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Communion Poem
SERMON - 10.15am, Emmanuel Church, Pokfulam, Hong Kong
Sunday 27th August 2006
Revd. Matthew Vernon
John 6.
This is the third week running that the Gospel reading has been from John 6 with Jesus speaking about being the living bread and about eating his flesh and drinking his blood.
My clergy colleagues and I don't know why this is the case.
Why the powers that be ordain that we should have the same Gospel passage 3 weeks in a row, and in fact today some of last week's verse repeated!
And especially such a convoluted passage!
I have some sympathy with the disciples who said "This teaching is difficult".
Still, its what we're given.
This morning I'm going to avoid the theology of the body and blood of Jesus, of Communion.
And instead focus on the experience of Communion.
That after all is the most important thing for us.
Communion is a way in which we meet God.
and God changes us.
This also fits with having shorter sermons in August.
Whilst this is the last Sunday in August, I won't want to do you out of a shorter sermon!
So I've got two poems to share.
The first is well known, by George Herbert.
George Herbert you may know was a priest in England as well as a poet in the 17th Century.
He wrote this beautiful poem called "Love".
Love bade me welcome; yet my soul drew back,
Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
If I lacked anything.
'A guest', I answered, 'worthy to be here.'
Love said, 'You shall be he.'
'I, the unkind, ungrateful? Ah, my dear.
I cannot look on thee.'
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
'Who made the eyes but I?'
'Truth, Lord, but I have marred them; let my shame
Go where it doth deserve.'
'And know you not', says Love, 'who bore the blame?'
'My dear, then I will serve.'
'You must sit down', says Love, 'and taste my meat.'
So I did sit and eat.
This second poem is by Joy Cowley from New Zealand.
I asked Love to help me
greet the stranger in myself.
I knew how to open my door to the world
and greet everyone out there as a friend
but I didn't have any kind of welcome
for the impoverished one within.
She was the weakness I couldn't acknowledge.
She was the pain I didn't allow.
She was the leper I'd tried to cast out the city,
the one who cried at night in lonely places.
I thought that if I let her in
she'd cause me no end of trouble
and I was afraid.
But Love helped me to prepare a feast.
We set the table, Love and I,
and then I did it,
I invited my stranger.
"Answer the door," said Love.
"You have nothing to fear."
She came in slowly.
I put my arms around her
and embraced her in her rags
and we wept together for years of separation.
I sat my stranger at the head of the table,
gave her the best of food and wine
and, claiming her as my own,
began to introduce her to my friends.
"But who shall I say she is?"
I whispered to Love.
"I can't call her a stranger now."
Love smiled and said, "Don't you know?
She is the Christ."
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