So anyone who eats this bread or drinks this cup of the Lord unworthily is guilty of sinning against the body and blood of the Lord. That is why you should examine yourself before eating the bread and drinking the cup. For if you eat the bread or drink the cup without honoring the body of Christ, you are eating and drinking God’s judgment upon yourself. [1 Corinthians 11:28 (NLT)]
Christ our Lord invites to his table all who love him, who earnestly repent of their sin and seek to live in peace with one another. [United Methodist Book of Worship]
In the denominational church we attend Saturday nights, we celebrate Communion every week. As part of the liturgy, the congregation is invited to join in a corporate general confession. The pastor then tells the congregation that, in the name of Jesus Christ, they are forgiven. The congregation responds with the words, “In the name of Jesus Christ, you are forgiven!” New to this denomination, at first I wondered, “Does the pastor need the entire congregation’s forgiveness?”
With just a little thought I realized we weren’t forgiving the pastor (unless, of course, she’s harmed us in some way); we were forgiving all who have wronged us. Sinning and being sinned against are part of the human condition. If we need God’s forgiveness (and we always do), it’s a sure thing that someone out there needs our forgiveness as much as we need theirs.
Our Lord’s words were “forgive us our sins, as we have forgiven those who sin against us,” [Matthew 6:12] which seems to mean that the way we give forgiveness is the way we’ll receive it. But does that mean we’ll not be forgiven if we don’t forgive? That seems to run contrary to the concept of God’s grace. I’ve read assorted and contradictory commentaries on this and still don’t know the answer to that one. What I do know is that the power to forgive doesn’t come from me; it comes from the Holy Spirit. Perhaps our inability to forgive others has more to do with our relationship with God than with anyone else.
The Apostle Paul tells us to examine ourselves before partaking of the bread and wine which would seem to mean that we should examine our relationship with Christ to determine whether it is sincere and genuine. Harboring condemnation, ire, bitterness, or resentment indicates there’s a problem in our relationship with Jesus as well as with someone else. The message of the gospel, however, is one of reconciliation and forgiveness.
When I say those words of forgiveness during Saturday worship, I am reminded that Jesus placed the burden of forgiveness and reconciliation on me. It doesn’t matter who is at fault, who should be the one to apologize, or whether the person who offended us is repentant or not. We can’t ask for the blessings found in the Lord’s Supper if we’re unwilling to share those blessings with friend and enemy alike. There is no room for anger and unforgiveness at the Lord’s table; His table is one of love and forgiveness.
‘Forgive our sins as we forgive,’ you taught us, Lord, to pray,
but you alone can grant us grace to live the words we say…
In blazing light your cross reveals the truth we dimly knew:
what trivial debts are owed to us, how great our debt to you!
[“Forgive Our Sins as We Forgive” by Rosamond E. Herklots]
The bitterroot plant was a staple in the Native American diet; just a few ounces of the dried root provided enough nourishment for a meal. Bitterroot could also settle an upset stomach, relieve the itch from poison ivy, and numb the pain of a sore throat. Unlike the bitterroot, however, the root of bitterness is anything but life-sustaining or healing.
Philemon was a wealthy member and leader of the church in Colossae and Onesimus was his slave. Apparently after stealing from his master, Onesimus ran away and ended up in Rome. After finding his way to the Apostle Paul, who was under house arrest at the time, Onesimus became a Christian. The one page book of Philemon is simply a personal letter to the runaway slave’s owner pleading the man’s case.
Our sermon series was titled “Cage Fighting” but, rather than learning about fighting one another, we were learning about the ways Satan attacks and keeps us in his stronghold with things like shame, doubt, fear, and unforgiveness. While chatting with the pastor before church, I asked about the day’s topic. When he said offense, I immediately thought we’d learn how to take offensive action against the enemy.
Someone was missing from yesterday’s story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego and the fiery furnace: their good friend Daniel. When Nebuchadnezzar’s giant statue was erected on the plain of Dura, word was sent to all of his officials to assemble there for the statue’s dedication. We know Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were there because Daniel reported that they got tossed in a fiery furnace for refusing to bow to an idol. But what of Daniel? He’s the one who chronicled the event: the one who wrote that all of the high officers, officials, governors, advisers, treasurers, judges, magistrates, and provincial officials were present. Daniel gives no explanation for his absence at the dedication of the king’s golden statue.
It was late Saturday night when one of our pastors glanced at the next day’s church program and saw that Sunday’s sermon was titled “Epithet.” Since he wasn’t speaking about insults on social media but about the way we’ll be remembered when we’re gone, it should have read “Epitaph.” After spending the next hour trying to figure out a way to tie epithets into epitaphs, he realized it made more sense to own up to his spelling error, which he did at all three services.
