Brick-Upon-Brick

PROPERS:          PROPER 18, YEAR A 

TEXT:                 EXODUS 12:1-14

PREACHED AT ST. PAUL’S, MAGNOLIA SPRINGS, ON SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 10, 2017.

ONE SENTENCE:        The meal which we share today recreates God’s act of deliverance 3,200 years ago; it is still a meal of deliverance.

                                   

            “How is this night different from others?” the youngest child asks the family gathered ‘round the family table.

            It is a special night, for sure.  The night is 15 Nisan in the Jewish calendar, and it has been commemorated for 3,200 years.

            It is the Passover of the Lord.

            The family of the young child is celebrating the Seder – the Passover meal.

            Its initial observance is recorded in our first lesson today.  The people of Israel were still in captivity in Egypt.  But not for long. Moses had gone toe-to-toe with Pharaoh and the powers and principalities in Egypt.  And since the heart of Pharaoh had been hardened, on that first Passover night, the destroyer would wind its way through the streets and homes of Egypt.

            In its wake, all the first-born of Egypt would be dead – human and animal.

            But not the Israelites.  Their doorposts were marked by the blood of the pascal lamb, and, inside each home, the families would be gathered for the meal of God’s deliverance from bondage.

            The Israelites were reminded: “This day shall be a day of remembrance for you.  You shall celebrate it as a festival to the Lord; throughout your generations you shall observe it as a perpetual ordinance.”

+ + +

            That story is the response the young child receives in answer to the question, “How is this night different from others?”  It is a story of deliverance.

            It echoes down through the millennia.

+ + +

            We learn from the gospels according to Matthew, Mark, and Luke, Jesus was gathered with his disciples for the Passover meal on the night of his betrayal – some 1,200 years after the first Passover.

            It was on that night – in that gathering with the 12 – that the meaning of the Seder was transformed for those who would later be called Christians. The Seder became for Christians the Holy Eucharist.

            Jesus became the Passover lamb – the lamb without blemish.  His body became the bread.

            His blood became the wine that is consumed in that meal.

            “This is my body which is given for you… This is my blood which is shed for you.”

            Over the years of Christian practice, the cup became the chalice; the plate became the paten; the napkin became the purificator; the placemat became the corporal; the tablecloth became the fair linen.

            Thirty-two-hundred years later, we Christians observe this meal of deliverance.

+ + +

            Our youngest children, like the youngest child sitting at the Passover table, may ask about the morsel of bread and the sip of wine: “How is this different?”

            Through human eyes – prone to see only the elements of this sacrament – we may see merely a cup of wine and a cardboard-like piece of bread.  It may not be different. Other than the terms we use, it seems fairly ordinary.

            But… but… but…

+ + +

            Years ago, I wrestled in seminary – not too differently from the way Jacob wrestled with the angel.  As my thin patina of naïve faith had been resurfaced by an asphalt-like coat of theological questioning, I asked a classmate why any of it made any difference?

            She looked at me and said words I will never forget: “David, because lives are changed.”

+ + +

            Faith… like understanding… is strengthened with hindsight.

+ + +

            I can look back on my own life and see how this sip of wine and morsel of bread have been – though I did not know it at the time – my viaticum, provisions for the journey.

            I can look in the rearview mirror and see how those moments of silence… those fragments of prayer… and this sacred, reenacted meal have been tokens of deliverance as tangible and real as the first Passover meal.

            I can recall how anxiety… worry… ambivalence about career track… questions about self-worth… overwhelmed my life for years.  In the silence of my heartfelt prayers, I could sense this calmness at the eye of the storm.  And I would go – I would go again and again to the altar, reaching my hand out for that bit of bread, and pursing my lips for a few drops of wine.

            Like placing brick-upon-brick ultimately builds a solid structure, the cumulative total of those encounters with God brought me deliverance, for which I give thanks today.

            More remarkably, I have seen it in other people’s lives.  That is one of the joys of being in this vocation: seeing deliverance take root in another person’s life.

            I have seen friends delivered from resentment.

            I have witnessed friends delivered from anger.

            I have rejoiced as friends were delivered from alcohol and drugs.

            I have seen friends overcome untruthfulness, deceit, and manipulation.

            I have seen lives go from “anything goes” to a life of moral integrity.

            I have seen friends die at peace with themselves and with the world around them.

+ + +

            From what do you need deliverance this day?

+ + +

            We are like the Israelites, who gathered round their family tables 3,200 years ago.  Our opportunity for deliverance has come.  Eat this sacred meal, the Israelites are told, and be ready to go.

            Our table is different.  Our meal is more symbolic than tangible.  But your opportunity for deliverance has come.  Eat this sacred meal – the bread and the wine, and be ready to be delivered.