Sunday, October 1st: "World Communion Sunday"

Watch the sermon here

First United Presbyterian Church

“World Communion Sunday”

Rev. Amy Morgan

October 1, 2023

Matthew 21:23-32

23 When Jesus entered the temple, the chief priests and the elders of the people came to him as he was teaching, and said, "By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?"

 24 Jesus said to them, "I will also ask you one question; if you tell me the answer, then I will also tell you by what authority I do these things.

 25 Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin?" And they argued with one another, "If we say, 'From heaven,' he will say to us, 'Why then did you not believe him?'

 26 But if we say, 'Of human origin,' we are afraid of the crowd; for all regard John as a prophet."

 27 So they answered Jesus, "We do not know." And he said to them, "Neither will I tell you by what authority I am doing these things.

 28 "What do you think? A man had two sons; he went to the first and said, 'Son, go and work in the vineyard today.'

 29 He answered, 'I will not'; but later he changed his mind and went.

 30 The father went to the second and said the same; and he answered, 'I go, sir'; but he did not go.

 31 Which of the two did the will of his father?" They said, "The first." Jesus said to them, "Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you.

 32 For John came to you in the way of righteousness and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes believed him; and even after you saw it, you did not change your minds and believe him.”

Who are the children of God? What do they look like? What language do they speak? What creeds do they confess? What land do they live in? What are their customs and practices? 

In other words, how can you distinguish a child of God from everybody else? 

This is at the heart of the question Jesus is asked by the chief priests and elders of the temple. The question is about authority, yes, but it is also a question of identity. Authority and identity are intertwined, in this story and in our lives today. Because authority is a question of who or what you follow, who or what you listen to and trust, who or what shapes what you do with the hours in your day. And all that adds up to identity. 

Let’s take Swifties for an example. Not many of us would immediately think of Taylor Swift in a conversation about authority. But hear me out. Fans of Taylor Swift – real fans, fans who’ve earned the title Swiftie – follow her on social media, some even follow her around the country to attend multiple concerts. They listen to her music on loop and memorize the lyrics. They mimic her outfits, her dance moves, her manicures. As one Swiftie said, “she’s the soundtrack to our best and hardest moments.” Taylor Swift’s music has shaped the daily lives of a generation. For all practical purposes, she is an authority figure for them, and their identity is connected to that authority. Thus they proudly bear the name Swiftie. 

For those of us who bear the name, who claim the identity of Christian, authority and identity are maybe not as much fun as collecting concert merchandise or making friendship bracelets. These are kind of messy topics. Conversations about authority and identity lead us down the paths of origins that may be unflattering at best and condemning at worst. They steer us into confrontations with inequities and false assumptions. They undermine our comfortable status-quo where we can simply say, “We are all God’s children, aren’t we?” 

Because for most of Christian history, authority and identity have been utilized to obtain power and allow abuse, to draw dividing lines and create conflict, to dehumanize and scapegoat, to dismiss suffering and disregard voices on the margins. Christian identity in this country today has become synonymous, not with doing the work of God, but with judgement and shame, corruption and abuse, ignorance, racism, sexism, and nationalism. 

But in 1933, at Shadyside Presbyterian Church in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, one church made a choice to change that history. They chose to remember by whose authority they taught and lived and served. They chose to live into a new identity. They celebrated the first World-Wide Communion Sunday, a celebration of the unity of all Christians, across the dividing lines of denominations, national identity, or cultural practice. What we now call World Communion Sunday began, not as a sermon, a creed, a doctrine. It began as a practice, a practice shared by Christians all over the world. It began not by talking about something, but by doing something. They chose not to say, “We’re all God’s children,” but to do the work of God’s children, to do what Jesus told them to do. They chose to live by the authority of Jesus Christ  - following and listening to him, allowing their lives to be shaped by him – in this practice of global Christian identity and unity. 

It took a few years for this practice to spread and gain adoption across the global Christian landscape. But in 1936, as the world was beginning to come apart at the seams, as wars and rumors of war were breaking out, many churches and denominations began celebrating World Communion Sunday, prioritizing unity in Christ over divisions that were causing violence and suffering around the world. 

And now, as we experience new fissures in our society, as wars and rumors of war spread anew, we are invited to reclaim our identity as children of God, and to live into that identity not in word but in practice. It begins at this table, but it does not end here. 

At the Communion table, we remember our unity in Christ, and we are nourished to go out and live in a way that witnesses to that unity. This afternoon, we’ll join with other Christians in Loveland, and maybe even some folks who would not call themselves Christian but still wish to do the work of God. We will take a nice walk. But we will walk in solidarity with those experiencing hunger around the world. For more than half a century, CROP Walks have been raising funds and awareness for the global hunger relief efforts of Church World Service. If you haven’t signed up to walk or donated to this walk, I’m sure Ashley Kasprzak would be happy to help you out with that after service. 

At the workshop Cheyenne Wheat and I attended last week, we were equipped to go out into our community and find the places where young adults are finding sacred community and sacred purpose – outside of the Christian framework. We were challenged to see these young people leading us into the kingdom of God, going there ahead of us. And that is what we hope to do in the coming months. 

We are privileged to support and pray for Brody as he serves with Yucatan Peninsula Mission and to welcome our friends from YPM when they visit here next month. This ministry partnership invites us to live out our Christian unity across boundaries of language and culture and perhaps to find new ways to love our neighbors here in Loveland who speak a different language or have different cultural practices. 

These activities are only the first steps of what we can do and be as the Heart of Christ in the Heart of Loveland. These practices will probably show us what we don’t know more than they will teach us everything we need to know. These experiences will act as parables, confounding and confusing us, potentially, but also opening us up to thinking in new ways.  

Our unity at this table goes beyond shared mission efforts, beyond the bounds even of what we might recognize as Christian. When Jesus admonished the temple leaders, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you, he was calling them to recognize that those we exclude from the community of faith may, in fact, be the ones who are really able to see what God is up to. If we aren’t willing to walk away from this table and sit at tables with people whose lives, practices, beliefs, occupations, life choices, and cultures differ from ours, then we have missed the point of what is happening at this table. 

Because the host at this table ate with everybody. The tax collectors and prostitutes, the Jews and the Gentiles, the wealthy and the poor, the healthy and the ill. This host invites everybody to this table – the addict and the police officer, the Ph.D. and the person who never learned to read, the immigrant and the patriot, the prisoner and the pensioner. And if we can’t square with that, we’re at the wrong table. 

So how do you distinguish a child of God from everybody else? In Jesus’s parable, there are two sons. One says he won’t do what the father asks, but he does it anyway. The other says he will do the work, but then he doesn’t. The question Jesus asks isn’t, “who is the real son?” or even “who is the good son?” He simply asks, “who did the will of his father?” They are both still children of the father. But Jesus uses this parable to explain that sometimes those who don’t say what we want to hear or live in a way we think is acceptable are actually the ones who really get what God is about and are doing the will of God. 

So the answer to the question is: you can’t distinguish a child of God from everybody else. Everyone who is invited to gather at this table is a child of God, and, as I said before, everybody is invited to this table. Those who do the will of God and those who say they will but don’t. The hypocrites and the agnostics. The social workers and the CEOs. The politicians and the priests. All are claimed as God’s children, and all get invited to this table. 

So maybe we even have something to learn from the Swifties. Maybe if we can be united under Christ’s authority, follow him and listen to him and move like him, allow our lives to be shaped by the soundtrack of the gospel in our best and hardest moments, maybe Christian identity can become less complicated. Maybe instead of saying, “We’re all God’s children,” we can just live that way. 

To God be all glory forever and ever. Amen.