Please, Won’t You Be My Neighbor: A Place at the Table
I have to be honest and say that I really struggle with not having Communion on World Communion Sunday. I hope that you will attend worship Wednesday evening outside, where we will bring our own bread and juice and share together. As the pandemic began, churches scrambled to maintain divine worship. Our first week we decided Saturday that it was unsafe to gather on Sunday, so a few of us met at 9:30 Sunday morning, we were audio only, we recorded at 10, thinking we would post at 11, it took longer to post than we thought – it was messy, but the Word was present and shared. Communion, though, is fundamentally an act of community. Acts tells us that the first Christians devoted themselves to the apostles’, those who knew and saw the risen Christ, teaching, to fellowship and breaking bread and to prayer. I took Communion over Zoom during General Assembly; it was “synchronous” – all 1,000 of us were on together and could see one another if we scrolled through the pages – and yet, I struggled with it. In the Presbyterian church, Communion can only be served by elders, and when we serve to those unable to attend worship, no one person can serve Communion to another person alone, I can’t bring someone communion by myself, it must be two or more who come from the church to visit, representing the community extended to that person. Some Presbyterian leaders are saying that during COVID, the rules will be relaxed and churches and pastors don’t have to be so concerned.
I was about ready to consider a reimagining of virtual community, and then, in a Presbytery meeting this week, another pastor shared that she has not taken Communion virtually. “It just is not right to sit alone at my table and take Communion,” she said. Ah, it is not. Although the Holy Spirit gathers all who come the table in every time and every place at Christ’s invitation to feast with him, in Communion we who receive become one with Christ, one with each other, and one in ministry to all the world. Communion is not an individual celebration, it is a communal celebration in which everyone who wants to grow to be like Jesus has a place at the table.
And on World Communion Sunday, we celebrate that Jesus is not just the Savior of our congregation, or our denomination, or our nation, Jesus is the Savior of the world. All people are made in God’s image and growing to be like Jesus is how we allow God’s image in us to flourish.
In Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood, Mr. Rogers didn’t talk a lot about church. I think he only visited a church once in an episode, and that episode starts with him matching left shoes and right shoes from paper bags, flip flops, house shoes, hiking boots, and ??? organ shoes…. He goes out into the neighborhood to the church where he meets the organist and they talk about his organ shoes and his upcoming concert and he plays the organ for Mr. Rogers. Mr. Rogers seldom openly discussed matters of faith, and he never served or attended Communion on an episode. And yet, he strove not only to allow God’s image to flourish in him, but to nurture it in others.
He believed “As human beings, our job in life is to help people realize how rare and valuable each one of us really is, that each of us has something that no one else has- or ever will have- something inside that is unique to all time. It’s our job to encourage each other to discover that uniqueness and to provide ways of developing its expression.”
Mr. Rogers wanted every person to know deep down the truth of the 139th Psalm. James Limburg is an Old Testament seminary professor, but when he wrote his commentary on the Psalms, he shared that it was his son who had taught him what the 139th Psalm really means. His three boys shared a basement bedroom and at bedtime, they read a story or two, talked a little about the day, and then it was time for prayers. The oldest and youngest son always prayed the same prayer: “Thank you for my mom and dad, thank you for my brothers and sister, thank you for my dog, Amen.” The middle son, though, added to the prayer, “Thank you for my mom and dad, thank you for my brothers and sister, thank you for my dog, thank you for me. Amen.”
Thank you for your constant presence and work on me. You intricately wove me together in my mother’s womb, you saw me completely when I was just a blob of cells, you know so much more about me than I could ever know, even about myself.
Mr. Rogers saw the wonder in each person, he wanted to inspect the unique, unrepeatable miracle that each of us is and hold that amazing design up for the world to see. He said, “It’s our insides that make us who we are, that allow us to dream and wonder and feel for others. That’s what’s essential. That’s what will always make the biggest difference in our world.” Mr. Rogers ignored the outsides and welcomed neighbors with their differences. Police Officer Clemmons was the first African American character with a recurring role on a children’s television series. In one, now famous, episode, Police Officer Clemmons happens by on a particularly hot day while Mr. Rogers has his shoes off, cooling his feet in a child’s pool and he joins him – black feet and white feet, together in the pool.
In another episode, Mr. Rogers’ visitor is a little boy in an electric wheelchair, Jeff Erlanger. Jeff was about to undergo major surgery, and his wish before the surgery was to meet Mr. Rogers. His parents remember when they arrived on the set, Mr. Rogers just said that when the segment began they were going to talk for a bit and then maybe sing a song together. The segment was unscripted. He asked Jeff “Can you tell my friends what it is that made you need this wheelchair?” After Jeff shares his story, Mr. Rogers just starts singing “It’s you I Like” and after the last lines, “I hope that you’ll remember even when you’re feeling blue that it’s you I like, it’s you yourself. It’s you. It’s you I like.” He says as the last notes ring, “It is you I like, Jeff, and there must be times when you do feel blue. I’m not feeling blue right now though!” and they laugh together.
The Psalms, remember are a song, Psalm 139 is a hymn reminding us that God says “It’s you I like.” Where can I go and be apart from you, God? Nowhere. What can I think that will be hidden from you, God? Nothing. Where can I hide; what can I know; where can I go? Across the expanse of the universe, from the horizon where the dawn breaks to the farthest limits of the sea, your hand holds my hand securely and leads me. And when I chose darkness, even the dark isn’t dark to you. When my insides boil, when I wish you would kill my enemies, when I hate them with perfect hatred, don’t let me get away, God, I really don’t want you to. You sift through my heart and know my thoughts, see and filter out any wicked way in me, and keep hold of my hand and lead me in the way everlasting.
It is a beautiful hymn, a hymn of knowing how much God loves us…and it is a hymn that is true for every person. Mr. Rogers once said, “When I say it’s you I like, I’m talking about that part of you that knows that life is far more than anything you can ever see or hear or touch. That deep part of you that allows you to stand for those things without which humankind cannot survive. Love that conquers hate, peace that rises triumphant over war, and justice that proves more powerful than greed.”
This week, each night, I invite you to pray, “Thank you for me” and just be quiet and still and wonder what is sifting out, what God has knit into the fabric of your being, and where God is leading you. Amen.