MEANS OF GRACE
By Michael Herzog, Lay Speaker

I have probably always been a visual thinker.  When I was in school I could visualize abstract relationships.  When I took a test I could call up an image of the appropriate page in the book and find the answer.  As an engineer I would look at a structure and see stress points and moments of inertia.  Thinking about chemical reactions I could visualize how certain compounds might combine.  I still see pictures when I think.

The prophet Joel said, "Your young men shall see visions and your old men shall dream dreams."  I may not be quite the age of Simeon and Anna in today's Gospel reading, but I'm of a dreaming age.  And I am interested in the idea of means of grace.  How to get in touch with God's unconditional, unearned, unwarranted -- love.  I have an image in my mind of being surrounded and upheld by God's grace.  Immersed in God's love -- buoyed up as if I were afloat in a warm salty sea -- I just can't sink.   Graced. Supported.  Buoyed up by God's love. 

I don't know what it is about that passage from Luke about the presentation of the baby Jesus at the Temple in Jerusalem that brings up such a strong visual image for me -- but it does. 

This was Herod's Temple.  Herod's grand project to replace the second temple with a monument to God -- and, at the same time -- to himself.  Not to mention keeping the Jewish population of Roman-occupied Palestine distracted. 

I imagine the ceremonies taking place in some side chapel or outer courtyard of the Temple. The ritualistic purification of Mary who was considered "unclean" after the birth was accomplished with the sacrifice of two small birds -- the suitable sacrifice for a poor woman who could not afford to sacrifice a lamb. 

And Joseph made a money sacrifice to redeem the baby.  First-born males were considered holy and to belong to God and thus had to be bought back.  The redemption was bought with five shekels -- the wages for three weeks work. 

The rituals of purification and redemption didn't even have to take place in the Temple.  But in the Gospel writer's vision, he sees them all there -- the Holy Family, the prophets, the priests.   It is quiet, I imagine.  Not as opulent as the inner priestly holy places, but solemn and respectful.  Light comes from smoky oil lamps.  But there is some other source of light too -- a golden light.  No sound other than  chanted response.  A scribe is there to ask questions and make a record.  A minor priest or temple worker officiates.  There is liturgy.  There are prayers.  This is a religious ceremony -- not just a business transaction. 

Mary and Joseph were pious Jews, practicing their religion and living out their part in the covenant with God.  "I will be your God and you will be my people."   For them the Temple was where God was. They went there to experience the presence of God.  Mary and Joseph came to put themselves and their child under the protection of God.  To be touched by God's grace.  These rituals represented a means of grace for the family.  Obeying God's laws fulfilled their part of the Covenant and ensured that Yahweh would be their God.

Today is a First Sunday.  You can't get any more FIRST than the first day of the first month of a new year.  First Sunday for us means it is a Communion Sunday.  A sacramental occasion.

We define a Sacrament as an outward and visible sign of an inward and invisible grace.  Holy Communion is one of those means of grace to put us in touch with God's great love.



John Wesley -- whom we revere as the founder of Methodism was a God-centered,  God-driven man. The essence of John Wesley's Aldersgate experience -- having his heart strangely warmed -- was experiencing God's grace in his life.   Wesley wrote often about Means of Grace.  He includes:   Prayer, Fasting, Acts of Mercy, Study of Scripture, The Lord's Supper, and Spiritual Conferencing -- which was his way of saying Community.  We have an opportunity to experience one of those means of grace this morning in Holy Communion. 

My goal  had been to preach about the theology behind Holy Communion and how it all fits together with the Methodist view of the universe.  The United Methodist Church Global Board of Discipleship has published papers on Baptism and Holy Communion.  This Holy Mystery: A United Methodist Understanding of Holy Communion runs forty pages.  But, about two pages into the document I knew I was over my head in the theology department -- and besides I wasn't at all sure I agreed with some of the conclusions.   (Disagreement is VERY Methodist.)  So instead of trying to pass along information I don't fully understand I've decided just to do a little witnessing.  To say what Communion means to me.  Many of the most important discoveries I've made about my relationship with God have come out of community -- hearing the stories of my fellow spiritual travelers.  We are God's gift to each other in our spiritual journey -- we're not meant to go it alone.  We need a little help from our friends.

I grew up in the Evangelical and Reformed Church in the Midwest.  The ER combined with the Congregational Church in 1957 and is now part of the United Church of Christ.  It was pretty much a mainline middle of the road sort of church.  It was the tradition in the early 1950s however for persons not to take part in Communion until they had some understanding of the sacrament.  I remember being invited to my first Communion after being  confirmed at age thirteen.
Part of that Communion policy may have had to do with the fact that in the Evangelical and Reformed Church, wine -- fermented juice of the grape -- was one of the elements.  We were familiar with wine -- we had Manechevitz or Mogan David with our Thanksgiving dinner.   But the Communion bread was something else --  peculiar poker chip-looking wafer things -- not like any bread I'd ever seen. 

I remember being disappointed at my first Communion.  I had been baptized just before Confirmation.  And it was a very emotional experience for me.  Our pastor was my best friend's dad.  My reaction to Baptism was extreme.  I wept.  My legs went rubbery.  And for a thirteen year old boy to cry in front of other thirteen year old boys was extreme embarrassment -- but I did.  I couldn't help it.

First Communion however was a disappointment. I didn't FEEL anything.  Was I supposed to?  In baptism there was the touch of Rev's hand on my head.  The feel of the water trickling down my neck.  I shivered.  I was touched. 

In my first Communion the elements were passed down the pew.  No touch.  Hygienic. Sterile.  There was a brass service tray with the thimbles of amber Virginia Dare wine and a platter with the funny little poker chips of bread.

There was solemn liturgy -- words -- but I didn't feel anything.

Afterward, we goofy boys giggled and pretended to be drunk on a teaspoon of wine and we made faces at the dissolving chip of bread -- but we didn't get it.

I have to assume that in our nine months of Confirmation classes Rev explained the Reformed Church's views on the Lord's Supper -- but it didn't take.

After all these years, I'm beginning to get it.  I was looking for an individual experience and Communion happens in COMMUNITY -- changes are a reordering of the body.

One of the images of Communion I have is a sand sculpture -- perhaps you've seen them.  There are layers of different colored sand between sheets of glass that are rearranged by passing through a narrow place in the sculpture. The sculpture begins as a diverse body that comes together to pass through the funnel and changed afterward -- there are still the same individual particles of sand, but the whole is changed by the experience.

In Communion, we are all ever afterward united -- we have taken part in a common meal and some part of that common meal becomes part of us -- some molecules of that bread and wine becomes part of us all.  We are changed --  we are unified in some physical way and in a spiritual way as well because we share also in the One Spirit.  And what we share spiritually is what fellow Christians have shared for centuries.  We are connected to everyone who has ever come to this table -- to everyone who ever will.  That is an _expression of the mystery.  Christ has died.  Christ is risen.  Christ will come again.

We have worship.  Prayer. Holy Communion.  All means of Grace.  Grace surrounds us -- always.  The world teaches us resist the idea of grace.  The world says we are entitled only to what we earn.  But grace is unearned.  And we can open ourselves to grace -- seek out means of grace.

Earlier in the service we sang my favorite hymn "Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing."   Right in the first line it says "Tune my heart to sing thy grace."




And that's what we can do -- tune our hearts -- put ourselves in the way of experiencing God's grace -- increase our sensitivity to the grace that is there . . . always.  The means of grace are all around us.  And, Grace is . . . unavoidable.

For that I say, Praise God -- and AMEN!