“And this is his commandment, that we should believe in the name of his Son Jesus Christ and love one another, just as he has commanded us. All who obey his commandments abide in him, and he abides in them. And by this we know that he abides in us...”

 

Abide.  It’s a word we hear throughout the gospel and the epistles of John the Evangelist: “Abide in me as I abide in you” [John 15:4]; “As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you; abide in my love” [John 15:9].  “All who obey his commandments abide in him, and he abides in them” [1 John 3:24].

 

What does it mean to “abide”?  It is to dwell with, to stay, to remain, to endure.  “All…abide in him, and abides in them.”  In other bible versions, the verse has been translated as “They dwell in him and he dwells in them” [The New English Bible] or “We live deeply and surely in him, and he lives in us” [The Message].  The meaning is clear: one can’t "abide" with Jesus at a distance; a relationship with Jesus is “up close and personal.” 

 

The sacrament of holy communion is one way we can get close to Jesus.  At this table, a bit of papery wafer or flat bread and a tiny sip of juice seem very little for a meal -- but they can fulfill our needs like no other food.  Through the consecrated elements, the broken bread and the cup of blessing, Christ becomes real and tangible to us. 

 

UCC Pastor Lillian Daniel has observed that to abide in God is to abide among the realities of God’s creation.  “God had a shot at making a perfect church,” she writes, “but then God added human beings.”  Ah yes, that’s when abiding can become difficult.  That’s when the word “abide” may even be used in the negative, as in “I can’t abide that person,” meaning you can’t stand him or her.

 

But faithful communion with Jesus is not simply an individual relationship, it is also a communal one.  Christians do not eat and drink alone at the table, but together as members of a community.  When our relationship with Jesus involves partaking of his body and blood, as we have done today, it is not just about Jesus “and me.”  It’s about Jesus “and us.” 

 

Throughout the world throughout the year, Christians gather around the communion table as the family of God sharing a family meal.  The head of our family told us that whenever we share the bread and the cup, he will be right there in the midst of us.  And when Jesus shared the Last Supper with his closest friends on the final night of his earthly life, he gave his disciples a new commandment: “Love one another as I have loved you.”

 

It is at the communion table where we are a Christian family: young and old, male and female, rich and poor, married and single, long-timers and newcomers -- a family of many differences, for sure, but a family none the less.

 

It’s not easy following Christ’s commandments.  It’s not easy being a family of faith.  But when we come to this table, we come united in our common humanity.  We are not some saints and some sinners; some gifted and some not; some “right” and some “wrong”; some “winners” and some “losers”; we are not “them” and “us.”  We come as a people united by a common God, a common Savior, and a common calling from Christ.

 

Lillian Daniel tells a story about a meeting at her church, where the board was discussing the meal they would be serving at the local homeless shelter.  The conversation went something like this: "We are making chili.  Do we buy cheese that has already been grated and packaged, or do we buy big wedges of cheese at wholesale and buy a cheese grater?" 

 

That was the debate.  For forty-five minutes, they discussed whether they should buy the pre-grated cheese: “It's much more expensive, but it's nicely wrapped.  Or we can buy the big wedge cheaper and also buy a grater.  We don't need a grater, but they need a grater at the homeless shelter.  But then it'll be their grater and not our grater.  What if they misuse it?  Can we risk that?”

 

Forty-five minutes of this.  And then someone said, "It's really cold tonight.  I'm glad I'm not a homeless person."  At that everything stopped.  People could hear one another breathing, and the words of that particular man settled into the souls of everybody present.  For a lengthy moment people focused on what he had said.

 

Then someone raised a hand and said, "Why should we be serving chili anyway, maybe if we were to serve something else we wouldn't have to worry about the cheese."  Right back at it, all over again.  But in the midst of an absolutely useless conversation, God had broken through.  In the midst of a ponderous time, there was that one moment, and it would have gone unnoticed were it not happening in the midst of a group of people who regularly ask the question, "Jesus, where are you abiding?" 

 

Because when we have it in ourselves to ask that kind of a question, then in the midst of the tedium of meetings, the discomfort of disagreement and distrust, in the midst of the sharp edges of anger, we’re going to be able to recognize — yes, Jesus is abiding here.  God's truth is here.  Christ’s Spirit is here.  There is a breakthrough of the kingdom of God, even in the midst of our discussions, whether the subject is as mundane as cheese graters, or as prophetic as what it means to be the church of Jesus Christ.

 

“What are you looking for?” Jesus asks, "What do you need?"  And we respond to him by saying, "Help us to see where you are.  Help us to be what you are calling us to be."

 

Jesus calls us to be fed and changed by him, so he can make us new.  When Jesus abides in us, Christ’s spirit permeates our hearts and minds.  Christ comes to make us new people who love God and love one another.  When Christ’s words, love, and forgiveness fill us, we can begin to become all that God intends for us to be.

 

Abide.  To remain, to endure, to hope, and to continue.  May we be as sisters and brothers in Christ, abiding in the One who abides in us, and abiding with each other, in the very body of Christ that is the Church.  Amen.