and the next branch starts.  

I was at Powell Gardens last weekend and their giant wisteria by the lake is a great example of this.  When you look at that area it is very hard to determine where one plant ends and another plant begins, let alone to follow the paths of specific branches.  When examining the branches of the vine you find a whole mess of similar looking branches twisted together into a knot.  All branches run together as they grow out of the central vine.

          What Jesus is teaching is that each individual should be rooted in him, and hence they give up their individual status to become one of the many branches in the knotted vine.  The communal life of the church challenges our culture’s focus on individual autonomy.  In order to produce fruit, the church must work together as one unit.  The individual branch is subsumed into the communal work of bearing fruit and living in love.  To follow this model, the church must be a place where members are known for the acts of love that they do in common with all other members, rather than a community built around individual accomplishments.

          In addition, the vine metaphor suggests a radically non-hierarchical model for the church.  When we examine the vine and branches, no branch is more important than any other.  No branch has precedence over any other branch attached to the vine.  The only differentiation between branches is their fruitfulness.  And it is the gardener alone who decides which branches need to be pruned and which branches need to be cut out.  All branches are the same before God, and since all branches sprout from the same vine there is no place for status or rank among the branches.

          Perhaps most striking, the image of the vine and branches is challenging for the church community in that it is so stark in its call for anonymity.  So often when we think of the church we think of Paul’s image of the body of Christ in his letter to the church in Corinth.  We are all familiar with Paul’s metaphor of the church as a collection of body parts, the hand and eye each having a unique work to do.  We often think of the church as separate and differing people all working together for a common good.  Paul holds together the oneness of Christ and the diversity of gifts and members in his body metaphor.

          But in a broad reading of the Bible we can find a variety of thoughts and opinions.  When we read the gospel of John, we find a metaphor for the church that is dramatically different from Paul’s body metaphor.  The richness and variety of voices in our Scriptures is something that makes them such a powerful and timeless text.  The metaphor of the vine and branches that Jesus presents in John’s gospel undercuts any celebration of individual gifts.  This too challenges our culture’s values of personality and individualism.  If the church were to live as branches of Christ, versus the body of Christ, individual distinctiveness would give way to the common embodiment of love.  The mark of the faithful community is how it bears the fruit of love, instead of how talented each of the members are as individuals. 

          Today’s message is one of sameness rather than diversity.  Jesus presents an image to the disciples of how a community rooted in Christ would grow.  All branches would run together, each branch indistinguishable from the next.  All branches work together for the bearing of fruit.  And all branches are equal before the Lord, no branch is more important or prominent that any other branch. 

          What Jesus presents in the gospel of John is a picture of organic unity.  To live as branches of the vine of Christ is to live in a natural unity, shaped by the love of Jesus.  Together the branches, rooted in the vine, work as one organic unit to bear the fruit of Christ’s love and to share that fruit with the world around us.

          So often our culture places emphasis on who we are as individuals.  Like last week’s image, we don’t really want to be sheep in a flock; we want to be individual leaders.  We don’t want God to take care of us, we want to take care of ourselves.  This morning’s reading flies in the face of such thinking.  If we are to be part of Christ, then we should strive to be one in him.  The church community should be a place of equality and sameness, where we all work together toward a common goal.

          There are few places in our modern times to experience this sense of oneness and sameness, but one place where we can clearly understand this idea is here around the communion table.  We won’t actually celebrate until next week, but when we gather together at the table I would invite you to remember that we all come before the Lord as equals.  All are served the same bread and cup, all are given the same gift of grace and forgiveness, and all of us are reminded that Jesus died for each of us as much as he died for our neighbor.  Around the communion table our individuality disappears and we are brought together as one under the mantle of Christ’s sacrifice.  It is important to remember that the celebration at table is part of our rootedness in the great vine that is the entire Christian tradition. 

          As you go out into the world this week I invite you to ponder this idea of the vine and branches.  Take a look at the way the vine grows versus the other plants in our neighborhoods.  Jesus doesn’t teach that we are each an individual tulip bulb, sprouting into one solitary flower.  Instead he teaches that like the grape vine we are all connected, we are all the same, and that we must be rooted in Christ if we are to be the community of faith.  Amen.