Keeping the Feast

I AM that I am. Tell them that I AM has sent you to them. – Jesus said to the servants, ‘Fill the jars with water.’’ And they filled them to the brim. With those two thoughts in the background, I want to reflect briefly on the matter of our encountering God, and all that does.

Recently I read a book entitled “Keeping The Feast” by Milton Brasher-Cunningham. Brasher-Cunningham was a cook and each chapter is based on a particular meal, followed by a recipe, and then a poem. I want to cite three comments in the book that particularly struck me and which I think have to something interesting to say on the theme of ‘keeping the feast’.

The first of these is this: “Communion is a meal on the go.  Whenever we share the meal, we do so in transition.  We need the time together to look at one another’s lives, to describe the ripples we see, and to remind one another that change is as basic to our diet as love itself. I believe that we are a travelling people, a journeying people, a pilgrim people – use whichever word you prefer. We are indeed in transition. One of our watchwords as a reformed church is ‘semper reformanda’ or, as Brasher-Cunningham puts it, change is as basic to our diet as love itself. I think that is really challenging. These days, I find that a lot of what I am doing is managing change, and that is probably true for most in ministry. And it’s difficult. No matter how loudly people say they are up for it, often they are not, or certainly only on their terms.

There are many parallels we can draw with the Israelite people in the wilderness, the place they were about to enter under the leadership of Moses, following his call from God to lead the people to a new phase. And all the jokes about changing lightbulbs spring to mind. But let’s put them aside and, with God’s help, continue on the journey to which we are called.

My second comment from Brasher-Cunningham is this: “It’s a stretch to think of the words wastefully and prodigal as descriptive of God, but then again look at the extravagance of a sunset or an iris or a bluebird. Whether as individuals or institutions, we are pointed towards self-preservation, yet we belong to a God who is not a save-it-for-a-rainy-day kind of God. Brasher-Cunningham goes on to refer to the story of the one whom we usually call the ‘rich young ruler’ and how, when he came to Jesus, he was asked to give away everything – but he simply could not face being such a spendthrift. Here is a clear and important reminder that God turns things upside down. What do we do with what we have and are? And what do we do when the world around us would say that we are wasting stuff, time, resource, whatever – but that’s what God seems to be telling us to do. Putting it another way, how do we respond to the need, and the call, to be counter-cultural?

Brasher-Cunningham’s third comment particularly reflects the way in which we most often celebrate Communion. I like to have a hunk of a bread and a chalice brimming with wine – but I have usually got bread cut into tiny cubes and tiny glasses of wine. By the way, despite my preferences, it doesn’t actually matter what are the elements we are using. I happily used coke and biscuits one time in a remote area of Panama. What matters is what we are doing. 

However, though I would want to state that very strongly, I also take Brasher-Cunningham’s point when he writes: “I wish we came to the altar expecting to eat more than a small hint of bread. What if we came around for seconds; we have plenty, come and eat again. Drink one. Drink two or three or seven. There’s enough to go around and then some, because we belong to God.

There is, of course, a concept of enough – and that is also we need. But we need to juxtapose that with a concept of abundance – because that is what God is like. You spread a table for me in the presence of my enemies; you have richly anointed my head with oil, and my cup brims over. My cups brims over. It’s those stone jars at Cana, filled to the brim, and filled with the best quality wine. Our God is generous, sharing abundantly with us.  He is the bread of life.  He offers the living water.  His hospitality, and welcome, and abundance is amazing.  That’s grace, God’s grace, there for us.

Address given at the Eastern Synod of the URC Ministers’ Gathering at Launde Abbey, September 2017 – with minor adaptions.