Pass the Mustard

I have to admit to being in a more reflective mood today. It has to do with the fact that this coming Sunday, many traditional congregations will celebrate "World Communion Sunday." It's a time when all the churchy posturing and denominational theologies are to be layed aside, so to speak, to remember that at the heart of all that they do, they are all one and the same when it comes to the practice of "communion."

If you are a bit new to all this churchy language, communion (or "eucharist") is a practice which Jesus began in the Upper Room with his friends, the disciples, right before his crucifixion. He took some bread, gave thanks, then broke it and passed to those seated with him reminding them to do this when they gathered to remember him. Later he took some wine, gave thanks, and then gave it to them and asked that they continue this practice after he was gone. This breaking of bread and sharing of wine was a key component to life in the early Christian community and it is an important piece of what those who follow Jesus practice to this day.

So the idea of World Communion Sunday tries to call the existing Christian community back to this idea that we are all at the same table when we gather in our individual places to praise God.

Now, that's all well and good, but I think it misses something. To me this is a bigger reminder, a reminder that is core to how we think around bytheway. It's a reminder that all are welcome to the table. It's not that we have everything figured out, or that we know the "right" way to share in this meal, but it is about invitation to those seeking to be a part of a community that makes a difference in one another's lives and the lives of others.

I'm often reminded of this invitation when I sit down at the table in Unos. The various wonderful people who come to serve me with something to drink or an appetizer are pleasant because that is what they are paid to do. They are perhaps not quite the slave servant that Jesus mentions in Luke's Gospel (17: 5-10). There, Jesus asks a pretty simple question. He wants to know what you would do when your servant came in from the field after working hard all day. He wants to know if you would say to him/her "Go make my dinner" or "Come, sit and eat with me."

Is Jesus hinting at our own laziness? Or is it about something deeper? The conversation here begins with the disciples begging Jesus to "increase our faith." Jesus tells them that if they had faith the size of a mustard seed they could command a mulberry bush to be uprooted and jump in the sea and it would do that. So, what does having power over shrubbery have to do with living a new life?

Is it perhaps that here we are being reminded that we have a tendency to go and do something that is expected of us but then wish to to be congratulated on our good deed? Ever drove the family car and then just decided to fill it back up with gas before coming home? Did you make it clear to everyone in the household that you should be thanked for such a thing? Or, did you get a little irritated when the response was less than thankful? After all, isn't it just right to fill the car with gas when it nears empty? Where's the special offering in that?

So, as we gather at Barnes and Noble or Unos, or even at Panera, I am reminded that what we do is something that we just do because of our exceeding love for others. It is not something any of us do because of some hidden agenda, or because we are looking for a chance to prove something. It's done because we love Jesus.

That seems like such a small little thing...but it's just what we do. So this week, I think I'll be thinking a little bit about how the table is set for you all to come. Each of you with your own unique gifts and talents bring a wonderful flavor to the kingdom. This week, we'll rejoice at the amazing grace that brings such a fragrant and powerful seasoning to our lives. I'll head out trying to bring a little mustard to the table. How about you?