The Hope of the Table

A Sermon for World Communion Sunday

By Lanny Peters, Pastor

Oakhurst Baptist Church

October 7, 2001

Psalm 137 and Psalm 23

The assigned psalms from the lectionary in September, 2001 could well have been chosen to fit the mood of our country. In the middle of the month images from Psalm 79 described a city lying in ruins and dead bodies with no one to bury them. The assigned psalm, 137, for the first Sunday in October begins by expressing feelings of despair and depression, speaking of a sadness so deep it feels as if there will never be singing and joy in the land again.

The psalmist next thinks about those who created this situation, the enemy who destroyed their great city. Grief turns to anger as the writer remembers the enemy who said, “Tear it down! Level it to its very foundations.” Anger then turns to hatred. “You devastator. Happy shall be those who pay you back what has been done to us! Happy shall be those who take your little ones and bash them against the rock.”

And that’s the end of Psalm 137--with a call for revenge that says forget the collateral damage. After all, they did not care about our innocent people who died!

The psalms do not stand alone. The psalms are an ensemble--a chorus crying to God about what it means to be human and seeking meaning in a world where things often don’t make sense. The psalms are prayers, not battle plans. If Psalm 137 is an example of what many people understandably are feeling these days, another voice from Psalm 23 speaks of the hope of what may lie beyond that.

Psalm 23 was cited often during the weeks following September 11, including by our President. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.”

During a visit to China this past summer, church leaders told me this verse was the one they held in their hearts during the dark days of the so-called Cultural Revolution, when churches were closed, Bibles were banned and Christian leaders were exiled to hard labor for as much as ten years. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.”

Psalm 23 contains another important image, maybe even more vital in our time. It is not as often quoted: “You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies, you anoint my head with oil, my cup overflows.”

According to Psalm 23, we will know we have made it through the valley of the shadow of death when we sit at table with our enemy. Jesus spoke of and demonstrated this by sitting at table with those whom he knew were out to get him.

In my travels this summer I experienced sitting at table with citizens of a with whom we are often in tension. When I was a child, if someone were digging a deep hole you would joke, “What are you doing, trying to dig to China?” I would look at a globe and think of China as a place where everything was upside down. I never imagined in my wildest dreams I would someday travel there.

Being in China was a little like being upside down. When I have traveled in Europe, I could listen carefully to people speak and pick up a phrase now and then. There’s something about the Chinese language, the way it is spoken and written that seemed impenetrable. It always had been enchanting to eat Chinese food with chopsticks, but I never comprehended the idea of seven billion people who preferred to eat that way, not until I was actually there. In fact, I still shake my head every time I think that one out of every five people in the world is Chinese.

I had a long conversation with a Chinese guide about the one-child-per-family policy. He explained patiently why it was a necessary policy for the common good. I told him I could not envision Americans ever agreeing to live with a law like that. He laughed and said, “Well, you’re not Chinese.”

As a child and even into my adult years, I had inherited Cold War images of an evil Communist country trying to take over the world. China was the enemy. Many of my perceptions had changed, but I was still mostly ignorant about Chinese history.

Traveling and talking to political and business leaders was eye opening and thoroughly fascinating. We worshipped in several churches and met a number of times with church leaders. We heard amazing stories of how the Chinese church has changed over the years. We talked with those who led the church after the Communist Revolution and Westerners were forced to leave the country. The church had struggled to survive, especially financially, but it was also a period where they learned to do things for themselves that had been done for them in a paternalistic way.

Then came the Cultural Revolution, when all the churches and seminaries were closed and church leaders were sent to do hard labor on farms and in factories. A woman pastor told us of those difficult years, but she also spoke of learning to identify with the poor as a result.

We heard of the revival of the church, beginning around 1980 when new laws were enacted that protected churches and Buddhist temples. Most churches were reopened and now are growing at an enormous rate. We worshipped in overflowing churches, and once witnessed 65 people baptized in a single service, presided over by two women pastors. A new church is being opened every two days in China.

Most of our conversations with church leaders were insightful, candid, and warm. On our next to last evening in China, we were guests at an incredible banquet in our honor. It was presided over by 88-year-old Bishop Ding, a man who has seen it all. He’s the one who when asked how difficult it was to deal with the Communist structures said, “Well, we do okay working with the Communists; it’s the fundamentalists that are harder to deal with.”

The dinner was about 10 courses, alternating between Chinese and Western dishes, and sometimes creatively combining the two. Musical entertainment represented both east and West, and there were plenty of toasts. The meal was elegant and a pure delight.

I sat beside Dr. Zhen, a professor at the seminary in Nanjing. He spoke excellent English, and was a fine conversationalist. At one point early in the meal we were served a dish with peanuts. I had been doing okay with my chopsticks until I tried picking up peanuts. I gave the peanuts a couple of tries, then decided I would pass on them. Without a hint he had noticed, Dr. Zhen reached down and began eating his peanuts with his hands, wordlessly inviting me to relax and enjoy myself. It was a small gesture, but touched me deeply. It was a meal I shall never forget, and I went away transformed in an important way. It was a table spread by people who I once might have thought of as enemies, who now felt like true friends.

On our last night in China, we visited homes for a meal. A family of three welcomed me into their home. The woman spoke English well, as did her fifteen-year-old daughter. The man spoke very little English, but a lot more than I spoke Chinese.

It was a wonderful dinner followed by delightful, lively conversation. At one point the husband requested his wife to ask us if we had heard about the spy plane that had gone down in China. That led to a spirited conversation about freedom of the press. We talked of differences in how we raised children, and we laughed a lot at misunderstandings about the other’s country. After dinner, we took a walk. We passed a pharmacy, and I was surprised to learn you did not have to have a doctor’s prescription to buy drugs. People were cooking and serving food on the streets. I told my hosts that in the U.S. you could not just walk in and buy drugs, and you would have to have a health license to serve food. They said, “It sounds like your government is very controlling.”

I had a sense that this is the way that perceptions change, with ordinary people sharing a meal and conversation.

Throughout my travels, meals became an important, perhaps even central part of the experience. Traveling in the Philippines with Graham Walker of the McAfee School of Theology and formerly a missionary in the country was a pleasure because of his love of the people. We ate many kinds of food with many different people: students and faculty at the seminary, leaders in the church, and missionaries. I look back fondly on a meal with Graham’s friends Jenny, and Nori, and Beth, an Indian meal in Manila, and another in a Cuban restaurant. In Hong Kong, our family had a wonderful Father’s Day meal with the parents of an Oakhurst member, Laura Moye, that included Jerry and Ruth and some members of the Chinese Baptist church they have belonged to many years.

Our family had many wonderful meals with Chinese friends in Singapore, including one in an Indian restaurant where we ate food served on bamboo leaves with our hands. We had a fun meal with trekkers at a roadside house in Chiang Mai. In Japan, we had a vegetarian meal served in a traditional Zen center.

My journey could be told by the meals I ate. Food is where our common humanity meets.

Jesus chose a table and a shared meal as a symbol of his presence among us. The realm of Christ is one that fulfills the vision of Psalm 23 as well as these words from Jesus: “Then people will come from east and west, and north and south, and will eat in the kingdom of God.” (Luke 13:29) Let us pray and hope and work towards World Communion.