September 7, 2014
Remembering in Community
- Exodus 12:1-14
- Dr. Teri Thomas
It was one of those days,
too much to do and not enough time,
disorienting situations popping up constantly,
nagging worries or regrets hanging in the back of your mind,
the to-do list growing in the front.
You get off work,
rush past the grocery-
desperately trying to remember what is already rotting in the fridge.
At home the kids are hungry and bickering.
Your partner can’t find that important file carried home from the office.
Someone needs help with homework.
You throw dinner on the table and collapse
Praying for a moment of peace.
No such luck.
There is a science project due tomorrow
Soccer practice starts in 45 minutes.
But even a few minutes at the table
the family gathered
sharing a meal
gives us the strength to go on.
What is it about family meals?
Think about the ones around your table.
Christmas with the kids and grandkids gathered in excitement and anticipation.
Funeral dinners where families come together to celebrate a life and share their sorrow.
Wedding receptions where families and friends assemble to rejoice in the beginning of something new.
What are the stories that are shared around your table?
Every Thanksgiving someone remembers the time Grandma made roast beef instead of turkey.
Every Christmas you notice the chair at the head of the table where dad used to sit.
And on ordinary evenings the family rehashes the day,
sharing the funny moments experienced,
the curious people met,
the difficulties encountered.
A family meal around a common table
it brings a calming sense of security in the midst of a constantly changing world.
The worry and the anxiety and the fears take a rest
as we sit in the company and support
of those we love and those who love us.
We have a table based faith.
The table is more than just a symbol.
It is a place where belief is served, shared, consumed, and nurtured.
The table is more than a piece of furniture.
It is a living presence in our journey of faith.
This morning’s reading from Exodus is a table story.
The Hebrew people are in the midst of a crisis.
With hearts racing and hands trembling they scurry to find a lamb.
they rush home to paint the doorpost.
No time to worry about lines and edges- just splatter the blood.
Then the roasting, the baking, gather the bitter herbs,
hurry, eat quickly,
gird the loins, grab the sandals and staff.
And don’t forget the family, the neighbors, those who might be alone,
because nobody eats this meal alone.
And in the midst of the chaos, the fear, the uncertainty
there is the table- a sacred space marked off for God.
The beginning of new life is lived out among others
who together will learn of God’s faithfulness.
The experience at the Passover table for them marked a new beginning,
a moment beyond which they would never be the same.
The Exodus journey of the children of God begins at a table.
At a table Jesus had lunch with Zacchaeus
and taught him the meaning of generosity.
At a table Jesus had dinner with Lazarus and Mary and Martha
teaching them the meaning of discipleship.
At a picnic Jesus fed 5000 people demonstrating the meaning of faith.
And at a table, Jesus gathered in an upper room with his disciples.
They celebrated the Passover, remembering their heritage
remembering the faithfulness of their God
remembering the power of God to overcome oppression, adversity, and hopelessness.
And that same night, at that same meal, Jesus prepared those disciples to move into the new life lived out among others who together will learn of God’s faithfulness.
He prepared them for a new beginning, a moment beyond which they would never be the same.
I spent most of the last week moving.
The room that is supposed to be my home office is a storage room right now
full of boxes and pictures and furniture that doesn’t fit anywhere else.
So I set up my laptop on the dining room table to finish this sermon.
While this table has never been my favorite piece of furniture,
it is the one I have had the longest.
It has survived eight moves and countless redecorating attempts.
When I sit there I remember.
The year I hosted the family Christmas because Thomas had chickenpox and we couldn’t travel.
Various church groups gathered for gourmet dinners and fellowship.
Getting to know the Eritrean refugees sharing injera and wat.
Even though right now the table is piled with books and file folders and packing paper
I can still smell wine, and taste bread dipped in olive oil.
I can recall sitting long into the evening as candles melted away and plates and glasses sat empty. Tears have been shed around the table. Laughs and giggles have sounded forth.
Fears and questions and dread were spoken at the table. Sorrow was poured out at the table. Life and healing and rebirth have been joyously celebrated. I’ve fed on love and compassion at the table. Possibility and promise were served up at the table.
The table.
A place to gather with friends and family
A place to get acquainted with new people
A place to repair relationships and resolve misunderstandings
A place to plan the future
A place to remember our past and prepare for our future.
This table is Lord’s. Jesus is the host.
And Jesus told the disciples- wherever two or three are gathered- I am there.
When you come to this table remember me.
When you come to this table know I am with you.
When you come to this table it is a new beginning.
The beginning of new life is lived out among others
who together will learn of God’s faithfulness.
A moment beyond which you will never be the same.
Come to the table.