Sermons

Matthew 14:13-21; Matthew 15:21-28, 32-39 – Rev. Rebecca Littlejohn

Vista La Mesa Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), La Mesa, California – October 5, 2014

World Communion Sunday

 Holy God, bless the speaking and the hearing of these words that we might come to understand the depth and breadth of your love and see how your table extends beyond all barriers.  We pray it in the name of Jesus, Amen.

Perhaps you were expecting me to read a communion passage today, as we celebrate World Communion Sunday?  The Last Supper stories from Matthew, or Mark or Luke, or maybe the passage from First Corinthians 11, where Paul instructs those errant Greeks in the true meaning of the Table?  And yet, I’m pretty sure we did just hear communion stories.  Did you hear the Words of Institution?  In that first story, it says, “Taking the five loaves and the two fish,” Jesus “looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples,” who then distributed them to the crowd.  Took, blessed, broke, gave.  In the second story it says, “he took the seven loaves and the fish; and after giving thanks he broke them and gave them to the disciples.”  Took, blessed, broke, gave.

These are the original Lord’s Suppers.  In the gospel of John, the feeding of the 5000 is the only Lord’s Supper, as the night of betrayal is taken up with foot washing.  It’s the only miracle story that is present in all four gospels.  And both feedings have those four vital actions – took, blessed, broke, gave – so I think we can qualify them as communion stories.  Even if there was fish involved, which we’re all glad didn’t become tradition!

Today, though, as we celebrate the vastness and diversity of Christ’s table, it’s not just these feeding miracles I want to focus on.  They are beautiful stories, of God’s abundance emerging from what seemed like scarcity, of the disciples becoming part of something they never thought possible, of hundreds and thousands of people being filled.  And yet, I think what we can learn about communion from the other story we heard is just as important.

I wouldn’t say that the story of Jesus interacting with the Canaanite woman is a communion story, although the subject of bread does come up.  Indeed, it’s a little embarrassing, because Jesus is withholding the bread, insisting it is only for the children of Israel, and basically calling this foreign woman a dog.  But the woman, abandoning all semblance of dignity, begs for even the crumbs that fall from the table.  You might even say she shames him into offering his healing power.  That’s what he does, at any rate.  But I don’t think the story ends there.  Because just a few verses later, there is another miracle feeding story, and there is a crucial difference from the one in the chapter before.

How many baskets of leftovers are there in the story of the feeding of the 5000?  Yes, twelve.  And who knows what twelve represents in the Bible?  Certainly, there are 12 disciples, but that’s because they’re reflecting the 12 tribes of Israel.  Having twelve baskets of leftovers means that the people of Israel will never be hungry again.  But how many baskets of leftovers are there in the story of the feeding of the 4000, the second story?  There are seven baskets this time.  And seven, while slightly more complicated, is also a significant number in the Bible.  There are 7 days of creation, and 7 commandments in the covenant of Noah, which are to apply to all humanity.  Seven, in Bible symbolism, refers to the whole world.  Those seven baskets show that Jesus’ ministry has been broken wide open to feed everybody.  The fact that that happens almost immediately after his encounter with this Canaanite woman is not a coincidence.  Indeed, the two stories complement and highlight one another.  There are arrows pointing back and forth between them.  We cannot truly understand the Table of Christ without taking into account the story of Jesus and the Canaanite woman.

This table is radically open.  The welcome here is so radical, it took even Jesus a little while to warm up to it.  When we break bread here, we are breaking barriers.  Or another way of putting it – if we’re not breaking barriers when we break bread, then we’re not really celebrating the Lord’s Supper.  This is a radical meal, one that invites us to a table prepared in the presence of our enemies, for they have been offered seats as well.  It is a Table that both offers comfort and invites us outside our comfort zones, into deeper community.  In order to be sure we’re really celebrating at the Table of Christ, we sometimes have to make extra effort to make sure we’re extending the invitation as widely as we can.  What is even more telling is whether the rest of our lives make it clear that we meet our God at a Table that is radically inclusive like this.  They say ‘you are what you eat,’ but are we really offering the life-changing, unconditional love of Christ we receive here to the rest of our world?

In 1996, the Ku Klux Klan held a rally in Ann Arbor, Michigan.  There was, as you might expect, a boisterous counter-protest of folks determined to let the KKK know that their message of hateful prejudice was not welcome in Ann Arbor.  In the midst of that interaction, a man with an SS tattoo and a Confederate flag t-shirt ended up on the counter-protesters side of the fence.  He was knocked down, and people began kicking him and shouting, “Kill the Nazi!”  Eighteen-year-old Keshia Thomas threw herself on top of the man, to protect him from the blows of the people attacking him.  This young, African-American woman covered up a man, who probably five minutes earlier would have recoiled from touching her, so that he wouldn’t get hurt.  That is the radical love that we celebrate at this table today.  Months later, a young man came up to Keshia to thank her for her bravery, explaining that he was that man’s son.[1]  We can only pray that her intervention broke the cycle of hatred that is too often handed down from generation to generation.

What are we teaching our children?  As we celebrate this meal, which is shared around the globe, what message are we sending?  Is this a table whose leftovers are only for those already in, or will we have baskets for those still on the outside?  Will we merely offer crumbs to those we don’t really know, or will we invite them to sit down on the grass with us, as we receive the feast Christ is preparing?  Will we break the bread that breaks barriers, or will we remain in our school lunch-room cliques, never risking the radical love that the gospel commands?  If Jesus could allow himself to be changed – to have his heart opened wider, his miracles made more abundant – by an encounter with a stranger, surely we can admit we might benefit from such experiences as well.

This whole literary arc happening in Matthew 14 and 15 is foreshadowing to the way Jesus will later send the disciples out to Jerusalem, and Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.  Our family traditions, our foods, the ways we celebrate at feast tables are such a central part of our identities.  Our food is how we know who we are; it’s one of the main ways cultures are distinguished from one another.  But Jesus is breaking all that wide open.  ‘Here, you have some, and you have some, and you have some.  And you share with him, and you share with her, and you six all try each other’s lunches.  Everybody come and eat!  Break bread with one another.’

And when we do, we discover that we’re not as different as we thought, we learn to love new flavors; we make new friends.  And thus, the Body of Christ grows stronger, because we’ve come to care about one another more deeply.  That is what we celebrate this day.  That is what we’re called to by this day.  Let us rejoice in the power of Christ’s Spirit to make us one!  Alleluia and Amen!

[1] https://www.facebook.com/search/keyword/?q=a%20mighty%20girl%20keshia