What's in your pocket?

Picture the scene in your minds eye. It is a typical Sunday morning worship service, in a church like this one, on a day like today. The communion table is set – beautiful, as usual – the chalice, the loaf, candles lit on either side; the light shining on the table just right. The congregation settles down, back into their seats after the pastor has finished giving thanks over the Eucharist. The familiar words of the hymn just sung are still fresh in everybody’s minds. And all the people sit, in the cool of the sanctuary, as each awaits their turn to approach the Lord’s table; watching fellow church members walk solemnly forward, receive communion and returning to their seats. There are young and old, men and women, approaching the Altar; some with a spring in their step, some with knees aching and backs bowed by years of labor; some look upward expectantly, excitedly into the face of Jesus in the stained-glass window, some cast their eyes down to the floor, humble, serious, deep in thought or prayer.

Some of the congregation watch as old Mr. Jones walks from his usual pew – five rows from the back, left-hand side on the center aisle – to take his place at the altar rail. Everyone knows who he is; a member of this church since he was a baby, 72 years and counting; friendly, popular, respected; president of the bank; officer on the church council, trustee; generous with his money; always involved in mission work; never misses a Sunday. There is nothing really special about his appearance. Some watch him, casually, most distractedly look elsewhere. As Mr. Jones approaches the rail, he bends down to ease himself down on his knees. Suddenly, in one movement, the lapel of his tweed sport coat swings wide open, and toppling out of his well-worn, inside breast pocket falls a small flask of brown liquor. It hits the floor with a loud “clunk,” easily heard throughout the quiet sanctuary. Everyone hears it, even if only those at the Communion rail know what made the sound. Sacrilege … in CHURCH, of all places…. At the LORD’S TABLE!

The cat’s out of the bag, now. Red faced, Mr. Jones reaches out to collect the bottle, lying face up on the carpet in front of the small child kneeling beside him. In attempt to be helpful, Tom, the next closest adult reaches out, scoops up the bottle, and hands it, discretely, without fanfare to his elder friend, Mr. Jones, who is shaking pretty well now. To say he is embarrassed is putting it lightly – humiliated is how he feels. But as Jane, the lay leader assisting with communion stands before him, she makes solid eye contact and, with a smile of grace and sensitivity on her face, places the small piece of bread in his sweating palm. She holds it there and speaks the solemn words, “This is the body of Christ, given for you.”


Do you think that could happen in your church?
Do you think there haven’t been times when people brought something “unacceptable” into the church, into worship? It happens all the time? It may not occur so blatantly, so obviously; but it happens. Whether we mean to or not, we all carry with us those unsightly secrets about ourselves we don’t want others to know. We bring them to church, we bring them to work, we bring them to school, we bring them home. Sometimes they tumble out of our pockets, and our darkest secrets are exposed. Mostly we seem able, through years of practice, to keep our vices, our embarrassments, our secrets secret.

Why did Mr. Jones’ bottle come tumbling out? Was it an accident? Was it carelessness from years hiding that he no longer had to think about? Was it, subconsciously, a call for help? Did he want to confess a drinking problem, want to ask for support to quit? Was it, unintentionally, a sign of inner pain no one new Mr. Jones was feeling? Loneliness, grief, depression, illness?

Our first reaction probably is that it is inappropriate to bring such things into a church, let alone a church at worship. But I want to suggest that it is not. Because we all bring with us these things about ourselves that may be ugly, that are bad for us, that are ruining or making less of our lives; that we try to hide from the world, but we can’t hide them from God, and maybe we should not hide them from each other. Where else is a better place for the wounds, the brokenness, the pain, the sins of our lives than the Lord’s Table? Whether we bring them to worship to confess them and bring them to light and ask for deliverance from them, or we bring them because we haven’t quite figured out they are wrong for us at least we are bringing our authentic selves, the good and the bad, “warts and all,” we are bringing them into the presence of God and into the presence of each other, “This is who I am.”

And God and the rest of us are here to receive you, to gather with you as you gather with us and receive us. We are here to notice when things fall out of each other’s pockets, not to judge and cast stones, as if we were without our own embarrassing stains, and not divert our eyes, not pretend it didn’t happen. But to look into each other’s eyes, aware of each other’s shame and humiliation, and try to reassure each other and say, “This, this gathering, this congregation, this is the body of Christ for you. Don’t be embarrassed. We all have our dark places. God loves us. Jesus forgives us. You are among friends.”


 
Most of you know I recently attended our Annual Conference, that yearly gathering of Western NC United Methodists at Lake Junaluska. Many of you ask how was Conference. And it was fine. That’s how I answer. It’s a meeting. It’s fun to see friends I don’t see much of except at Conference. It’s fun to sleep in a noisy, old boarding house without air conditioning (where I stay) and walk to the different sessions each day. But it’s a business meeting. You do a lot of sitting and listening. People make speeches that are too long. It’s important to be able to vote approval of the conference business – budgets, committees, etc. – but most of the time we are putting a rubber stamp on what other people have done properly. It’s a pain to pay for the costs and the time of the Conference, to be away from home for a meeting that seems so inefficiently run – when you want to just get the business overwith and get on with life! And you begin to think, ‘Couldn’t we just “mail this in?”’ Couldn’t we save everyone a lot of time, expense, and inconvenience with a big conference call?

But the essential thing about Methodist conferencing is, meeting is most of the point. Being together. Annual Conference, like Christian worship, can’t properly be done alone, by teleconference or by television. There are a lot of great preachers on TV, and they are a great source of inspiration, and if you can’t leave home that’s all a lot of people have for worship.
But Christians need to be together. (That’s why churches need to visit their shut ins!!!!)

Christians-being-together is the half the point. Together we greet, support, show concern, feel loved. We rub up against each other, irritate each other. We are present when things fall out of our pockets, when we intend or not to let others see our raw, vulnerable sides. We are here not to judge, but to recognize the brokenness in you is like the brokenness in me and Jesus loves us both anyway. We can’t do those things alone. And we can’t do it if we brush the dirt under the rug and pretend it never happened or it isn’t there.

Maybe it is that vulnerability, maybe it is that prospect of leaving ourselves open to that intensely personal closeness that makes people avoid church. Maybe it is also what draws people in, what people seek in church, in a world where we search for authenticity, where we crave “reality”.” At its best, the church ought to provide the ability to be ourselves without trying, without masks; it gives us the opportunity to meet others who are also real, a place where we can all be ourselves.



What’s in your pocket? What are you hiding? What do you bring with you into the sanctuary, into God’s house you don’t want others to know about? What things do you carry here with you that don’t seem “proper” for God’s house. Is it something embarrassing? Something not quite acceptable in “polite company?”

We’ve all got them. But what better place for us to bring them than here, in the presence of God, in the presence of Christ’s body?

This sermon can be heard by podcast at http://revbob.podbean.com/2010/07/28/july-4-2010/