Coram Deo -- FPC sermon excerpt
When I left three months ago, I said that I wanted to rest, relax, and decompose a bit — decompose so that I could become more fertile in my ministry. Well, I’m happy to say that I have decomposed.
Whether I have become more fertile remains to be seen.
On my sabbatical, I visited a number of churches that are trying, as we are, to embrace “all people with God’s love and grace.” They are congregations that do an excellent job of welcoming people with true hospitality, and then doing the work of reconciliation — building a united congregation in a very fractured and polarized world.
This is what we need to do at FPC, if we’re going to become — as it says on our wall — “a house of prayer for all peoples” (Isaiah 56:7). And the good news is, I think we can.
One thing I discovered about all of these hospitable congregations is that they gather people around food and drink. I found that it is when people share a meal that they become close to each other, and close to God.
We see this in today’s Scripture lesson from Isaiah, in which the prophet says that “the LORD of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wines.” The LORD is showing us hospitality in this passage, and gathering us and all the people of the world together in a marvelous feast. “Then the LORD will wipe away the tears from all faces, and the disgrace of his people he will take away from all the earth” (25:6, 8).
Isn’t that an amazing vision? God becomes our host, and gathers us together for food and drink. God comes close to us, wipes the tears from our faces, and removes our disgrace. The passage also says that God will destroy “the shroud” that is cast over all people, and will “swallow up death forever” (vv. 7-8).
It is at this feast that we become close to God and to one another. It is when we eat and drink together that we are living coram Deo — an ancient Latin phrase which means “before the face of God” or “in the presence of God.”
Coram Deo — in the presence of God. That is what I was looking for on sabbatical, and that is what most of us are looking for in a church. I found that churches that practice hospitality are coram Deo churches — they help people to have an experience of living in the presence of God.
An example: Saddleback Church in California has put up a new building called The Refinery, with several restaurants and snack bars, as well as a skate park, volleyball court, and waterfall where kids can splash around. No kidding. It’s like a Christian theme park.
But I give them credit — they do hospitality well. One of the pastors, Erik Rees, tries to look at the campus with the eyes of a visitor, and make sure that a first-timer feels relaxed and comfortable. Everyone gets at least three welcomes on their way to the worship center, and new members are given a full dinner as part of their membership class. The Refinery and its surroundings give people a place to sit, eat, and develop relationships. In a fast-paced world, says Erik, all of this “gives people permission to slow down.”
At Saddleback, you find yourself coram Deo — in the presence of God.
When a church practices hospitality, people of different backgrounds are invited to sit and have conversation over a meal or a drink. The focus is on friendship and the development of relationships, which help people to learn about each other and develop bonds — in spite of their differences. “Through hospitality we discover the ways we are both alike and different,” says Christine Pohl, who wrote one of the best books I read while on sabbatical. “When we welcome other people into our lives,” she says, “we create space in which each person’s gifts and insights can be shared.”
God knows this, which is why the great gathering in today’s passage from Isaiah is not in a lecture hall or even in a Sanctuary. It’s on a mountain, around picnic tables, “a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wines.” When we gather around tables, we are coram Deo — in the presence of God.
I have discovered that hospitality can accomplish what theological discussion and debate cannot: it can build a diverse community and move people toward reconciliation. Theology tends to divide people, as does politics and music, but a shared meal can unite people at the level of a basic human need — food and drink. Perhaps the clearest path to unity is through the stomach.
Whether I have become more fertile remains to be seen.
On my sabbatical, I visited a number of churches that are trying, as we are, to embrace “all people with God’s love and grace.” They are congregations that do an excellent job of welcoming people with true hospitality, and then doing the work of reconciliation — building a united congregation in a very fractured and polarized world.
This is what we need to do at FPC, if we’re going to become — as it says on our wall — “a house of prayer for all peoples” (Isaiah 56:7). And the good news is, I think we can.
One thing I discovered about all of these hospitable congregations is that they gather people around food and drink. I found that it is when people share a meal that they become close to each other, and close to God.
We see this in today’s Scripture lesson from Isaiah, in which the prophet says that “the LORD of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wines.” The LORD is showing us hospitality in this passage, and gathering us and all the people of the world together in a marvelous feast. “Then the LORD will wipe away the tears from all faces, and the disgrace of his people he will take away from all the earth” (25:6, 8).
Isn’t that an amazing vision? God becomes our host, and gathers us together for food and drink. God comes close to us, wipes the tears from our faces, and removes our disgrace. The passage also says that God will destroy “the shroud” that is cast over all people, and will “swallow up death forever” (vv. 7-8).
It is at this feast that we become close to God and to one another. It is when we eat and drink together that we are living coram Deo — an ancient Latin phrase which means “before the face of God” or “in the presence of God.”
Coram Deo — in the presence of God. That is what I was looking for on sabbatical, and that is what most of us are looking for in a church. I found that churches that practice hospitality are coram Deo churches — they help people to have an experience of living in the presence of God.
An example: Saddleback Church in California has put up a new building called The Refinery, with several restaurants and snack bars, as well as a skate park, volleyball court, and waterfall where kids can splash around. No kidding. It’s like a Christian theme park.
But I give them credit — they do hospitality well. One of the pastors, Erik Rees, tries to look at the campus with the eyes of a visitor, and make sure that a first-timer feels relaxed and comfortable. Everyone gets at least three welcomes on their way to the worship center, and new members are given a full dinner as part of their membership class. The Refinery and its surroundings give people a place to sit, eat, and develop relationships. In a fast-paced world, says Erik, all of this “gives people permission to slow down.”
At Saddleback, you find yourself coram Deo — in the presence of God.
When a church practices hospitality, people of different backgrounds are invited to sit and have conversation over a meal or a drink. The focus is on friendship and the development of relationships, which help people to learn about each other and develop bonds — in spite of their differences. “Through hospitality we discover the ways we are both alike and different,” says Christine Pohl, who wrote one of the best books I read while on sabbatical. “When we welcome other people into our lives,” she says, “we create space in which each person’s gifts and insights can be shared.”
God knows this, which is why the great gathering in today’s passage from Isaiah is not in a lecture hall or even in a Sanctuary. It’s on a mountain, around picnic tables, “a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wines.” When we gather around tables, we are coram Deo — in the presence of God.
I have discovered that hospitality can accomplish what theological discussion and debate cannot: it can build a diverse community and move people toward reconciliation. Theology tends to divide people, as does politics and music, but a shared meal can unite people at the level of a basic human need — food and drink. Perhaps the clearest path to unity is through the stomach.
posted by Henry Brinton | 8:24 AM
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