APRIL 13, 2006 PASTOR SCOTT FULLER
Jeremiah 31:31-34; Psalm 51:1-12; Hebrews 5:5-10; John 12:20-33
Be Our Guest
Prepare our hearts, Lord, to receive your Word. Silence in us any voice but your own that in hearing we may believe and in believing we may obey your will revealed to us in Jesus Christ. Amen.
Dear friends in Christ: Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
There were more silver utensils, white china plates and crystal goblets than I have ever before seen at a banquet. The dining room was filled with some 2,000 people – a few of us civilians wore tuxedos that were crisply pressed or evening gowns that sparkled and flowed. But the vast majority there were proudly arrayed in their flashy “mess dress” uniforms.
We were invited to be guests at the Air Force Academy’s Ring Ceremony banquet simply because our son, Mark, was in charge of it. It was an honor to be included among those hearty and wholesome Cadets, as well as the collection of brass at the head table and throughout the banquet hall.
And though we clean up pretty well and managed to dress the part, Rachel, Carolyn and I still felt a little like imposters. The truth is that we were absolute novices about military protocol: whom to greet, how and when; not to mention our ignorance about the rules of formal dining.
One moment in particular defined our dilemma. At a certain point in the meal, everyone stood for “the toasts.” We first raised our glasses to...His Excellency, the King of Bulgaria…I kid you not. I raised an eyebrow at my son…which was noticed by his commanding officer directly across the table. But class act that he is, Major Szerer whispered, One of our students is from Bulgaria. Then the light dawned, and I understood why we went on to toast the kings, prime ministers and excellencies of 20 different countries…
Some of you read our daughter’s guest greeting in last month’s newsletter. There she reported some very similar sentiments about her experience in France regarding their rules for eating and greeting. Rachel writes,
I get up with Brigitte,
my host mom, to help clear the table for dessert - her movements are always
filled with energy and efficiency, visible in everything from brushing her
daughter’s hair with quick decisive strokes, to discussing religion, with
precise, exact words. I have to hurry to keep up with her, so I pull the
dessert plates out of the white cabinet and quickstep it back to the dining room
(no one runs in France; it's not dignified).
In the doorway, I hesitate. In France "la politesse" (politeness and respect)
is of the utmost importance and is given special emphasis at the
dinner table: the seating of guests, who is served first, keeping wine
glasses
filled. All this is part of a subtle and complicated dance of respect in
which the native francais move with grace and precision. I can't remember if
distributing dessert plates is part of this exchange or not, but I have
learned from experience that it is better to err on the side of caution and
make my way towards our guest du jour, Pere duPas.
The priest is an old friend of the family. When I met him earlier today, I was
struck by the sweetness in his expression as he leaned towards me with a twinkle
in his eye and said, "Bonjour mademoiselle, vous etes l'americaine, n'est-ce
pas?" I smiled and, hesitating as always, leaned in to give the traditional
French greeting, "les bisous." This consists of a kiss on both cheeks, or just
one, or twice each, depending on where in the country you find yourself. The
French insist that there are no rules to when, where, or how many times one
gives les bisou, but there are, of course. The French are simply unaware of
them as rules.
Now at times, I find great meaning and blessing in experiences where great care is given to everything from the place settings at the table to the ways people are greeted to the meanings behind actions and words.
It reminds me of my Senior Math teacher in high school. Mr. Gooden always pushed us to dress nicely on days when we had to take tests or give speeches at school. It changes the way you think and it will help you do better, he assured the class, and many of us believed him.
At the same time, though, this makes me wonder about the unspoken rules that govern the way we “do” church. Imagine yourself new to this congregation. Some questions you might ponder: When do we stand? Where can we sit? How do we know if we are among the guests invited to share in the Lord’s Supper?
But, you know, in a very real sense, that is exactly what our meal on this special night is all about…who in the world deserves to be a guest? In a very real sense, the answer is nobody…and everybody! I mean, take a look at Jesus’ original guest list: Judas who betrayed him, Peter who denied him, Thomas who doubted him, and all the rest, none of whom, in the end, understood or believed him.
Yet there they were…and here we are. This is where we belong, each and every one in this room, as well as each and every one out there in the world – each of us is a guest of honor, someone whom the Lord has invited to attend this important but fairly informal feast.
Everything to be served is already on the table. We don’t have to worry about which course to serve when or which fork to use with the proper dish. We don’t even have to worry about what we wear, whether we kneel or stand, whether we keep heads bowed or lift up our faces and smile.
Says Jesus, along with the disciples, and with all the hosts of heaven, to all people who are hungry for God’s great gift of grace: Be our guest! Amen.