A table of Faith and Forgiveness.
“What do you miss most, in these days and weeks of lockdown and social distance?”
I miss to be social. I miss to be able to interact with people, to hug, to handshake, to visit and to sit at a table and enjoy coffee or dinner with more than my closest family. These weeks I cook and bake more than usual. I love to cook, and I love sharing food at a table with family and friends. And one of the positive effects of Corona Lockdown is that we do get to cook more at home, eat at home and share meals with our close family members. These weeks it is truly dinners for the chosen few in our households. And I am daily reminded of the simple prayer of Danish poet Benny Andersen:
Giv mig idag mit brød at smore
Blodt og strengt skal mødes I mine hænder
Og smørrets solskin overvælde brødets mørke
Lad mig røre ved det vi lever af
brunt brød, gult smør og kærlighed.
Give me today my daily bread to butter
Soft and solid shall meet in my hands
And the sunshine of the butter
shall overcome the darkness of the bread.
Let me touch what we live by:
Brown bread, yellow butter and love.
I miss being social. I miss sharing coffee and meals.
I miss sharing communion at church. This sacrament is truly at the center of our Sunday Services: that time during seated service, to get up from your safe pew, walk up the aisle and kneel at the altar together with all the other worshippers. Together.
For years we have celebrated Maundy Thursday in a very special manner here at the Danish Lutheran Church. We have met for a short worship service centered around the Commandment to serve and love and the sacrament of Holy Communion; and then we have immediately following the service, walked from the church through the hallway and into the fellowship hall. In the hall we were all met by a beautiful sight and wonderful spicy smells of garlic, rosemary and lemon.
We were all invited to be seated at the long purple table of unity, set with one long piece of purple velvet and gracefully decorated with yellow daffodils. This purple table of Maundy Thursday always moved me. The beauty of the colors, the symbolism of being seated at one long table draped with one piece of tablecloth.
When we were seated, we celebrated Holy Communion. With bread and wine. Seated together, side by side, elbow by elbow, heart by heart, human by human. Silently we passed the chalice with wine and the bread to be broken and shared.
And then we prayed:
Our Father in Heaven,
Hallowed by your name….
Through these simple words, through this simple act, through this beloved sacrament, we were together. Not only us at the table, but with generations before us… we were united through time and history – and we seated at the same table of Christ and his disciples when they first celebrated the Last Supper together.
And then…. Then we ate and drank! Then we enjoyed a delicious spicy loving prepared meal of meaningful dishes: Lemon chicken, Garlic Lamb, Orange Leek Salad, Dried Fruit Compote, bitter herbs, fresh baked bread and good Middelterraiain wine.
It was and has all the years been a wonderful meal and a wonderful evening full of meaning, food, wine, and togetherness.
The long purple table has been and is a feast of faith and forgiveness and grace. At that table we are reminded how depended we are of others and Gods saving grace.
We live by the relations that might heal our brokenness.
We live by the words that might forgive our failures and shortcomings.
We live by the warm shoulders to lean that might encourage us to keep believing.
We live by the eyes that truly do see us as just as we are and still loves us.
We live by the fellowship we feel among friends and families. We live by the bond we share with our communities and churches.
We live by the words of forgiveness that is given to us through wine and bread.
In these days of uncertainty and health crisis, in these days of fear, we long to share communion together again, we long to kneel close together with friends and congregation, we long to share our faith, hope, prayers and humanity at the table of Christ. The table of faith, forgiveness and grace.
Once again, I have to quote a few words from the beautiful speech given by General Loewenheilm in the marvelous novel “Babette’s Feast” by Karen Blixen. Read the book or enjoy the wonderful movie. This is the story about a feast, a sacred meal and lifechanging encounters.
“Mercy and truth, my friends, have met together. Righteousness and bliss shall kiss one another.
Grace, my friends, demands nothing from us but that we shall await it with confidence and acknowledge it in gratitude. Grace, brothers, makes no conditions and singles out none of us; grace takes us all to its bosom and proclaims general amnesty. See! That which we have chosen is given us, and that which we have refused is, also and at the same time, granted us. Ay, that which we have rejected is poured upon us abundantly.
For mercy and truth have met and righteousness and bliss have kissed one another.”
This year we will not be seated at the purple table. But I do encourage you at home to imagine that you are there. Right here and now. Together. You and me. Me and you. Us. Together. Because that is the wonder of that meal and that sacrament, that it defies time and distance. We can meet at the purple table tonight, - because we are once again listening to the words that constituted that night and made that meal like no other meal.
We usually remember that meal at every service here at the Danish Church. We gather at the altar, kneel and receive the bread and wine. Or we walk up to the altar, receive bread and dip it in wine.
So, tonight, despite being apart, despite abiding rules of social distance and careful consideration, - we are still at the same table. Being at the same table. Being invited to the same table, being welcomed at the same table, - that is the center of communion.
At that table we share our humanity, our fears, our joys, our hopes and our prayers.
At this table we are in God’s hands and at the heart of Christ.
So come to the table, where all are invited, and all are welcome.
This was just a cup filled with wine
this was just ordinary bread, baked for guests
until Jesus took them, took and drank from the cup, even though it was his cup of pain, filled with the agony of the world; took and broke the bread – even though his body was too young to be broken.
WE long to meet at the table of faith and forgivness. And we will soon.
Peace be with all of us! Amen.