I am now on the other side of the communion table. What I see and hear are different from presiding at the table. Instead of an assemblage of heads, I see a cup and a loaf of bread. Instead of the memorized ritual of holy communion, I hear words directed at me. Instead of the precise movement of the elders, I focus on selecting a choice morsel of bread and the nearest container of grape juice. Instead of the sound of the communion glasses striking the wood holders, I quietly place mine. I am frozen in the moment. Though surrounded by the congregation, I am alone; I am in a relationship with God. I wonder why?

I found my answer in these words from Wayne Meeks: "The cup of blessing and the broken bread represent 'partnership' with Christ."* Holy communion is viewed differently. It can be a simple sharing, such as the time when I visited a family living in a remote area. The family asked for communion, and the only things available were a stale crust of bread and cherry soda pop. Communion is also a well-rehearsed, choreographed event with the heavenly sounds of sopranos. I recall one communion service which involved fifty male elders, all dressed in grey striped trousers and tailed jackets.

Both communion services stressed that holy communion is not just a memorial meal or a sacrifice but a visible opportunity to express one's partnership with Jesus. We connect and re-connect to Jesus and His agenda through holy communion.

At the Last Supper, one disciple did not enter into the partnership, and others needed time to sign onto the partnership. Today, that partnership is easily clouded and rejected.

Every Sunday, my minister announces what is needed to supply emergency bags of groceries. He reminds the congregation that we have a partnership with Jesus: "I do not want to send them away hungry." (Matthew 15:32b NRSV)

Once a month, a church elder tells a story about Presbyterians Sharing and how what is collected becomes someone's pay cheque, rent on a project, or seed money towards self-sustaining projects. We are not alone; we are in a partnership.

At the entrance to my church is an old workman's boot. The congregation is invited to toss in a dollar coin to help meet the needs of those who ring the church's doorbell looking for help, because our partnership agreement recognizes that "you always have the poor with you." (Mark 14:7a NRSV)

Prayer: Gracious God, as we join the circle of prayer, stir our hearts into action. May no discouragement or disappointment or weariness threaten the partnership that we have established. Increase our love of the gospel, our love of the church, and our love of Your people. Amen.
* Wayne A. Meeks. The First Urban Christians. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2nd edition 2003, page 99.

Heaven is a kind of location. The importance of locating deceased loved ones is advanced by Dr. J. William Worden, who taught at the Harvard Medical School and Biola University. He understands the process of grieving as involving four tasks (things that must be done!).*

• The first task is to accept that death has taken place.
• The second task is to experience the pain of losing someone.
• The third task is to accommodate the loss into the survivor's daily life.
• The fourth task is to locate the loved one, which allows the survivor to start a new life.

These tasks apply to all kinds of losses and changes in our lives:

• the loss of cohorts and public figures;
• losses that come in multiples;
• losses other than death, such as part of one's body, financial losses, fire losses, loss of mental functioning, loss of home, having to move, accidents, and loss of health;
• a death that involves a court hearing tends to delay the grieving process;
• a soldier missing in action makes all the tasks difficult;
• the loss of a child/children reverses the expected order of loss;
• death from mass shootings is so overwhelming that the process may take a long time to begin and never seem to end;
• the closer that a loved one is to the survivor, the more poignant the loss.

John 14:2 is often read at funerals. It speaks of the location of the departed loved ones: "In my Father's house are many rooms." Heaven is thought of as a house with rooms. It is a simple image and allows for location to take place. The visualization is followed by a promise: "If it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you." (NIV)

The idea of a location (a place where we can safely leave the departed) is expressed twice. We can always return to the location in prayer, through meditation, in our thoughts, by visiting the burial site, viewing photographs, or in some simple act of remembering, like memorial flowers in church, lighting a candle, releasing a balloon, planting a memorial garden, or through volunteering.

The idea of the task of location means that mourners are able to carry on living, which, for some people, can be quite a challenge.

Prayer: Gracious God, we leave in Your eternal care our loved ones and those whom we know are grieving. Strengthen our own grieving hearts as we place ourselves in Your loving care. In Jesus' name, we pray. Amen.
* Worden, J. William. Grief Counseling and Grief Therapy. New York: Springer, 2018.

The age of being politically correct is a struggle for some people. Ways of speaking and behaving have changed and are changing. The second great commandment — "You shall love your neighbour as yourself" (Matthew 22:39 NRSV) — is the new normal (though for Jews and Christians it always was the norm). However, when we encounter the neighbour and hear an unknown language, or view clothing that is strange, or smell things being cooked that are unfamiliar, or do not see ourselves in the neighbour, we instantly fail to love the neighbour.

The Gospel of John strings one vignette after another, and each one invariably shocks readers. One of the vignettes is about a man born blind. A discussion ensues as to whether or not his blindness was due to some sin committed by his parents before he was born. Jesus dismisses the notion and restores the man's eyesight. The story is a simple one with a huge challenge — what about our own spiritual blindness? Do you see the neighbour who speaks Spanish? Do you look away from the man and his turban? Do you complain when the air carries the aroma of curry?

As I was driving to lead worship at a country church, I spotted a man walking along the Trans-Canada Highway. He was not walking facing the traffic but his colourful robes flowed freely in the prairie wind. Stopping the car, I greeted the man with the Namaste gesture. I discovered that he was walking across Canada to bring attention to the situation faced by immigrants. I gave the man a blessing and wished him a safe journey. The next day, I learned that soon after my brief meeting with him, someone tried to run him down with a truck, and when he reached his destination for that day's walk, he was refused accommodation at a motel.

Astonishing things can happen when we take literally the words of Jesus about loving our neighbour. It will change us. It will change relationships. It will be the realization of what Rabbi Marmur describes as the very essence of spiritual maturity, and that is the refusal to slam doors.* As we join the circle of prayer, let us each pray:

Prayer: Gracious God, I confess my blindness, my refusal to hear, and my reluctance to speak with my neighbours. Isolating myself from others is my sin. As I take one step away from my sin, and as I risk focusing my eyes on others, I am astonished by the changes in me. Amen.
* Harpur, Tom. Life after Death. Toronto, Ontario: McClelland & Stewart, 1991, page 215.

Proverbs 18:16a – A gift opens doors. (NRSV)

In 1948, J. Calvin Reid published a collection of stories under the title Birdlife in Wington. Wington is an imaginary town, and all the characters are birds with very human qualities.

One of my favourite Wington stories is about a church usher. He greets people at the door and then walks ahead of them down the aisle. He stops, turns, and gestures with his extended arm where the people may be seated. Instead of finding grateful people, the usher discovers that the people slipped into a pew towards the back of the church. His face turns red and slightly embarrassed as he makes his way to the door of the church, prepared once again to give the gift of welcoming.

Today, the ushers in my church do not lead people to a pew, for they are greeters, not ushers. However, greeters and ushers still do an important job: offering the gift of hospitality, opening the door to worship and fellowship, and to the congregation and its work. They open the door of friendship, help, and support.

The Old and New Testaments both prize hospitality. There were no Tim Hortons® or McDonalds® where a hungry traveller could be nourished. Family members, friends, and even strangers were known to offer food, shelter, and safety. Back in the 1960s, the churches that I served never locked their doors. Often in the morning, a note of thanks was found for shelter, safety, and food deliberately placed in the kitchen for travellers. Today, churches are locked. Ten minutes after worship begins, two men lock the doors of the church where I worship. Though modern times call for new measures, the church's coffee hour serves the function of hospitality.

However, the church's coffee hour sometimes impedes the goal of hospitality as worshippers rush to have refreshment with their friends, leaving strangers and visitors alone. One Sunday, there were no tables and chairs, and the people formed circles with their friends and blocked out the newcomers. Another experiment took place when greeters were placed at the entrance to the coffee hour. The idea was to spot the newcomers, take them to a table, and introduce them. Sadly, this noble effort was discontinued when some so-called newcomers were actually some real old-timers who had been away. The howl of disapproval was loud.

If the gift of opening the door to a congregation is to be realized, three things must take place. Firstly, be assertive. Take the initiative and speak to someone. Secondly, volunteer to be a greeter or usher. It will be a rewarding experience. Thirdly, think of the ways that you like hospitality and offer greater hospitality to others. Strangers in our midst feel uncomfortable; they hunger for acceptance; and they want to be released from the feelings of not knowing anyone and of not fitting in. Giving the gift of hospitality opens the door of friendship, of companionship, and of acceptance.

Prayer: Gracious God, forgive us for not being attentive to the newcomers who come to worship and to be part of the time of fellowship. Forgive us for serving our own needs above those of others. We accept Your forgiveness. Help us to live as ones who open doors. In the name of Jesus, we pray. Amen.

Giuseppe Verdi (1813-1901) buried his wife and two children in 1840. Grief paralyzed him. He gave up composing. The days were dark, and the nights were worse. Visits from his music agent did not help. As one of his visits was ending and not knowing what to do, the agent left with Verdi a manuscript about the Babylonian king, Nebuchadnezzar. Verdi ignored the manuscript for some time. Slowly, the vision of a new opera began to take shape. Verdi described the process: "One day one verse, one day another, one time a note, another time a phrase, and little by little the opera was written."*

This story illustrates two skills that are essential for anyone grieving a significant loss or wanting to offer support. First, there is the support of family, friends, and professionals. The most helpful aspect of support is listening. When words are spoken, they must be non-judgmental and must not compare one loss against another.

The second grief skill is not to rush. Take time. Do what seems possible. The break with a loved one has to be incorporated into one's thinking and behaviour. The break in the relationship has to heal before reinvestment is possible. Healing takes time and effort. Verdi was lonely and lost. At some point he gave himself permission to look at the manuscript. The simple step led to two, then to three, and to more. The effort resulted in Verdi the composer finding a new life. The new fame did not take away the pain of the loss of his wife and children or memories of them, but it did keep him from joining them.

I recall hearing a presenter say that we do not need more grief therapists. What we need are more people willing to listen to grieving people. A man said to me, "My mother did not want someone to tell her how to feel. She wanted to tell someone how she was feeling."

Acts 6:1 – Now during those days, when the disciples were increasing in number, the Hellenists complained against the Hebrews because their widows were being neglected in the daily distribution of food. (NRSV)

But the neglect was more than food. A husband and wife who deliver meals to widows, invalids, and needy persons told me that delivering the box containing the warm meal is only ten per cent of what they do. The remaining ninety per cent is the visiting that takes place and the informal inquiry as to the health and safety of the recipients.

An important date in the life cycle of grief is the one-year anniversary of the loss. It is a day that seems unreal — how could a whole year have passed? It is a day when a visit, a telephone call, or being with friends is helpful and healing. It is not a day to ignore the grieving.

Prayer: Gracious God, as we join the circle of prayer, we pray for those who mourn. Reveal Your presence to them. Comfort them in this time of change and sorrow. Give us the courage to be listening neighbours. May our presence be unspoken words of sympathy, strength, and love. Amen.
* Cavanaugh, Patrick. Spiritual Moments with the Great Composers. Grand Rapids, Michigan: Zondervan, 1995, page 147.

1 Peter 5:7 – Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. (NIV)

Deuteronomy 1:31 – The Lord your God carried you, as a father carries his son. (NIV)

Margaret Fishback Powers is the author of the poem Footprints in the Sand. The poem appears on pillows, cups, and posters. The theme of the poem is that Jesus is the caring one.

Lillian Daniel has a contemporary version of a similar theme. It is the story of a farmer taking his hog to market.

The man picked up a huge hog and carried it for a short distance and then put it down, panting and sweating. He repeated the process with determination. Suddenly, the farmer was overtaken by a jogger who commented that it was going to take the whole day to get to the market, but if he drove, it might take a few minutes. The farmer replied that as far as he knew, time meant nothing to the hog.*

Jesus was a good communicator. He knew that the majority of His hearers could not read. However, the inability to read was compensated for by the ability to remember, to recall stories, and to be able to share them. The skill that Jesus used is known as the telling of parables, which are a type of analogy or a succinct lesson with a specific meaning. The English word "parable" is from the Greek word "parabole" and the Latin word "parabola" meaning a comparison.

The comparison between the farmer and the jogger could also be the comparison between a healthy lifestyle and one that is so urgent that there is no time to stop, to contemplate, and to renew our spiritual and physical resources.

Another possible meaning for me of Daniel's parable is that sometimes we rush like the jogger; sometimes we take our time like the farmer; and there are times when we are like the hog: we are carried, supported, and upheld by God and friends.

Prayer: Gracious God, thank You for the times when You carried us through the trouble and turmoil in our lives. Thank You for the opportunity to appreciate our family and friends, the wonders of Your world, the help that we have received, and the work that our hands and minds achieve to Your glory and name. Amen.
* Lillian Daniel. When “Spiritual But Not Religious” Is not Enough: Seeing God in Surprising Places, Even the Church. New York: Jericho Books, 2013, pages 119-120.

Every year, we struggle with the substitution of "the holidays" for "Christmas". Schools hold winter concerts instead of Christmas concerts. Public crèches and Christian symbols are banned, and yet houses, stores, city streets, and businesses are decorated with flashing lights and bright decorations. Every business has to have its Christmas party. Why?

The psychology of Christmas is well recognized by everyone, even though the theology of Christmas is not well known. Christians observe Christmas because of the incarnation — the Word of God became flesh in Jesus and the hope of personal and social renewal became possible. Every time a Christian wishes someone "Merry Christmas", the sense of hope, newness, and making a fresh start is conveyed. The same sense of hope is experienced in the exchange of Christmas cards and letters, gifts, emails, and gatherings for dinner and a visit.

On the other hand, the psychology of Christmas is practiced in a secular way for different reasons: to thank employees, to gain a share of Christmas shopping, to show love and affection to family and friends, to have a good time, to have some light at the darkest time of year, and to have a break from the ordinary routine of life. The trimmings of Christmas might even be curtailed so as not to offend anyone.

I once said to a colleague, "Isn't it wonderful that the whole community joins in celebrating the birth of Jesus with lights, music, and decorations, even though the theology of Christmas may not be acknowledged?"

As Advent makes its way to Christmas, let us keep in mind this verse:

Isaiah 28:20 – The bed is too short to stretch out on, the blanket too narrow to wrap around you. (NIV)

Without the theology of Christmas, the bed of our life is missing something, and we need to wrap ourselves in the blanket of Christ.

Prayer: Abba Father, in this busy season, we seek the quiet centre of Your presence in our lives, illuminated by the story of the birth of Jesus. Amen.