Thursday, March 24, 2011

Discipleship and Interpretation of Scripture

In his essay titled "The Interpretation of Scripture: Why Discipleship is Required", Stanley Hauerwas uses the Emmaus Road narrative to illustrate our inability to understand Scripture through our own knowledge. He asserts that our subjectivity as readers causes us to read the account of these two travelers walking with a stranger, unaware that this stranger is the risen son of God. It is this same arrogance that prompts us to claim that we can also understand Scripture simply by reading it. After all, “reasonable persons are able to see the facts if their minds are not clouded.” (HR 257) Yet, he refutes these presuppositions, saying that the Emmaus Road account does not highlight our superiority to these ignorant disciples, rather it questions us in relation to our own understanding of Scripture. “Scripture will not be self-interpreting or plain in its meaning unless we have been transformed in order to be capable of reading it.”(HR 257) For, if we do not truly know and see Christ in the Word, then we too could converse with Jesus without knowing it. But what is it about Scripture that we do not truly understand?

Hauerwas believes, and I would affirm, that the core of all of Scripture is the resurrection of Christ. All of our misunderstandings begin on this level. And mainly, they come about because of our inability to see the weakness of Christ in the crucifixion, and from our unwillingness to chase after him in that same fate. He recalls a conversation between Clarence Jordan, founder of Koinonia Farms, and Robert Jordan, his brother and a lawyer with political aspirations. When asked if he would represent the integrated farm against the blatant racism committed against them by the gas company, Robert said no. Clarence then charged him with Christ’s example on the cross, and Robert responded in saying that “I follow him to the cross, but not on the cross. I’m not getting myself crucified.”(HR 258) Hauerwas makes the point that there are many in the church that would affirm the crucifixion and resurrection and admire Christ for those acts, but would not be willing to follow Christ in those acts.

This interaction between the Jordan brothers reminds me of the situation currently going on in my hometown of Bellefontaine, Ohio. Unfortunately our small town has been all over the news lately because Samuel Littleton murdered his girlfriend’s daughter in her home, then stole a car, kidnapped an elderly couple, and murdered them on his way to West Virginia to hide out with family. He dumped their bodies in Tennessee and Georgia in his efforts to elude the police. Our town has really come together over this situation and supported the families throughout the search for the bodies and the search for Samuel. During one particular prayer vigil that was broadcast, a local minister that I know prayed that God would bring his wrath down on Samuel. I was shocked. While I understand that the Mennonite Church is a peace church and it may have been unusual that we were praying for him, I was surprised to hear that a member of the clergy would publically pronounce wrath on this man, in spite of the evil he committed. I cannot begin to understand the pain that the families are going through. The mother must be experiencing extreme guilt that she dated the man who would eventually kill her daughter for thirteen years. The two children of the deceased will have to grow up knowing their mother was murdered. And the Russels, the older couple that was murdered, were supposed to live out the last of their days at peace and enjoy life and marriage, not suffer in this way. The repercussions of these events will be felt for a long time. And yet, despite my human urges for vengeance, I cannot help but know that Christ calls us to compassion. Everyone is deserving of grace, even in these circumstances. And I think about if Samuel faces trial in Ohio, will he receive the death penalty? And which churches in our area will support that? And what should my response be? I don’t want to disrespect the victims in this crime, but I don’t want to support or sit idly by if the community rallies together for this man’s death. And just like Robert Jordan, I wonder if I too will get crucified over this.

But this is the calling we receive as disciples. It is not the calling that we would choose. It is not even the calling that we would read in Scripture. Which is why Hauerwas makes the point: Scripture can only be understood in community. The two travelers were searching for a Messiah that would come in power. They could not understand the power that Jesus exemplified in weakness. Hauerwas asks “What does resurrection have to do with the liberation of Israel?” He then pointedly answers, “Resurrection is not the politics for which they had looked. So they could not see the resurrected Jesus exactly because the resurrected Jesus embodied the politics of a kingdom for which they were unprepared.”(HR 261) He then uses Isaiah 52 and 53 as proof texts for the true nature of Christ, the nature which the prophets spoke about. And yet, a majority of the Jewish people did not interpret it in this way. And so, Hauerwas concludes that the reason that the disciples did not recognize Jesus resurrected was because his post-resurrection nature came as a “stranger” to them. (HR 260) They were unprepared for the reality of the Messiah. The reality that they knew, the one that was plain before their eyes, was not who God was. There exegesis was subjective in nature because they read Scripture through the eyes of the world. So, Hauerwas posits, “in order to recognize the Messiah, this crucified and risen Jesus, we need training and instruction.”(HR 260)

Hauerwas then sets up what appears to be a modern analogy to the Emmaus Road encounter. He posits an antithetical relationship between the quest for a historical Jesus and Eucharist, in which the academic pursuit celebrates the absence of Christ and the Eucharist celebrates the presence. I struggled with this section. While I recognize the damage done in the Jesus Seminars when the sayings of Christ are subject to rocks and dissection, I cannot help but acknowledge the legitimacy in viewing Scripture through this lens. This could be my recent seminary experience speaking, but there are historic realities to the Scripture that could affect our understanding of the person of Jesus. I do appreciate that he says “the search for the historical Jesus is a substitute for the willingness to share in the life of Christ. It presumes that if we could just get the facts right we could really make up our minds about whether our life could be fully shaped by the Kingdom that is determined by this man’s life.”(HR 264) I appreciate his observations because too often in historical-critical study one is forced to decide allegiance to Christ based on evidence and fact rather than faith. However, I also believe this is subjective argument unfairly tinted by his theological stance over and against the historical-critical method. I recognize that Hauerwas likes to exaggerate to make a point (and even to rile people up), but this only goes to further the chasm that exists between the academic study of theology and the academic critical study of Scripture. It is frustrating as one who appreciates both to have to choose sides rather than to seek compromise. Not to mention that neither side is too interested in bringing their studies down to a lay level. So the average parishioner has no idea that these debates go on. And valuable theological and critical work gets lost in the general Christian population because they cannot work together nor can they condescend to help others understand. Alright, that is my soapbox, and that is all for now.

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Advent Week Four: Isaiah, Christ, and the Spiritual Power Struggle


We are in the midst of a power struggle between the world and God, between the sacred and secular. In Matthew 1:18-25, the Gospel reading for the fourth Sunday of advent, the author quotes a prophecy out of Isaiah that presents a sign to the wavering King Ahaz that God is all powerful; a child will be born, called Immanuel meaning God with us, and before he is old enough to understand right and wrong the two kingdoms that Ahaz feared would be destroyed. Many believe that though this prophecy was aimed at Isaiah’s immediate context, it also serves as a foreshadowing of Christ. What’s so striking is that in the same way that Christ’s birth accents the power struggle between God and the world, the situation in which Isaiah made the prophecy also shows the struggle between the vulnerable power of God and the macho, strutting power of the world.

Isaiah 7:10-16 (New International Version)
10 Again the LORD spoke to Ahaz, 11 “Ask the LORD your God for a sign, whether in the deepest depths or in the highest heights.”
12 But Ahaz said, “I will not ask; I will not put the LORD to the test.”
13 Then Isaiah said, “Hear now, you house of David! Is it not enough to try the patience of humans? Will you try the patience of my God also? 14 Therefore the Lord himself will give you[
a] a sign: The virgin[b] will conceive and give birth to a son, and[c] will call him Immanuel.[d] 15 He will be eating curds and honey when he knows enough to reject the wrong and choose the right, 16 for before the boy knows enough to reject the wrong and choose the right, the land of the two kings you dread will be laid waste.

Ahaz claimed that he did not want to test the Lord, yet his blatant hypocrisy proved more offensive to God than asking for a sign. He said that he wouldn’t test the Lord because he was afraid that God would not be able to produce a sign. He didn’t believe that God could protect his nation from the other nations who were bent on destroying them. Instead he decided to place his faith in another nation, and he was destroyed.
Do we sometimes face the temptation to place our faith in another power? Maybe we’re not so sure that God will come through for us? In 1 Kings, the prophet Elijah ran for his life from Jezebel because she wanted to exact retribution against him for murdering the prophets of Ba’al. While running, God appeared to Elijah and spoke to him, but it was not in a way that we would typically expect God to appear.

1 Kings 19:9-14
9 There he went into a cave and spent the night.
And the word of the LORD came to him: “What are you doing here, Elijah?”
10 He replied, “I have been very zealous for the LORD God Almighty. The Israelites have rejected your covenant, torn down your altars, and put your prophets to death with the sword. I am the only one left, and now they are trying to kill me too.”
11 The LORD said, “Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the LORD, for the LORD is about to pass by.”
Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. 12 After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. 13 When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave.
Then a voice said to him, “What are you doing here, Elijah?”

God’s voice did not come in an earthquake or a great fire; it came in a small whisper. God could have addressed Elijah in a great manner similar to the way he sent fire to light the altar, but instead God’s sign to Him came in the quiet.

God sometimes made a great show of His signs, usually in an exasperated attempt to catch the attention of an unconcerned audience. Yet, when it came to His greatest personal appearance and revealing on Earth, He chose to come in the most unlikely of figures, a child. His power was revealed in the vulnerability of a child, which ultimately is more powerful than the military might, financial prosperity, and prideful fame that world offers.

Streaming Towards Zion: Lectionary Use as a Form of Global Christian Unity



{Isaiah 2:1-5}
1 This is what Isaiah son of Amoz saw concerning Judah and Jerusalem: 2 In the last days the mountain of the LORD’s temple will be established as the highest of the mountains; it will be exalted above the hills, and all nations will stream to it. 3 Many peoples will come and say, “Come, let us go up to the mountain of the LORD, to the temple of the God of Jacob. He will teach us his ways, so that we may walk in his paths.” The law will go out from Zion, the word of the LORD from Jerusalem. 4 He will judge between the nations and will settle disputes for many peoples. They will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore. 5 Come, descendants of Jacob, let us walk in the light of the LORD .

What is a lectionary, and why should we use it? Is it something manmade that bears all of the marks and makings of the Roman Catholic Church, is it meant only for congregations who light candles and do responsive readings, and should the Mennonite Church and Anabaptist tradition even approach it?
Isaiah 2:1-5, the Old Testament lectionary reading for November 28th, sheds light on some of these questions. In the passage, Isaiah sees a vision of all nations streaming towards Zion, that mountain of the Lord. I find this verbal indicator so interesting; the nations were not “heading” nor were they “traveling” or “walking”, they were streaming. This description emphasizes constant, rapid flow and movement. It gives the visual of a massive body of people, not a small scattering. There is purpose, there is destination, and everyone is involved. Toward what end were the people streaming?
Isaiah gives us a picture of unity and solidarity in which all nations are seeking God and His teachings for our lives; this is an image that is so difficult to subscribe to these days when we are surrounded by so many divisions within the church and divisions between the church and the world.
Yet in recent years there has been a trend towards a more ecumenical movement (meaning a unified and worldwide Christian church) between congregations and denominations, including even the Catholic Church. And the Revised Common Lectionary emerged from that movement.
But before we address the Revised Common Lectionary, we have to ask, what is a lectionary? Marlene Kropf, associate professor at AMBS writes that the lectionary is “An ordered system of selected Bible readings” which “provides four texts for every Sunday over a three-year period. The four readings are drawn respectively from the Old Testament and the Psalms, the Epistles (and Revelation), and the Gospels.” She continues that “The purpose is to provide a witness to the unity of the Old and New Testaments and to proclaim the whole story of salvation. God’s plan for redemption is announced and initiated in the Old Testament and reaches its fulfillment in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Through the witness of the church, the gospel is proclaimed to all generations.” (Kropf “About the Lectionary”)
The lectionary is divided up into three years, A, B, and C, with the primary Gospel text being different in each year. Year A focuses mostly on Matthew, year B on Mark, and year C centers on Luke, with the Gospel of John being used sporadically throughout the other years, especially during holidays like Easter and Christmas. The Old Testament readings also follow a pattern along with the years, with year A exploring Israel’s early history, year B looking at Davidic texts and wisdom literature as well as Ruth, and year C delving into the prophetic literature.
The readings are specially arranged for the Church year and develop specific themes around certain times of the holiday. Advent, Christmas, Lent, Easter, and so on all have specific texts that help us to center on the Biblical event and discover our place in the continuing implications of those occasions. During the time after Pentecost and before Advent, called “Ordinary Time”, the different readings are not coordinated together, but instead are meant to be read or preached sequentially, which Dr. Horace T. Allen Jr., Co-Chair of the English Language Liturgical Consultation, which had a heavy hand in the Revised Common Lectionary, notes “is borrowed directly from the synagogue’s use of the Torah and the subsequent practice of the churches of the first several centuries.” He continues by explaining that “the public reading of the scriptures was never originally conceived simply as source texts for preaching, but rather as the only possible way (emphasis added) to acquaint the congregation with as much of the scriptures as possible.”
Nowadays, when we discuss the lectionary we may think of the Catholic or Anglican Church, not realizing that the idea of reading certain sets of scripture during certain times of year has been in existence since before the early church. However, in the second half of the last century, many Christians from numerous denominations and backgrounds worked very hard to develop an ecumenical lectionary, one that could break the boundaries of being labeled as “Catholic.” And so this cycle of Scripture can and is being used by a variety of churches, including now Oak Grove.
This year, we will be exploring scripture through the lens of the lectionary, which in some capacity serves as a present day fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecy. And there is an amazing significance to this. As Dr. Allen points out, by using the lectionary, many of the churches that separated from each other during the Reformation are now worshipping together again in spirit because they are reading from the same scripture every Sunday. And the Mennonite church, which was historically ostracized and martyred by both the Catholic Church and the Reformed Churches, now has an opportunity to offer forgiveness and join their Christian brothers and sisters across the world in hearing the Word together. And so, all nations, America and Canada, France and Korea, Germany and Brazil, can share in the Holy act of discovering Scripture together. And all Christians, Mennonite and Baptist, Lutheran and Episcopalian, Protestant and Catholic, can stream towards Zion and lay prostrate at the feet of God, praising His name and absorbing His teachings.

Monday, May 24, 2010

My first 13 hour day...

As Erin and I sit in the mission house after our incredibly long day, I cannot help but marvel at how much we've experienced so far. This weekend, the interns and Mission Indy staff along with a few others went to Camp Allendale for a retreat. Throughout the weekend, a miraculous transformation occurred in which relative strangers managed to share their lives together and overcome great obstacles. Specifically, we went through a "low ropes course" and conquered the wall, which, if you don't know, is a thirteen foot wall in which every member of the team needs to get over by using their own strength and bodies. There are no ropes, ladders, or footholds; we had to rely on the strength of one another. Erin also helped to coordinate a prayer labyrinth, in which we prayed for various components of the summer. This really helped me to regain my focus for the mission at hand. Fast forward to today, our first training day. Today was instrumental for us learning more about Mission Indy and about the plight of the inner city. There are really too many experiences to recount, but let me leave you with this. We were all assigned various businesses to go into and interview about their services. These businesses tended to be on the "shady" side, and in fact served to extort people who live here. Some in the group compared grocery prices between convenience stores and chain stores, since many residents do not drive and shop locally. Some explored the seedy underbelly of pawn shops, while others interviewed an employee at the local Rent-A-Center. Abby and I went to learn more about the check cashing/cash advance stores. If you want to really understand how shady these places are, we were turned down by two different stores before we finally went to someone who was willing to answer a few simple questions. At the first store, we were routed around a bit until we finally spoke with a lady who looked incredibly uncomfortable the entire time, continued to refer us to corporate, and eventually told us that she couldn't answer any questions. All I wanted to know was how they worked. At the second store, the guy told us he was too busy: there was nobody else there! Finally, we were able to speak to somebody, and it was somewhat revealing. The tie that bound all of these places, though, was this: each of these businesses serves to keep poor people poor. We talk so much about how everyone has an opportunity to pick themselves up and blah blah blah. Let me tell you this: you cannot pick yourself up very easily in a system designed to hold you down. If you live in a neighborhood with no jobs, no banks, no affordable grocery stores, no affordable housing or places to buy appliances, and every business that is in the area is going to charge you outrageous fees or interest or prices in order to obtain the basic necessities, and you don't have a car to go anywhere else, you are being held down by the system. You do not have the same opportunity as someone living outside of that neighborhood. And it has nothing to do with money; if money were the issue, you would just live with less. But if everyone is stealing the little money that you have, than there is a problem. I'm not saying that urban folk are innocent victims; however, I am challenging the belief that they are simply making poor choices. Rather, they are making the same poor choices that we make, but they are not given the choice or freedom to live with even the convenience of fairly cashing their checks without somebody taking a percentage.
I shall end with this thought: we speak so much of justice in this country. We believe that we should have the right to enforce our brand of justice on other nations. We believe that we should receive the utmost justice, so we sue everyone. Yet the greatest injustices are happening all around us, when we allow for legal businesses to oppress those who cannot afford or do not have the opportunity to turn elsewhere. And that is just wrong.

Friday, May 21, 2010

Not so culture-shock

So, I am back in Indianapolis. After only a few short months, I have returned, and to be honest, not much has changed. Homeless people, prostitutes, drug runners, and children without much of a future still roam the streets. I have experienced all of this before. In fact, I have done this twice now. For the past two years I have spent my spring breaks up here with Erin and some friends from Milligan experiencing the plight of the inner city and learning how to serve as Christ would have us to. And yet, I still felt a little bit of "not so culture-shock" as I entered the city. There are homeless people and drug issues in Johnson City, TN, but the liquor store/check cashing store that was still open as I cruised into the city late Wednesday night hailed a different kind of despair than what is present down south. As I consider the warning to stay inside of our house after dark, I wonder how much I really understand the fear and violence that this environment contains for the people living here every day. After all, I've never been held up at gun or knife point. I've never had my car or house broken into and my things stolen. This summer is going to be different, but its going to be good. And I pray that God opens my eyes and heart to what I believe he calls me and the church in general to do, and that is to love and serve others as ourselves, which includes the businessman and the heroine addict. I pray that I am challenged, stretched, and that I go from here and use what I have been taught.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009


I gave this homily at an Adoration Service at Hopwood Memorial Christian church on Tuesday October 27, 2009. As per the instructions, I kept it under ten minutes (though the bar was set at five, and I did exceed that), which proved to be somewhat difficult, as I seem to posess the inate ability to speak longer than I should. However, as I have realized in the last few years that a speaker can only expect so much attention from the audience (as I too possess a relatively short attention span when sitting on the other side of the pulpit), I have already been on the path towards a more succint sermon. But the challenge lies, therein, to pack those eight minutes with something meaningful while at the same time giving proper respect to the text at hand. So it it my hopes that in this I have, at least in part, accomplished some of those tasks.



Mark 10:46-52

46Then they came to Jericho And as He was leaving Jericho with His disciples and a large crowd, a blind beggar named Bartimaeus, the son of Timaeus, was sitting by the road.

47When he heard that it was Jesus the Nazarene, he began to cry out and say, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!"

48Many were sternly telling him to be quiet, but he kept crying out all the more, "Son of David, have mercy on me!"

49And Jesus stopped and said, "Call him here." So they called the blind man, saying to him, "Take courage, stand up! He is calling for you."

50Throwing aside his cloak, he jumped up and came to Jesus.

51And answering him, Jesus said, "What do you want Me to do for you?" And the blind man said to Him, "Rabboni, I want to regain my sight!"

52And Jesus said to him, "Go; your faith has made you well." Immediately he regained his sight and began following Him on the road.

(NASB taken from biblegateway.com)

When I was very young, my dad and I went and played pool in the house of a friend from church. His name is Lloyd Schneider, he was older at the time, and he was legally blind. I will not pretend that I was any good at the game; I was young, that’s my excuse. But even at that age, I could recognize great skill. I vaguely recollect that game and that day, but the one thing that I remember is that man played well. He not only played well, but he wiped the table with us. And again he was legally blind.



We place an awful lot of importance on sight as a determinative for life. In theory, two people with solid vision should be able to easily beat somebody who is legally blind in a game that relies in great part on sight. Yet, that was not the case.



In our reading today, we see a man, who, by his very physical nature, could not see Jesus. And yet, he possessed such a great faith in the unseen, that he was both physically and spiritually saved.



In many ways, this passage serves as a capstone to the ministry of Jesus so far. It includes many vivid recollections of previous events and charges made. It also serves to further develop the theme of true discipleship by furthering the dichotomy that is present between the Apostles who did not always live up to the standards of discipleship impressed on them, and those often viewed as the bottom end of society, children and blind men, who more accurately reflect the call of Jesus. In Bartimaeus, a perfect example of one whom society rejected, we see that a true disciple is one who submits his own will to the will of Christ.



So, let’s take a quick look at the passage, and see how Bartimaeus is this true disciple.

Jesus and His disciples are leaving Jericho, of which Bartimaeus becomes aware, so he calls out, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!" Many in the crowd rebuke Bartimaeus for his request, no doubt embarrassed that one of the least of their own is making a fool of himself and his fellow citizens in front of a celebrity. The motif of barriers between the healer and those seeking to be healed are found throughout Markan miracle stories. In fact, the disciples themselves served as barriers when they rebuked those bringing children before Jesus in 10:13.

Jesus acknowledges the request and calls him forward, and suddenly those who opposed Bartimaeus changed their tune, encouraging him to go to Jesus. He throws aside his cloak, jumps up, and goes forward, and in this one fluid motion, Bartimaeus, like so many before him, rejects his old life in order to follow Christ.

So, Jesus then asks Bartimaeus, “What do you want me to do for you?” to which Bartimaeus responds with the obvious answer, “I want to regain my sight!”

This was not the first time that Jesus asks this question “What do you want me to do for you?” In fact, Jesus posed the same question to James and John in vs. 36 of this chapter, where, instead of desiring to understand the will of God, to “regain sight”, they reveal their true desires to have the highest honor with Jesus. Despite their sight, they still lacked understanding.

Jesus replies with “Your faith has made you well,” and his sight is restored. The Greek word used has a double meaning; it can be used to describe a physical healing as well as salvation. Bartimaeus went and was given both.

This is not the only healing of a blind man that we find in Mark. Only a few chapters earlier, we see Jesus healing another blind man at Bethsaida by spitting in the man’s eyes and then placing His hands on him. The man could not at first see clearly, and described people as trees, so Jesus again placed His hands on the man, giving him full sight. This scene is a direct allusion to the Apostles, especially Peter, who saw Jesus but did not understand his purposes on earth; he was blurry to them. This is made abundantly clear in the passages that follow that miracle as Peter first proclaims Jesus as the Christ, but then reveals his misunderstanding of what it meant for Jesus to be the Messiah as he rebukes Jesus for saying that he would suffer and die, a process that is painfully and completely necessary for our redemption. Rather than see God’s plan for salvation through sacrifice, Peter imposes his own desires for Messiah to come with earthly power.



And so we see that true discipleship does not stem from our own will but from the will of Christ. So what does this have to do with the Eucharist? Everything. Because we participate in this service as disciples of Christ.



I was not raised in a Liturgical setting, as I would imagine is the same for many of you. And sometimes I think that it is enriching to the experience to have a better understanding of some of the elements contained in it.



Very soon, the presider will ask us to “lift up our hearts”, to which we then proclaim “we lift them up to the Lord”. This portion of the prayer is called the Sursum Corda, which literally means “Lift up your hearts.” When we respond in this way, we as individuals and as the church are lifting ourselves up to God along with the bread and wine as living sacrifices, which hearkens back to Romans 12:1 when Paul writes, “Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God—this is your spiritual act of worship.”



So, if we are to offer our discipleship up to God, we should consider what kind of disciple we are. Are we, like Bartimaeus, seeking to become true disciples through submission of our wills to Jesus, or are we like Peter, who sees trees of Power when he should see the Christ of sacrifice, our are we like James and John who seek self-gain rather than self denial. I would submit to you today that we are all three and then some. When asked "What do you want me to do for you?", somedays we may reply “to regain sight”, while other days our answers may reflect our own wills and desires.



Yet we cannot leave it this way because we are called to be like Christ, who is perfect in humanity and divinity. And so we come to the great divide between the ugliness of man and the Holiness of God, which can only be bridged by the death of Christ. And it is this gift of salvation in His death that we celebrate and remember at the table. It is his ultimate sacrifice that redeems us so that we can become living sacrifices, true disciples, and lift up our hearts in thanksgiving for His wonderful mercy in our lives.



I am not suggesting that we have to be perfect in order to come before the table. Rather, I want to acknowledge the radical calling that is placed on our lives, and enforce the responsibility that we own as individuals and share as a church, disregarding the popular myth that the burden of true discipleship is too difficult, so therefore we shouldn’t try. And this isn’t something that we will arrive at here tonight, or even this week. Rather, we should spend our lives seeking after Christ’s will, submitting ourselves to it, and in the process, becoming true disciples.