Invitation to the Banquet
April 21, 2008
"I won't take no for an answer," God began
to say to me when He opened His arms each
night wanting us to dance. St. Catherine
of Siena
God leads me to still waters, that
restores my spirit. Psalm 23
Go to the street corners and invite to the
banquet anyone you find. Jesus
As Alan Jones celebrated Eucharist one
Sunday, in San Francisco's Grace Cathedral,
he couldn't help but notice a young man
standing at the very back of the sanctuary.
His clothing (atypical of "church attire")
and his uneasy demeanor gave him
away.
Alan could not tell if the visitor was entering, or wanting to leave. Even so, the young man stood against the back wall for the entire service.
As members of the congregation processed to the altar for the bread and wine, the young man waited, unmoved, at the back wall.
His curiosity piqued, Alan made a point to seek out the young man. In conversation he learned that this young man lived on the city streets, that life had been unforgiving, and is now fighting a most formidable foe, AIDS.
"We're glad you are here." Alan told him, "But why did you stay in the back of the church? Why didn't you come down to the table for communion?"
"I didn't think I would be allowed in." The young man replied.
In a national magazine, an ad for the Humane Society minced no words. Above an adorable puppy and kitten, the ad read, "It's who owns them that makes them important."
So I wonder. Who or what owns us, that tells us we are not invited to the banquet?
I know this - in our world of unrelenting pace, with measurements predicated on achievement, appearance and accomplishment, grace is all the more unbelievable. Busyness can own me and becomes the default setting for my worth and my value. So deep down, I know what that young man meant. Because I know what it feels like to believe that I need to earn my way in.
What is the antidote? Sabbath rest.
. . . a Sabbath rest still remains for the people of God;
for those who enter God's rest also cease from their labors
as God did from his. (Hebrews 4: 9-10)
Above all else, Sabbath rest = gift of grace.
Grace.
As in, you are invited.
As in, our rest (our identity) is in this embrace-this presence, this love, this invitation--of the Creator.
In this space--this embrace--we savor, rest, find solace, comfort and restoration.
Last week I watched the Masters Golf Tournament. (Because I am unabashedly addicted to golf.) The winner, Trevor Immelman, putted well enough to win because he gave up "result-oriented thinking." Result-oriented thinking is our mindset when we focus only on the payoff (or outcome). It gets us in trouble because it leads to self-conscious, technical or mechanical behavior.
I can do the same thing with Sabbath. You know, the being led by still waters and having my spirit restored. . .count me in. But first tell me what I need to do! Some sort of checklist for my PDA. And then, while I'm resting, I want to know who is watching and how well I'm doing. After all, if I'm going to practice Sabbath rest, I might as well be good at it!
Sabbath rest is grace, because this is not something we do. Sabbath is something we don't do. In other words, it's not about orchestrating anything. Or creating a spiritual event, or cheerful mood or balanced day.
It's not just about putting down my tools.
It's not just about blocking out a day.
It's about reveling in the abundance of the Creator's goodness.
It is about openness. Play, savoring, delighting.
So I ask you. "Where did you here the voice of Grace today?"
My friend Carole, in Humble, Texas (pronounced Umbal, with three full and protracted syllables) is full of vitality and compassion, and a healthy dash of vinegar. We had lunch at a Humble restaurant, infamous for sizable helpings of local fare. The check came. Before I could react, Carol snatched it. "Just sit down," she told me. "This is my treat. Because this is not for you to worry about."
Now that, well that is Grace. And it is Sabbath. So I sat back down. I grinned. I relaxed. I rested. And I savored the homemade banana pudding.
Alan could not tell if the visitor was entering, or wanting to leave. Even so, the young man stood against the back wall for the entire service.
As members of the congregation processed to the altar for the bread and wine, the young man waited, unmoved, at the back wall.
His curiosity piqued, Alan made a point to seek out the young man. In conversation he learned that this young man lived on the city streets, that life had been unforgiving, and is now fighting a most formidable foe, AIDS.
"We're glad you are here." Alan told him, "But why did you stay in the back of the church? Why didn't you come down to the table for communion?"
"I didn't think I would be allowed in." The young man replied.
In a national magazine, an ad for the Humane Society minced no words. Above an adorable puppy and kitten, the ad read, "It's who owns them that makes them important."
So I wonder. Who or what owns us, that tells us we are not invited to the banquet?
I know this - in our world of unrelenting pace, with measurements predicated on achievement, appearance and accomplishment, grace is all the more unbelievable. Busyness can own me and becomes the default setting for my worth and my value. So deep down, I know what that young man meant. Because I know what it feels like to believe that I need to earn my way in.
What is the antidote? Sabbath rest.
. . . a Sabbath rest still remains for the people of God;
for those who enter God's rest also cease from their labors
as God did from his. (Hebrews 4: 9-10)
Above all else, Sabbath rest = gift of grace.
Grace.
As in, you are invited.
As in, our rest (our identity) is in this embrace-this presence, this love, this invitation--of the Creator.
In this space--this embrace--we savor, rest, find solace, comfort and restoration.
Last week I watched the Masters Golf Tournament. (Because I am unabashedly addicted to golf.) The winner, Trevor Immelman, putted well enough to win because he gave up "result-oriented thinking." Result-oriented thinking is our mindset when we focus only on the payoff (or outcome). It gets us in trouble because it leads to self-conscious, technical or mechanical behavior.
I can do the same thing with Sabbath. You know, the being led by still waters and having my spirit restored. . .count me in. But first tell me what I need to do! Some sort of checklist for my PDA. And then, while I'm resting, I want to know who is watching and how well I'm doing. After all, if I'm going to practice Sabbath rest, I might as well be good at it!
Sabbath rest is grace, because this is not something we do. Sabbath is something we don't do. In other words, it's not about orchestrating anything. Or creating a spiritual event, or cheerful mood or balanced day.
It's not just about putting down my tools.
It's not just about blocking out a day.
It's about reveling in the abundance of the Creator's goodness.
It is about openness. Play, savoring, delighting.
So I ask you. "Where did you here the voice of Grace today?"
My friend Carole, in Humble, Texas (pronounced Umbal, with three full and protracted syllables) is full of vitality and compassion, and a healthy dash of vinegar. We had lunch at a Humble restaurant, infamous for sizable helpings of local fare. The check came. Before I could react, Carol snatched it. "Just sit down," she told me. "This is my treat. Because this is not for you to worry about."
Now that, well that is Grace. And it is Sabbath. So I sat back down. I grinned. I relaxed. I rested. And I savored the homemade banana pudding.
Poems / Prayers
Consumed in Grace
I first saw God when I was child, six year of age.
The cheeks of the sun were pale before Him,
and the earth acted as a shy
girl, like me.
Divine light entered my heart from His love
that did never fully wane,
though indeed, dear, I can understand how a person's
faith can at times flicker,
for what is the mind to do
with something that becomes the mind's ruin:
a God that consumes us
in His grace.
I have seen what you want;
it is there,
a Beloved of infinite tenderness.
St. Catherine of Siena (1347 - 1380)
There's a Wideness in God's Mercy
For the love of God is broader
Than the measure of our mind;
And the heart of the Eternal
Is most wonderfully kind.
F.W. Faber
For the morning light
and its irresistible dawning,
for your untamable utterances of life
in countless stretches of space
and the strength of the waves of the sea
I give you thanks, O God.
Release in me the power of your spirit
that my soul may be free
and my spirit strong.
Release in my the freedom of your Spirit
that I may be bridled by nothing but love
that I may be bridled only by love
Celtic Benediction (Island of Iona)
Peace,
Terry Hershey
