Perspective on the Prodigal

Here we are, nearing the end of lent. One of the lenten practices that I've taken up is preaching on the Psalms in the lectionary, rather than the gospel passage. It has been a good practice, and I have been stretched. Another of my lenten practices, though not publicly announced, was going to be to write more. Alas, I have not been able to work that into my crazy schedule. BUT, I was thankful to have been asked to speak/preach/whatever at another church for their Thursday night Lenten service last night. They have been focusing on the story of the "Prodigal Son" as told in Luke's gospel. They asked me to speak from the perspective of the people in the countryside, the community. So many times, I've read the passage and put myself in the place of the younger son, the older son, and the father; but never in the place of the neighbors. It was a fun exercise. Here's what I wrote: 

I don’t know if any of you have been to first century Palestine, but I hear it’s a different world than this one in which we live. In a Jewish community such as this one, people held tightly to codes of honor and shame, and to the demarcation of clean and unclean. This son, this selfish one, who had dishonored his father by having the audacity to ask for his inheritance early, by walking away from his home and family, and heaven forbid, traveling to a foreign land <keep in mind that in this context, foreign does not imply exotic as it might for us here today, rather it implies other, different, wrong, and scary>.  This boy might as well have SHAME and UNCLEAN written on his forehead and any other exposed part of him, so that good, observant Jewish people might know that if they see him, they should run the other way. Jesus sets this story up to let us know that this son has committed the worst kind of sin, against God, against his family, and against his community. Today, we hear the story from the perspective of a neighbor, a member of the community who was invited to join in the celebration…

  

It’s not often that somebody just throws a party around here, right out of the blue. So imagine my surprise, when one of the young servants of the rich guy down the street came running down the road shouting, “come one, come all, it’s a celebration. The master has ordered the fatted calf to be killed. It’s a party to beat all parties. Gather your wives, your daughters, your sons, and even your servants, and come join in the celebration!”

Well, who can resist such an invitation? So I did it, I gathered all the members of my household and a couple of our best skins of wine, and off we went, heading to the party, all the while wondering what could possibly warrant such an extravagant, unplanned celebration. There were many people already gathered when we arrived, and the house was all a buzz, so it was a while before we saw him.

He looked different, more worldly, less proper, he LOOKED like a foreigner. What a disgrace! I once considered him an excellent prospect to marry my youngest daughter. Now I see him as a threat to our community. I heard he worked among pigs, for God’s sake, the worst kind of unclean there is, you can’t just wash that off. It is a filth that goes all the way to the soul. Only a miracle from God can cleanse the soul of one who has strayed so far.

I find it hard to celebrate, difficult to loosen up. The music was lively and people were dancing. What was wrong with them? The wine flowed freely, and the food...oh, the food. Killing the fatted calf? This is a luxury reserved for only the most decadent occasion. It’s something big, something worthy of a gathering of the whole community. 

 Oh, I get it. It’s like when a woman is caught in adultery, and we take her into the town square and everybody comes out to watch and participate in her punishment. There’s a place, alongside the road on the way into town, where you can pick up the best rocks. I didn’t realize that’s what this was. I didn’t pick up any stones along the way. That’s ok, we’ll just watch, there are a lot of people here, I’m sure others came prepared. I’ll just stand back a little with my family, taking the time to make sure that the lesson really sinks in with them. You just don’t dishonor your father, and take off into distant lands, squandering away his money, bringing dishonor to his name, living a lewd and careless life. There are consequences, and today, we will witness those consequences. I’m glad the family saw fit to feed the crowd first, that was an added touch of class that we don’t usually experience at these, um…events.

After a while, when it seems like most of the guests have arrived, the master of the house came to the center of the house and asked everybody to gather around. He had been absent for a while, some say that he was outside consoling his oldest son. Maybe he was embarrassed, feeling like his own honor had been stripped away, a sort  of guilt by association. Or perhaps he loved his brother just enough, that he was distraught about his upcoming public punishment. Whatever it was, that boy never did come in and join the party.

So, here we are, gathered in the great room, the father calls his son over to him. It wasn’t until now that I noticed that he is wearing one of his father’s robes, his sandals, and even a family ring. I have to say, I’ve never seen this done in quite this way. It reminds me of the stories that I learned in synagogue growing up. Who were those guys…Shem and Japheth, took a robe and covered their father’s nakedness to regain his honor and save face for the family. But wait, there are other stories about covering nakedness that I recall, that aren’t so much about damage control, as they are about bestowing honor as if it is deserved.

Yes, it’s coming to me, I recall now that in Exodus, there are elaborate instructions for making a robe and adornments for Moses to put on Aaron, to show that he is chosen, anointed, ordained. I’m just not sure that story applies here. What was the other one? Oh that’s right! It was the prophet Ezekiel, speaking as God to God’s people, saying I see that you are old enough to be loved, to be in relationship with me, and I wrap my robe around you, to cover you and make you mine.

I have to say I don’t really understand what is going on here. The actions that are being taken, the words that are being used, are familiar. But they aren’t the words and actions of punishment and shame. They are the words and actions of forgiveness, grace, mercy, and the unconditional love of a father for his child. The words that father spoke still echo in my head today. “For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found. Let us celebrate!”

The words play over and over again in my head, along with the words I spoke myself. Only a miracle of God can cleanse the soul of one who has strayed so far. Dead and alive again. Lost and now found. A miracle of God. A soul that has been washed clean. A broken family that has been made whole. Praise God from whom all blessings flow!

I learned a lesson that day that has been with me ever since. My God, the One whose laws I strive to follow, the One whose praises I sing, and to whom I cry out in my time of need; THAT God, MY God, does indeed work miracles. How could I not celebrate with shouts of joy and a dance of praise? You and I, who are sometimes lost, are found, over and over again. You and I, who wander off into the land of the dead, failing to live in the abundance and simplicity of the life that has been given to us, are brought back to life, over and over again. You and I, whose souls get dingy and dirty from the influences of the world around us, have been washed clean, each and every time we have chosen to turn back to the light.

I am changed, I am made new. These things that were foreign to me, grace and mercy, compassion and unconditional love; they are contagious! Not only did I feel a change in myself that day, but I saw it in my neighbors. This display of forgiveness, this restoration, has given us all a renewed sense of hope and expectation.

I pray that it will catch on for you too, there is nothing more glorious than celebrating with God and neighbor the victory of life over death, wholeness over brokenness, salvation over shame. May God’s Spirit so fill your heart with grace and love, that there is no longer room for judgment and division. May you live today in the knowledge that God’s mercy can and will lift you and ANYBODY else who desires, out of the pit of sin and despair, to be restored to your rightful place of honor, a beloved child of God! This is my story, and this is my prayer. Amen. 

The Traveling Table

Tonight I got out my handy dandy communion kit, a gift from my favorite mother-in-law, and I went to visit someone in the hospital. I carefully (and prayerfully) prepared it before going, tearing the bread, real bread, not styrofoam wafers, and putting it in the little container. I counted the pieces as I tore, knowing that I was going to serve one or two, and myself, but somehow feeling like maybe six pieces would be enough. I poured the grape juice from the big bottle into the fancy little flask, wondering if the nurses might think that I was smuggling in vodka or something. I suppose I should add that the patient I was going to visit is currently in the behavioral health unit of the hospital, so the items brought in and out are under great scrutiny.

As we entered the unit, I introduced myself as a pastor to the nurse who greeted us and I asked if it would be okay for me to bring in the communion elements and serve communion to the person I came to visit. The nurse indicated that she thought it would be okay, but that she needed to ask  somebody else. From down the hall, I heard bits and pieces of the conversation and watched the person in charge (presumably) look down the hall at me. Then I heard her say something that sounded like “why not, they could probably all use it.” Well, ain’t that the truth? They could all probably use it, as could we. You, me, the nurses, the visitors, it seems that we could all use a little bread of life and cup of blessing today, and everyday really.

After chatting with the person I came to visit, serving her communion, and praying with her; we went out into the common area. I expressed to one of the other ladies sitting there that I had prayed for her at the request of the person I was speaking with before. She began to tell me about her conversation with the hospital chaplain that she had spoken to a few days back. She said that she had asked if they might be able to bring her communion, and they told her they didn’t really know the schedule for communion for the week, but they might not be able to get it to her while she was there. She seemed sad about that, so I said “I brought communion and I would be happy to serve you”. Her eyes lit up and she said “yes, but I’m not Catholic”, I replied “that’s okay, neither am I”. We left the common area to find a quiet place to talk, share communion, and pray together.

Our talk revealed that we have much in common; our denomination, faith journeys, kids, previous marriage, coming out, homeschooling…it was odd, really, how much we shared in common. We easily chatted about the day to day activity of God in our lives, and what it means to have an amazing church family. We talked about the blessings of big churches and small churches, liberal churches and conservative churches, and the way that we have seen God present and working in all of them.

While we sat chatting, a young lady kept walking by, as if she wanted to say something, but hadn’t worked up the courage yet. Finally, she asked if she could talk to me. As we sat down together, she said “What do I do, I don’t know if I tell you what’s wrong with me or what?” She shared what she felt were her demons, the things that had gripped her and wouldn’t let go. They were fears and hurts and physical pain all rolled up into something that was taking over her life. We prayed and we shared communion. Then visiting hours ended and the nurse came to escort  me out.

Six pieces of bread. Three beautiful people, each willing to let me in, to share their lives and share communion with me. A call from God to invite the people to the table and to bring the table to the people. How blessed am I?

At Table of Grace, we talk so much about our open table, the fact that anybody can come. But tonight I am reminded that the table is not just open for the sake of having people come to the table. The table is open as a means of opening our lives to one another and to God. What a beautiful, sacred, scary gift it is, the responsibility to bear one another’s burdens, to face one another’s demons, to live life together. Every week at Table of Grace, when I serve communion to the people in our congregation, I am humbled and honored to be allowed to share such a deeply personal and spiritual moment with people. Tonight, after having taken communion out, in my handy dandy communion kit, I feel all the more privileged to be able to share God with God’s people through bread and cup. Thanks be to God.  

Thankfulness

Today I attended our Community Thanksgiving Service here in Jefferson City. It was a bit of a milestone moment for me, because I was asked to participate in the service by choosing and reading the lection from the Hebrew Bible. No big deal, it would seem to most, I’m sure. However, to be quite honest, it was a big deal. It was a big deal because somebody took the time to invite us to participate.

Quite honestly, there are many in the local Christian Community who would much prefer that we didn’t exist. But, as it turns out, there are also many who are glad that we are here, and who are willing to risk their reputation on making sure that we are included. And those same few people keep going out of their way to be sure that we get invited. For that, I am thankful. And the way that extension of welcome warms my heart reminds me that it is that kind of welcome to which God calls us all, and specifically the kind of radical welcome for which God has called Table of Grace into existence.

I am thankful for our call to radical welcome. I think the welcome part is easy. We’re a friendly bunch, happy to have a new friend pop in every now and then. I used to get a bit offended when I heard the words “radical welcome” because they suggested to me that someone could be so unworthy of our welcome, that to extend such welcome would in fact be “radical” (thoroughgoing or extreme, especially as regards change from accepted or traditional forms

, according to dictionary.com). Well really, who are we to suggest that someone is so outside of the normal realm of welcome that they belong in the radical category?  I should tell you that I also have a pretty deep rooted issue with the biblical language of “the least of these.” Those words make me cringe any time I hear them. Ponder that for a moment.

So, since I have determined that radical welcome can’t mean that to me…it can’t mean that there are certain persons in this world who would only be worthy of radical welcome. I’ve spent some time considering what else it might mean to me. I think the radical part of radical welcome is more about stick-to-it-ive-ness, than about the inherent worth of the person being welcomed. It is all about the ability of the community not just to invite somebody in, but rather, to stick with them when they figure out that just like us, they got issues!

And really, these days, who has time for other people’s crap? I’m sorry, did that sound harsh? Maybe, but it’s truthful, right? We all need people around us who require the least possible amount of our time and attention, because we are already spread way too thin. So, new friends, new community members are good, as long as they don’t require a lot of stamina on our parts. Sometimes I watch the attitude creep into the gathering space at ToG. It’s rare, but it does occasionally happen, and it makes me sad. But then I see the magic. I see the light go on, the twinkle in people’s eyes, when they come back around. People step back for a moment and it’s as if they say to themselves “THIS is what the Kingdom of Heaven looks like. “ Well, okay, I usually say that, but maybe there aren’t a whole lot of other folks at ToG regularly using kingdom of heaven language in their thought life…

Anyway, people push through, and it’s a beautiful thing. It’s the point in a relationship where the person who was originally the welcomee realizes that these people are for real. It’s the point where people who have heard for years about unconditional love, but never experienced it; begin to ask themselves if it could really be so. It’s the point where we let God, who lives within each of us, come out to play. If we know anything from our sacred texts, and from our faith tradition, it is that our God is a God of steadfast love and grace. No matter how many times we walk out on God and on each other, God remains. God waits, lets us throw our tantrums, lets us have our way, lets us wreck our relationships; and stands there waiting with open arms for us to give up and come back.

That, my friends is what we are called to. When we put a sign in the front of our church that said “a place of sanctuary for all”, we made a statement that most people aren’t willing to make, or at least to make and mean. It is that, a sanctuary, a safe place, a refuge, for anyone and everyone, and all the stuff that they bring with them. And it is that because there are people there who are committed to that kingdom vision. And for that, I am thankful.

Like those few people in the local Christian community who keep going out of their way to be sure that ToG is invited and included; I pray that we are that kind of presence for individuals who need to find their place of welcome. It’s hard work my friends. Stick-to-it-ive-ness is not a trait that comes natural to humanity, and certainly not to us here in this “have it your way” society; but it is a beautiful gift that has been given to us by the One who made us, and I see it being nurtured in our amazing little community every day.

Thank you for being amazing and loving and welcoming. For YOU I am thankful.

Happy Anniversary ToG

Wow, it's August 29th! Guess it's been a while since the last blog post! So much has been happening at Table of Grace, and we're so excited about the things that are going to continue to happen. We set out at our first service (and really way before) to create a place of belonging for a diverse group of people. We wanted to invite and include people who had never, or at least not for many years, felt welcome in any church. That first service was one year and two days ago, and every day since then, I have been in awe to watch God move in our lives, in our new faith community, and in our local community. I have seen people come out of their shells. I've seen people who didn't feel welcome anywhere loved beyond measure by a bunch of people who just met them. I've seen people who had written off God and anything related to Christianity because of bad experiences, who might consider calling themselves a Christian, or at least a follower of Jesus. And I've seen people who are not now and never intend to be Christian discover that this little community can still be a place of spiritual renewal for them, regardless of their faith tradition.

If I didn't work so hard to keep my composure, I would be a sobbing mess every moment of every day thinking about the beauty of what God and the folks at ToG are doing! Children of the community are being loved, fed and taught about being themselves, loving one another and taking care of the Earth. Adults who have never really been interested in the Bible are engaged in great discussion asking "Banned Questions About the Bible" and "Feasting on the Word" (our two bible study guides to date). People who barely know one another are going to great lengths to take care of other members of the community with pressing needs. This is what any faith community should be about, and I'm so proud to be a part of this!

Even as I write this, folks are planning and making connections to get our food pantry and community meal up and running. We will be providing a much needed addition to the community food resources that already exist, being extra careful and diligent to provide healthy and usable food items for anyone who needs them. In addition to providing extra food help, we will invite the community in to come share a meal with us on the days that the pantry is open. We have learned the value of eating together. We know that when we sit across the table from somebody and share a meal with them, we begin to share their life and their story. That is what we want to do with those who come to the Table of Grace food pantry for assistance as well. We want to share in the lives, the struggles and the hopes of our neighbors; and we want to share meals with them.

These are just a few of the things that we are doing right now, and there are so many more in our hearts and probably in yours! Next week we will be gathering together to share those hopes and dreams and try to organize our efforts for the upcoming year. If you've ever thought about becoming a part of this amazing community, I hope that you'll check it out soon. We need your voice, your hands and your heart. Please check out our Facebook page for weekly updates about what is going on. Just search for Table of Grace-Jefferson City.

There are so many people who have yet to hear the life giving news that we are here to proclaim. God loves each and every one of us and desires peace and justice in our world, here and now. At Table of Grace, we will continue to work toward that end, realizing of course that we will never fully arrive, but knowing that we sure can work with God to bring light into the darkness around us. Will you join us in proclaiming this good news and roll your sleeves up to work with us for peace and justice?

What if?

Last night at Table of Grace, I preached a “what if” sermon, asking along the way…What if I were the friends in the passage (Mark 2:1-12…feel free to stop and read it now if you weren’t there)? What if I were the paralyzed man? What if I were in the group of onlookers? What if…wait for it…what if I was Jesus?

Wait a minute, did I just blaspheme? Can you even say that? I mean, really, is that like calling myself God? It seems a bit like shaky ground. In my own life, though, I feel like that is the place where I have been called to stand…on the shaky ground. It is the ground that Jesus walked on, where he muddied waters, and stirred pots, and challenged establishments. That ground, the ground of status quo and of inequality and injustice, was forever shaken by the life and message of Jesus.

Over and over again throughout the gospels, we have Jesus calling us to follow him. He tells the disciples that they have authority to do all of the things that he is doing, and more. When he left them, no longer to be visibly, physically present with them, he told them that they would have a Spirit that would accompany them always, and that through that Spirit, he, and of course God, would always be with them. I believe that he asked them to take over his place in the stories, to continue his mission, to spread his good news. Therefore, I have decided to start looking at the Biblical text through this lens (along with the collection of others that I have).

Last night I shared a quote from Peter Gomes, author of The Scandalous Gospel of Jesus, among other things. Peter, who passed from this world far too early, last spring, said this: “The question should not be 'What would Jesus do?' but rather, more dangerously, 'What would Jesus have me do?' The onus is not on Jesus but on us, for Jesus did not come to ask semi-divine human beings to do impossible things. He came to ask human beings to live up to their full humanity; he wants us to live in the full implication of our human gifts, and that is far more demanding.” Enough said, right?

What would Jesus have me do? What if Jesus expected me to take seriously the charge to keep doing what he was doing? What if I did? What if you did? What if people began to experience wholeness in body, mind, and spirit because we cared?  What if people who were hungry began to experience food security, rather than food insecurity, because we who have shared with those who have not? What if my self-interest began to wane because my concern for others began to fill me in ways that I have never experienced? What if the love of God began to flow through me in the same way that it flowed through Jesus because I began to really follow?

What if, what if, what if. During our children’s moment last night, I asked the children what message they got from the four friends holding on tightly to the ropes and lowering their friend into the middle of the room where Jesus could heal him. The answer that I got came from our daughter, Alexis, who I must say is pretty amazing. She said “you have to hold on tight to your friends until they get what they need.”

Wow. What if we did that? What if our friends did that for us? You know what’s cool? I believe we have friends who would do that. And I feel pretty strongly that we would do that for any of our friends. So I guess the challenge is to go back and ask “what if I’m Jesus?” That just explodes the possibilities, because now everybody is my friend, and everybody is deserving of my care and compassion. What if there was nobody for whom I wasn’t willing to hold on tight, until they got what they needed. That is the goal to which I aspire. Anyone care to join me?

These are my thoughts today, I hope you'll share yours.

Blessings, Michelle

What I wish everyone knew about Table of Grace.

Not long ago, I was thinking about all the great things I'm seeing happen at Table of Grace, so I tried to put in to words.

I hope you will find these words to be true as well.

Peace,
Stephanie Scott-Huffman


What I wish everyone knew about Table of Grace.


It's hard to get people to come to church.

So many people don't care for church because they view it as boring, they've been burned and hurt by the church or their experience with church just hasn't been pleasant.

These are just a few reasons we hesitate calling Table of Grace "church". A lot of times we say it's a faith community because that's how we see it. It's a community of people who are on a journey together. Different pasts, paths, beliefs and stories. We envision a community of people who can come together, just as they are and just be.

But the thing is, it is a church. No matter what we want to call it, it's still a church. It's the kind of church that I still believe in. The kind of church that is like a breath of fresh air. The kind of church that you don't have to worry about what to wear or what people will think of you. It's the kind of church that when someone ask "How are you doing", it's not just a nice question, they really want to know. It's a relational church. Where people, their lives and their struggles really matter.

We want Table of Grace to be the church that many have longed for. The church that many have been looking for. It isn't our hope to compete with other churches in the area, to be that cool church that seems to be popular or in style. It is our desire and hope that Table of Grace become the place where people will find acceptance, love, grace, hope, friendship, help, guidance and community at levels they've never experienced anywhere else. Table of Grace is down to earth, genuine, simple, traditional and non-traditional. We are a place of sanctuary for all and when we say all, we mean ALL. No one should be excluded from being a part of God's kingdom.

Do we do things a little differently? Yes, we do. Some days you'll find Lady Gaga, Supertramp, John Lennon or Macy Gray playing at the end of the service, along with hymns, some Christian songs and other music as well-because we believe the gift of music isn't just limited to Christian music. You'll find the kids in the sanctuary with the rest of us through the service, coloring, making things, listening and taking communion. You won't find fancy fixtures that have cost large amounts of money, but you'll find the creativity of the children's art work that reflect the heart of God with things like peace, love, joy and more love. You'll find a casual atmosphere where conversation about what the Pastor is preaching is welcomed. You'll find a variety of people participating in the service, not just Elders and Deacons. You'll find good food after service, laughter, great conversation and sometimes a fun game of something or another will break out.

It is our hope to build a community that feeds to hungry, clothe the naked, offers a hand to the oppressed, helps lift the heavy loads of others, empowers people, walks along side people through the bad and celebrate with each other through the good. We believe that we need each other. We believe that our differences are actually gifts that can be accepted and celebrated. We believe that each of us have amazing things to bring to this world and to one another and that our differences are not to be feared, but embraced. We believe that many people find God in different ways and we respect those ways. We believe that we can learn together, worship together and explore together. We believe that it's ok to ask questions, express doubt and draw our own conclusions.

These are just some things I wish you knew about the Table of Grace. Perhaps one day soon, you will come and get a glimpse of just some of the things that I see.

It's beautiful.

Welcome!

Welcome to the Table of Grace blog site! We are so glad you're here.

Here you'll find service times, location, bible study information and perhaps some insight from Reverend Michelle Scott-Huffman.

Table of Grace is a new faith community. We've been joining together for close to six months now and we've had weekly services for approximately four months. It's been wonderful forming new friendships, learning and worshiping together, creating community and sharing meals together. Reverend Michelle has shared insightful wisdom and encouragement, moving many of us to look within ourselves and to God. Table of Grace is a great place to be and as we move forward in this journey, we hope that you will join us.

Peace be with you.