Jesus Wants to Save Christians - Chapter Six

In Egypt – there is an endless cycle of despair. This is where Exodus begins, without hope. And God is nowhere to be found. That is what makes the story of Exodus so compelling. A new day is about to dawn. And it will begin tonight. Because God has heard the cry of the people, and God has come to do something about their oppression.
On the night of the exodus, every Jewish man was instructed to take a lamb “for his family, one for each household,” to sacrifice it, and to “eat the meat roasted over the fire… with your cloak tucked into your belt, your sandals on your feet and your staff in your hand. Eat it in haste; it is the Lord’s Passover.” (Exodus 12:3, 8, & 11) For Israel, the symbol of revolution is a lamb.
Pharaoh is being judged. Plaques have brought the world’s superpower to its knees, but before the journey can begin, there’s a meal - a meal unlike any other. And central to this Passover meal is the command never to forget it. Never forget your despair & hopelessness. Never forget that you were rescued from slavery & oppression. Exodus 12:26-27
John the Baptist declared; “look, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” (John 1:29) And what does Jesus do on the night he’s betrayed and arrested? He has a Passover meal with his disciples. Jesus takes the ritual remembrance of that night unlike any other and he makes it about himself. For Jesus, his coming death is about the new exodus.
And what is our response to this? In the Scriptures, it’s written again and again that we are to remember and be thankful. The Greek word for thankful is from the verb eucharizomai. It’s from this word that we get the English word Eucharist, the “good gift.” Jesus is God’s good gift to the world.
The church is “the body of Christ”. The church is a living Eucharist, because followers of Christ are living Eucharists. A Christian is a living Eucharist, allowing her body to be broken and her blood to be poured out for the healing of the world.
Writer Anne Lamott says that the most powerful sermon in the world is two words: “Me too.” Me too – When you’re struggling, when you are hurting, wounded, limping, doubting, questioning, barely hanging on, moments away from another relapse, and somebody can identify with you – someone knows the temptations that are at your door, somebody has felt the pain that you are feeling, when someone can look you in the eyes and say, “Me too,” and they actually mean it – it can save you. When you aren’t judged, or lectured, or looked down upon, but somebody demonstrates that they get it, that they know what it’s like, that you aren’t alone, that’s “me too.”
Paul understands that the power of the Eucharist comes from its weakness, not its strength. Paul doesn’t say, “To the strong I became strong.” He only says, “To the weak I am weak.” At the heart of the church, in the soul of the Eucharist, is identification with the suffering of another human being. The church says to the world, “Me too.”
Jesus’ death, the breaking of his body and the pouring of his blood, is for Paul an end to a whole system of “commands and regulations.” And among those commands and regulations is the wall in the temple the divided the one group of people, the Jews, from the other group of people, the Gentiles. Jesus has made peace. “His purpose was to create in himself one new humanity out of the two, thus making peace, and in one body to reconcile both of them to God through the cross by which he put to death their hostility. (Ephesians 2:14-16) Peace has been made. A church is where peace has been made.
In the new humanity our world gets bigger, our perspective goes from black-and- white to color, our sensitivities are heightened, we’re rescued from sameness and uniformity, because the wall has come down and peace has been made. A church is the new humanity on display. All of these people – who are divided, who never sit down and listen to each other – in the new humanity, in the church, they meet, they engage, they interact, they begin to feel what the other feels, and the dividing wall of hostility crumbles.
This is why it is very dangerous when a church becomes known for being hip, cool, and trendy. The new humanity is not a trend. When everybody shares the same story, when there is no listening to other perspectives, no stretching and expanding and opening up – that’s when the new humanity is in trouble.
The way of Jesus is the path of descent. It’s about our death. It’s our willingness to join the world in its suffering, it’s our participation in the new humanity, it’s our weakness calling out to others in their weakness. What does it look like for us to break ourselves open and pour ourselves out for the healing of these people in this time in this place?
It’s written in the letter to the Hebrews that they shouldn’t give up meeting together because they should “consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds.” (Hebrews 10:24) The phrase “good deeds” comes from the Hebrew word mitzvot, which refers to actions taken to heal and repair the world. The Eucharist is ultimately about what we do out there, in the flow of everyday life. Church is people – people who live a certain way in the world.
How are people taught to keep the exodus, the grace of God, alive in their lives? By remembering the poor. When you give unconditionally, you will be reminded of the God who gives unconditionally. When you extend grace to others in their oppression, you are reminded of the grace extended to you in yours. Every time we take part in the Eucharist, we’re reminded that we were each slaves and God rescued us. The church must cling to her memory of exodus, because if that memory is forgotten, the church may forget the poor, and if the poor are forgotten, the church may forget what it was like to be enslaved, and that would be forgetting the grace of God. And that would be forgetting who we are.
Our standing in solidarity with the single parent, the unemployed, the refugee, our joining the God of the oppressed to work for justice in the world, doesn’t just make a difference for those who are suffering – it rescues us. The church, the Eucharist, says no to religiously sanctioned despair. The Eucharist is an invitation to be the new humanity. To suffer, to bleed, to open the heart, to roll up the sleeves, to have hope that God has a plan to put the world back together, and it’s called the church. In the Eucharist, there is always hope. Hope for the poor, and hope for the rich.
The Eucharist is about people with the power empowering the powerless to make a better life for themselves.
The Eucharist is not fair. Giving to those who can’t give in return, that’s not fair. Breaking yourself open and pouring yourself out for people who may never say thank you, that’s not fair. Because God is not fair. This is a God who is defined by action on behalf of the oppressed. God is about giving the good gift. Jesus is God’s good gift for the healing of the world. The church is Jesus’ body, a good gift for the healing of the world.
The Eucharist is about the church setting the table for the whole world. The Eucharist is about the new humanity. The Eucharist is about God’s dream for the world.
The Eucharist is saying yes to human community. It’s about the freeing of human conscience to experience the total acceptance of God, and it is about human community and its right and longing to be free. It is the way to a universal religion adequate to the challenge of saving human community and the ultimate renewal of all things. The church is the living, breathing, life-giving, system-confronting, empire- subverting picture of the new humanity.
Jesus has rescued us. His blood equals our redemption. He’s the good gift. The church says yes to the good gift. The church is the good gift, for the world.