His Body Broken For Me

The Eucharist: What Does It Mean To Us?

Matthew 26:26-30

I want you to picture someone’s face. And I want it to be the face of the most generous person you know.

Now think, what makes them so generous? Do they give and not expect repayment? Do they look out for opportunities to be generous? Do they give way over and above what they can afford? Do they always have time for people? Is nothing too much trouble for them? Would they go without, so that others can have something? Does their generosity ever make you think about your own generosity?

Now, what if I told you that they’re not the most generous person you know?

Today I’m going to suggest that Jesus is the most generous person any of us will ever know. And I’m going to try and get us to think more about his generosity at a really personal level. Then I’ll be inviting you to consider what any of this means to you as a Christian in the world. A disciple at large.

So what exactly is Jesus-like generosity? How generous is God? Maybe there are some other questions to ask ourselves.

• Do I understand why Jesus died?
• Do I know in my heart that he gave up his life for his friends… for me?
• Do I really believe that this gift, that all of God’s enormous generosity, is completely free and given to each and every one of us here, no matter who we are?

These are big questions and a good start if we’re going to understand Jesus-like generosity.

Unfortunately this sermon won’t be answering them, because I don’t think that God’s amazing grace and our salvation in Jesus can be taught. Accepting that we’ve been given everything, even though we don’t deserve it, and that we’re loved beyond measure, even if we didn’t ask for it, and that Jesus is our saviour, even if we can’t understand it, and that we’re the recipients of limitless generosity, even if we don’t appreciate it… No I don’t think that can be taught. That can take a lifetime to come to terms with.

Also I think that understanding what we’ve been given is something we’ll need to regularly revisit, be reminded of and accept over and over again. I’m not sure it’s one of those things you can tick off your discipleship list. Jesus-like generosity might be too big for that.

So we won’t do that today, but at the very least I hope these words will encourage us all to ask ourselves afresh, or even for the first time, what we’ve been given and how we respond in thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving.

This word brings me on to today’s reading. Because the ancient Greeks had a word for thanksgiving. It’s eucharistia. The word we use for communion. I want us to use our imaginations again and think about God’s generosity as remembered in the Eucharist. What’s going on in the Eucharist? What are we doing there, and what does it mean to us?

The Last Supper is written about in Matthew’s Gospel and in Luke’s and Mark’s. It’s also mentioned in 1 Corinthians.  In Luke’s account Jesus says:

Do this in remembrance of me.

What did Jesus mean? It’s a simple request. We’ve been trying to honour it for the last 2000 years. Jesus made a group booking for his friends in a room above a pub that night, so he could share one last big meal with them right before his death, and tell them some big truths. And he said Do this in remembrance of me…

Well I’m not sure if wafers and silver goblets and kneeling at the communion rail was exactly what he had in mind…. but I don’t think that should worry us. However we do it, this act of breaking and sharing bread and wine which represent him dying on the cross for us, and remembering and giving thanks… that’s what it’s about.

And we’re giving thanks that God gave his only Son to be a sacrifice, to live and to die and to be resurrected, for new creation and eternal community. It’s hard to find the right words to adequately sum up why Jesus died for us. But I’ve settled for: he died so that we could live.

He died for the things we’ve done wrong so that, through Him we could be together with the Father in Heaven for eternity. Jesus’ death stands for Forgiveness and Salvation.

Forgiveness and salvation. Why are these two things so hard to understand? Perhaps we don’t feel we need forgiving. Or we don’t feel we need saving? Or perhaps we know we need both forgiving and saving, but can’t imagine that we’d be given both, freely. Haven’t we heard “nothing in life’s for free”. Yet the Bible tells us the exact opposite. It is for free. God’s gift to us is a no strings attached gift. A guarantee for life. That’s God’s amazing grace.

It’s not something we can earn or work towards. It’s not a test we have to pass or something we have to apply for. It’s free. It’s something we’ll never, ever be good enough for and will never deserve. But it’s ours anyway. It’s free. No matter what we’ve done, or how little we know of God. This gift is ours, for free.

God’s generosity is enormous. It’s as deep as the deepest ocean and more numerous than the stars in the sky. It’s in the creation of the world and everything in it, and everything that we are. It’s in our ability to love and be loved, to enjoy music, to create art, to play sport, to think and feel and hope and dream. But more than all that; God’s ultimate gift to us is in the sacrifice of his only Son Jesus Christ. Jesus-like generosity is us being forgiven and saved by him giving up his life.

And this is what we are celebrating in the Eucharist.

Celebrating the Eucharist. I sometimes think that’s a strange turn of phrase. Does it feel like a celebration? Is it appropriate to celebrate Jesus’ gift to us, when we know that it was made perfect by his brutal and terrible death? Or are our eyes on the resurrection, and so it feels like a celebration because we know ultimately, He defeated death?

Using our imaginations again, I’d like you to really consider how you feel during the Eucharist? Should sharing communion be joyful? Does it feel a sombre part of the service? Is it solemn? Serious? Sad? Do we feel delighted? Do we feel grateful? Do we feel anything when we walk up the aisle to the altar and kneel down?

Personally, I find it hard to know how to feel when I’m faced with the enormity of Jesus’ sacrifice. It’s a big mixture of emotions. I feel desperately grateful. And I feel underserving. I feel saddened by his pain. I feel horrified when I think of Bible passages or film scenes depicting his torture and death. There are a lot of emotions going on in my head as I wait for the wafer and sip of wine.

The biggest worry for me is that I might feel nothing. I fear it might become routine. As my faith matures, perhaps one day I’ll just feel simple, deep contentment. But I fear complacent monotony.

And yes, sometimes I struggle to tap into big emotions, as I kneel. Despite everything I’ve just said about forgiveness and salvation and the fact Jesus died for me…sometimes it’s hard to be in the right frame of mind to accept this level of generosity.

So I try and be disciplined about it. I intentionally settle my thoughts on what it is we’re doing. As I listen to the words the vicar uses, I try and visualise that Last Supper.

• What was going through Jesus’ head in that guest room?
• How heavy his heart must have been at the betrayal.
• What would the atmosphere have been like?
• Was Jesus sad? Was he scared? Was he stoic and brave? Did he desperately want more time?
• Did the words catch in his throat as he said “Do this in remembrance of me”?

But more than that night, as I prepare for the Eucharist, I try and imagine the scene at the cross. His body was broken for me, his blood spilled for me, and as long as I live I will never be able to repay Him or to thank Him enough.

I will never be able to thank him enough.

But what could I do, what could we all do as a way of thanks giving? Eucharistia?

Would following Jesus lead us to sharing with others the gifts we’ve freely been given? Could it be as simple as that? Just living each day and looking out for opportunities to be generous, in thought, word and deed. Giving up ourselves for others, and so being closer to Him? Holding less tightly onto our time and our money and our other resources, and so walking his walk. And wouldn’t that deepen our relationship and help us glimpse what heaven might be like?

Now let’s search our hearts and ask ourselves, are there any obstacles in our lives that stop us from taking generosity to the next level?

What are they? What are our worries? What’s in our way? Are we afraid to let go? Are we worried about the future? Do we worry what others think about our giving?  Does not being thanked enough make us reluctant to give again? Can we put our finger on the one thing that might be stopping us from taking the next step in being more generous people? Generous with what we have, even if that’s not much.

And can we give all these worries and concerns to God? Can we ball them up in our fist and imagine putting them down at the altar when we go up to give thanks at the Eucharist? And can we walk back down the aisle knowing that it is because we are forgiven and saved, and the recipient of immeasurable grace, that every day is a fresh start. Because every day God gives to us. Every day we begin again. Every day we can attempt Jesus-like generosity.

Shall we finish in prayer?

Lord God,

We may never fully understand what you have generously given us. Please help us to look with fresh eyes at your creation and to give thanks. Please help us to count our blessings and give thanks. Please help us to appreciate what it is we’re remembering in the Eucharist, and give thanks. Please help us to overcome anything that gets in the way of giving freely and generously as a way of giving thanks to you. Help us to see your Kingdom come through our acts of generosity.  Amen

Let’s Be Clear

Here’s a very brief video explanation of what I’ve written below.

Have you ever visited a church and been baffled by their quite-similar-but-different-enough-to-fox-you customs? You think you’re in a familiar setting, then BAM, something completely unexpected befuddles you.

On the surface, Anglican churches seem much of a muchness, don’t they, with pretty much the same customs going on each week? But dig a little deeper, and you reveal a fascinating gem: the weird and wonderful C of E. We know this. We love our eccentricities and anomalies, our irregularities and inconsistencies. It’s what makes us British.

I spent nearly a decade of my Army career as a cultural specialist studying people from other cultures, so church culture intrigues me. I learned that to study a people, it’s best to try and fit in. My capacity to fit in was rather limited in Afghanistan as I can’t grow much of a beard and I don’t suit a turban, but I had more luck in Bosnia, where I could easily blend in among market stall holders, in bars and in cafes. Plus, when speaking Bosnian, my accent, I’m told, is very similar to that of a Slovenian. The first time I heard this I was delighted.

I digress.

But going ‘undercover’ in church isn’t simple at all. I’ve been worshipping long enough now to know my way around, but almost every time I go to a new church (most weeks in this job) there’s inevitably something strange that crops up that outs me as the outsider that I am.

I say the wrong version of the Lord’s Prayer, or accidentally and loudly continuing with the liturgy, “Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord, Hosanna in the highest,” only to find I’m in a church that stops at the previous Hosanna (we’ve all been there, right?).

I sing the wrong tune to the Gloria, or I expect the full Nicene Creed, but it’s an alternative Affirmation of Faith that I don’t know the words to.

I don’t exit the pew properly for Communion (the backwards shuffle into a reverse queue, or just joining the line like at Tesco?), or I’m in an Evangelical church and get completely confused when extra choruses and verses of the worship song are thrown in unexpectedly, and contrary to the words on the screen. Or worse, the worship band improvises their own words.

There’s always something that catches me. It makes me feel really awkward.

But what confounds me the most is being caught out by the offertory/ offering/ collection (delete as appropriate, because these terms are another thing we differ on).

When I’m visiting a different church and I’ve remembered to bring money, I want to contribute this money to the work of the church. So when the plate doesn’t even come round, and instead zooms up to the front, minus my contribution, I feel quite upset. The regulars know to put their contribution on the plate on the way in, but those not in-the-know don’t know. It makes me feel awkward, stingy and like an outsider.

Equally, some visitors don’t even know an offering will take place so don’t bring anything to give. Other visitors have no idea what this practice is all about, and just see the church as “money grabbing” which puts them off, even if they have brought money.

It’s a real can of worms.

Being newish to church means I still maintain the perspective of the outsider, and so I’ve used this viewpoint to develop a really helpful resource for your church. With one A6 information card, your church can combat awkwardness and visitor distress by answering the what, when, why and how of the offertory.

Made available on every seat, or in every pew space, or handed out to everyone who comes through the door (new and old), this information card about the offertory uses plain and friendly English and a few images to explain what this bit of the service is about, what happens, when it occurs, why generosity is part of Christian faith and how someone can contribute if they wish/are able.

But the really important thing about this information card, is that it clearly states that guest/visitor is not expected to give money today. Contributions to the ongoing mission of the church are regularly made by church members.

This relieves the visitor from the awkwardness of not being able to give, or not knowing what it’s about, whilst serving to remind the body of the church (the regulars) that its mission is made possible by their contributions. Perhaps it will be a helpful and timely reminder to those who don’t feel that their contributions matter. Here in black and white, it states that they do matter.

These simple information cards include other helpful hints and tips and can be completely adapted and tweaked by your church to reflect your own quirks and oddities. This resource has been a popular idea at PCC meetings because of its simplicity and effectiveness as a communication tool. It isn’t meant to replace verbal messages about the offertory, it’s meant to supplement them!

This, like the other Generous Giving Project resources, is aimed at improving communication and getting the message across that God is generous and we as individuals and as a church are invited to be generous too. So taking the awkwardness out of this topic and making it plain and simple means that no-one is left wondering, or left out.

You can download four similar-but-different ready-made templates to get you started by clicking here.

And there you have it.

Here’s a sneak peak of the four double-sided templates. 

 

Edit the information to suit your needs. Then just print (on both sides, flip along short end), laminate, cut up and start sharing this important and helpful information.

 

7 Simple Steps to Symbols of Generosity

(and here’s the quick implementation guide)

A few years ago I was worshipping in a rural church in East Anglia with my husband, and when it came to the offertory, we appeared to be two of the only people in the church who gave anything. I was a new Christian and unfamiliar with the ways of the church, so it made us feel a bit uncomfortable and confused.

Years later I’d realise that the rest of that congregation probably contributed via Standing Order, and so when the plate came round, it went straight past them. Ah so that explains it. But even once I understood this, something still bothered me. It seemed a shame that so many of the congregation didn’t take part. It didn’t seem to fit with the spirit of the thing.

That’s technology for you I suppose. Giving via Standing Oder is so efficient that you don’t even have to stretch your arm out in church! But it does seem rather a shame.

So I was very pleased to find that some churches print off little tokens that could be placed on the plate by those who contribute by Standing Order. This means they can physically take part too.

I love this idea, but wondered if the cards could have a wider use. So, thinking hat firmly on, I developed the concept even further to address a much broader set of issues we seem to have with the offertory!

Because let’s face it, in a lot of churches we try to get this awkward money bit out of the way as quickly and as discreetly as possible. We avoid looking at the plate by reading the words in our hymn books and we avoid hearing the clatter of coins by singing those words loudly. The offertory hymn covers a multitude of… embarrassments!

But what if things were different? What if we properly celebrated this bit of the service that conjured up a sense of joyful giving, or prayerful gratitude?

The token idea that I’ve adapted (ready-to-use template found at end of article) tries to help with this. It’s very simple. Basically, as everyone walks into church, they pick a token from the basket, held out by the welcome team, and when it comes to the offertory, they place it on the plate along with their usual method of giving.

But there’s more!

It’s not just any token. This one says:

“This is a symbol of the different ways I give generously to serve others, and recognition of the many ways God gives generously to me.”

These words reflect that generosity comes in many forms such as hospitality, time, resources, skills and money. And central to the offertory, which happens just before the Eucharist, is God’s generosity. That’s what this token also represents.

And there’s yet more still…

Read on for the different ways this idea can completely change attitudes to generosity in your church.

1. Prayer. On the reverse side is a prayer. This helps people to see the link between God and generosity. In the template I’ve produced there are dozens, so each week people are likely to pick up and use a new generosity prayer.
2. Mission. These prayers could highlight God’s vast generosity, the mission of the church, and might especially help those who don’t know what impact their generosity has. These prayers help people to see generous contributions fund things like clergy and lay training, stipends, mission activities, youth events, Messy Church resources, etc.
3. Inclusivity. It’s not just Standing Order contributors. It includes everybody, even the vicar and the choir, who may not be able to keep their purse under their robes but could easily pick up this small card on their way into church. Everyone chooses a prayer card from a basket regardless of how or what they give, their prayer (their generosity) is blessed at the altar along with all the other prayers and gifts on the plate. This helps us to understand that we all give something at some point and we’re all included in God’s generosity. Those who can’t give (because they forgot, they weren’t aware or they’re too poor) can take part in a church-wide blessing of generosity.
4. Collaboration. you can use prayers I’ve written, or… the prayers on the back could be written by your PCC, or by your youth group. Or they could be written one week, by your whole church at the various services people attend, so that a collection is built of the prayers of the entire body of the parish.
5. Participation. Instead of the vicar/rector/worship leader blessing the offering using the standard liturgy “Yours, Lord, is the greatness, the power, the glory…” or their own prayer, they could pick a card at random each week and read that out. This could help whoever chose (or wrote) that prayer to feel very much part of the worship, strengthening bonds and participation.
6. Pause. Why not consider using the offertory as an opportunity to pause… and think back on the previous week/month about all the ways God has shown generosity and all the ways you have given generously of yourself, including the gifts given today on the plate. As the plate comes around, and everyone is holding their prayer card, each could be reflecting on all the ways they are blessed and bless others. It could be done in silence or with an appropriate piece of music playing (possibly the organist, a CD, or our worship band). By not singing a hymn, the church could take time to pause and focus. And when it comes to the blessing, the music could end and everybody could hear the words of the minister/worship leader.

These suggestions could help your church to do so many things with just one small piece of card.

From creating a clear and obvious link between the mission of the church and the gifts that people contribute, to the participation and collaboration of every member, to the pressure it could take off visitors or others who can’t give much or give in other ways, by other methods or at different times. Wouldn’t a church that celebrated the offertory like this communicate to an outsider that it was a generous church? I think it really would.

(and here’s the quick implementation guide)

Prayer Token Templates

Room at my Table

A Story of Generosity In Unlikely Circumstances

One day in the winter of 2012 I was out on patrol with an infantry unit in southern Afghanistan. The sun was low in the sky and the air was cold. The ploughed fields were crusty with frost, which crunched under our boots as we slowly made our way over them. We scanned the ground at our feet, the near distance and far distance repeatedly, vigilant and aware, looking for signs of hidden explosive devices or ready for the crack and thump of enemy gun fire. Our breath fogged the air, and our fingers felt numb against the cold metal of our rifles, but our heavy kit meant we were still sweating. The day was much like any other.

I was up near the front of the patrol, and because I speak the local language, I would often do the meeting and greeting if we bumped into locals. Up ahead a farmer was working on his thin strip of land with a few other men, his brothers probably, and a lot of children running around.

The men were old, perhaps. It’s hard to tell. Life is tough for a Helmandi farmer. Just because your face is deeply lined and you have very few teeth, doesn’t necessarily mean you’re over 40. When they saw us they paused in their work. One removed his turban and wiped his brow.

He shouted a greeting, “As-Salaam-Alaikum”

Our Officer responded, “Wa-Alaikum-Salaam”. I took over from here.

The men invited us to sit with them for a chat. One of them spread out his patu, a large woollen piece of material which is variously used as a shawl, scarf, bag and blanket. While most of the soldiers moved out in a wide circle facing outwards (for protection), a few key members of the patrol sat down on or near the patu. A child was sent running away to bring chai (tea) and sweets while we chatted about. There was much beard stroking and hand rubbing. We soldiers uncomfortably shifted our weight on the ground. It’s difficult trying to sit cross-legged as an adult under normal circumstances, but just try doing it in body armour!

The child returned with a tray, and others followed with small glasses (Afghans don’t drink out of mugs), some flasks of green tea and plastic boxes containing boiled sweets. We’d not been talking long when one of the farmers dropped a bombshell, figuratively speaking.

“These cups, this tea, these sweets,” he gestured with his hand and paused, “…yesterday we were drinking with the Taliban.” Instinctively I looked to the horizon, and pressed my ear piece closer to my head to hear what the soldiers were saying on the net. He went on, “Yesterday we were hosting the Taliban, today we host you. Melmastia.”

Melmastia is the Pashtu word for hospitality. It’s not just a word though, it’s a code of conduct. It’s a virtue ingrained into the Pashtun tribal psyche that is a point of deep honour. It requires the host to offer hospitality to any stranger, offered for free and without expectation of reciprocity. Or in other words, you’re offered a cuppa no matter who you are, even if you can’t return the favour. I was intrigued and delighted by this, even if it did make me feel very uncomfortable that the enemy had been sitting here only a day before. I’d had enough encounters with the enemy by now to want to avoid crossing of paths, even if it was over a brew.

A little while later, after I became a Christian, I read a passage from Luke’s Gospel (14:12-14) and it reminded me of this exact moment. Jesus is talking to a Pharisee, in whose house he is dining, about hospitality.

¹² Then Jesus said to his host, “When you give a luncheon or dinner, do not invite your friends, your brothers or sisters, your relatives, or your rich neighbours; if you do, they may invite you back and so you will be repaid. ¹³ But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, ¹⁴ and you will be blessed. Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”

It seems to me that the themes of hospitality and generosity are very much linked. Because generosity isn’t just kindness, it’s above and beyond that. It’s more. It’s extra. And hospitality isn’t just meeting your guests’ needs, it’s making them feel welcome, giving them your best, getting out the fancy crockery. And clearly, to Jesus, who those guests are, requires thought and attention too. Jesus tells us not just to invite our friends and family but to think of those who don’t normally get invited. Just like the Pashtun tribe, hospitality is for everyone, even your enemies.

At the Lord’s Table, and by that I’m specifically talking about the altar when we receive communion, we are told we are all welcome. And this welcome isn’t merely about extending hospitality to strangers. What’s special about God’s invitation to His Table is that we’ve done nothing to deserve it, and can never do anything to deserve it. We acknowledge that we are the poor, the lame, the blind, the ones with complicated lives full of mistakes that Jesus is making right. Everybody is welcome to dine with Christ. His generosity extends to all of us because Jesus died for our sake, the ultimate gift.

There are people in our communities, perhaps on our street, who are lonely, who are poor, who don’t know they are loved or special, who are even homeless. I wonder if we could give the gift of hospitality, melmastia. Because the challenge for us Christians is…well, to be Christ-like. So who is welcome at our table? Put another way, who do we not extend hospitality to and why? What if we tried to think of our own table as the Lord’s Table, and to share with others as the Lord shares with us? Could we do something very generous, and find room for one more person at our table this Christmas. I wonder who that person could be.

Get involved: Community Christmas and Contact the Elderly and Campaign to End Loneliness

BEFORE YOU GO! You are very welcome (and indeed encouraged!) to use these articles in parish magazines, to hand out at the end of your service as A4 sheets or to use as content for Home Groups etc. Please cite the website so others can find their way here, and have a very Merry Christmas.