Hold That Tray!

            John Brodie was pro football’s first player to sign a million dollar contract. His career spanned from the late fifties to the early seventies. During his prime, he was without doubt one of the great quarterbacks in the game.

            In the mid-sixties, Brodie and the old American Football League’s franchise, the Houston Oilers, arranged a deal which called for him to switch leagues and join the Oilers. It was this transaction that helped to cause the merger between the National Football League and the AFL.

            Because of his success, a reporter decided to goad Brodie a little during a particular press conference. The reporter asked Brodie why it was that a million dollar quarterback had to hold the football on field goals and extra-points. "Well," Brodie replied, "If I didn't, it would fall over."

            I always like that story, and it gave me encouragement yesterday morning when I was asked to serve the trays for our communion service. As silly as it sounds, serving “on the table” made me feel apprehensive. It had been almost thirty years since I had done that. I knew there were always risks involved in serving communion.

            When I was a kid, one of our members accidentally dropped the trays of grape juice he was holding, shattering the glass cups. The preacher tried to pass off the situation lightly with some humor, but the guy was so embarrassed, he never came back.

            I did not want to make a mistake in front of a lot of people, but risks notwithstanding, I decided to accept the challenge. After all, if nobody were to "hold the ball", “it would fall over.” 

            I knew the guys who were given the responsibility to locate people to help during the assembly. They always had a hard time finding folks to serve.

            Moreover, and I hope this does not sound presumptuous, but I thought it would be good for my kids to see me serve the church in another way besides being the preacher. So far my transition out of the pulpit has gone well, and I have been very pleased that my kids are identifying me in a role unique to them—“regular” member. You see, for as long as my kids have known me, I have been the preacher of their church.

            Our fellowship, comparatively speaking, is pretty good about not holding preachers on too high a pedestal, but even in our fellowship, there is something distinctive about the position of pulpit minister. I DO want my kids to nail down the fact that I'm a disciple first—not a preacher.

            That can be hard, particularly when their friends do not view things that way. At Shiloh, we are blessed with a large campus and many wonderful facilities, which people of the community use literally everyday. Last July, during our Vacation Bible School, one my son's elementary school friends (who does not attend a church) visited.

            One night, he emphatically stated to the children of his VBS class, “Timothy's dad owns all of this!” Of course, we know Jesus owns it; we're just marking time attempting to become more like him.

            Having stated that my kids (and their friends!) need to see me as a disciple first, I know I do as well. As I wrote a few weeks ago in this blog, I have loved preaching so much. Earlier this year I became concerned preaching may have become an idol for me. I know how crucial it is that I view myself as a disciple first, and not a preacher.

            As silly as it sounds, serving the communion trays-with all of its risks-was another opportunity to allow myself to be tested. I knew it was a good probe into my heart.

            Subsequently, I passed out the trays. Thankfully, I do not think I disrupted the service. I did not pass the trays to the wrong person. I did not drop grape juice.

            I think I passed the physical test of serving during communion.

            I hope I also passed the spiritual test of my heart.

            

A Little Dab Will Do You

             I received good and interesting feedback on my thoughts on THE LORD’S SUPPER/COMMUNION last week. What I wish to do today is unusual for me; today, I wish to make an argument for the other side.

            It would go like this.

            There is no way we can replicate the Lord’s Supper/Communion experience of the First Century. First, for a substantial number of Christians, that meal was their biggest and best of the week. (This is one of the reasons Paul jumped on the more well-to-do Corinthians—they enjoying a relatively sumptuous meal; meanwhile, the poor had little to eat and left hungry.)

            Meat was not an item Christians could always afford. For Jewish Christians, a carry-over from some of the sacrificial meals under the old law was eating meat during sacred meals. Most of us regularly eat meat, and when was the last time you enjoyed a church’s potluck more than you did food from your favorite restaurant.

            Second, for some early Christians, the only time they would enjoy a full stomach would be after the agape meal (the meal experienced in the context for the Lord’s Supper/Communion.) Were we to eat our fill during the Lord’s Supper/Communion today, we would have to wait until—the next meal… before we would fill our stomachs again. Whether we desire to admit or not, most of us have enough food in our pantries to fill our stomach’s for a week or two.

            Most of us, Christians, in the U.S. are simply affluent. So why make a big deal about eating our fill during the Lord’s Supper/Communion?

            The fact is, we are not where we are going. We have not experienced heaven’s wedding meal with the Lamb. That is to come. Indeed, it says something about our present limitations that we can eat until our bellies are full, and yet we hunger again by the time the next meal rolls around.

            Why not partake of just a taste of heaven—a reign and an experience that is not fully consummated yet?

            Someday, that age will come—but not yet. The wafer of unleavened bread and the thimbleful cup size of grape juice remind us of our present existence.

            LIFE IS BETTER, NOW THAT WE KNOW THE LORD. However, we are not where we desire to be—or where we will be.

            Until then, we will eat portions influenced by a fallen creation to celebrate God’s work in Jesus, and encourage us to wait for what is to come.

            I am not saying this should be our regular practice. I am saying how we think could redeem our current practice.

Five Things I Think I Think (with a nod to Peter King for this idea)

1. Okay, I have read messages from some of my friends on Facebook—wonderful, spiritual, and godly reactions to Osama Bin Laden’s death. These included marvelous scriptures that really made me think.

            So now, I am going to offer my initial emotional reaction. I am not saying it was right. Indeed, in light of scripture, it probably was wrong. But here it is:

            Last night, my daughter, Haleigh, woke me up from a deep sleep. Excitedly, she said, “Dad, they just killed Osama bin Laden. The president is speaking.”

               This is one of the few times I can remember being awakened from a deep sleep, and feeling upbeat about the experience. Instantly, even as my mind was processing the news, I felt positive emotions.

            Entering our den, where Haleigh had the president's speech live on the computer, I saw and heard him talking to the nation, and to the world. By then, I was fully awake, and I felt deep joy.

            Ten years is a long time. The world is a different place.

            Recently, I began watching Tom Hanks’ mini-series, THE PACIFIC. Some of those soldiers experienced perhaps the closest humans will get to hell on earth. Suicidal enemies attacking them using island civilians as instruments to blow up and destroy American soldiers. I tend to give others the benefit of the doubt when they have to choose between two or more bad choices.

            I am blessed by the world those soldiers helped protect. It is hard for me to divorce myself from this country. I have lived in other countries; there is no place like this one.

            I like feeling safe. I like feeling free.

            I appreciate our policemen. I appreciate our military.

            When others risk much (including the possibility that they might be doing something morally wrong in the pursuit of doing what is right), with the result being I am safer and free, I cannot help but feel gratitude.

2. Someday, someone should write an updated theology of government. When you wake up and find yourself the most powerful government on earth, how do you handle that responsibility?

            I suspect it is similar to waking up and finding yourself receiving the responsibility of parenthood. You cannot serve without sinning; yet, to walk away from the responsibility is sinning.

3. Way to go Mavs! Way to beat Portland.

4. DeMarco Murray drafted by the Dallas Cowboys? Please! If he cannot stay healthy in college, how in the world will he in the NFL?

5. It was five years ago this week I began my ministry at Shiloh. I am grateful, and there is no other place on earth I would rather be.