WORLD COMMUNION SUNDAY
Kirkland Congregational Church United
Church of Christ
October 4, 2009
In 1936,
during a time of fear and growing tension, the first Sunday in October, for the
first time, was celebrated as World Wide Communion Sunday in Presbyterian
churches in the United States and overseas. From the beginning, other
denominations were invited to participate, and over the decades the idea has
spread.
REFLECTION
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese,
harsh and exciting—over and over announcing your place in the family of things.
--Mary Oliver
|
UCC Missionary Letters
shared as the message in the Service |
Jesus answered, 'Neither this man nor
his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God's glory might be revealed in
him,' – John 9:3
This letter comes
from the Reverend Scott Couper in South Africa: Rev. Couper
works with the kwaZulu Natal HIV and AIDS Desk of the United Congregational
Church of Southern Africa in Durban, South Africa.
Nomvula (pronounced nom-voo'-lah) Shale is HIV positive,
but that doesn't stop her from speaking out! Nomvula travels from church
to church in South Africa, defying taboos and the stigma of disease in order to
provide words of comfort and assurance to those who are drowning in
silence. Yesterday she was at Highway Hospice; tomorrow she will be at
King Edward Hospital. Today, she counseled two in the parking lot who
were too scared to seek help. What for many would be the harbinger of
hopelessness is for Nomvula the key that enables her to communicate and be
trusted by all who come to her. Why is she HIV positive? She says:
"The Scriptures tell us 'So the glory of God might be revealed!'"
Nomvula communicates her message to the church, to the
government, to the schools, and to the people. She hosts a talk radio
show and writes weekly in the newspaper. She leads the HIV and AIDS Desk
of the United Congregational Church of Southern Africa, which enables local
churches to strengthen their own outreach to their communities.
With the aid of Global Ministries, Nomvula and the HIV
and AIDS Desk work together to fight the goliath of the AIDS pandemic in
Africa, through such things as grants to purchase life saving medications,
funds for a home-based care project, a new house at the Cebelihle
(seh-bah-lee'-lay) Children's Home and new accommodation for the
Siyabathanda (see-yah-bah-tan'-dah), literally "We are loving them"
ministry in Noodsberg.
The silence about HIV/AIDS needs to be broken - Nomvula
shatters it. In a world in need of hope and direction, Nomvula lives her
life the way that God wills the church to be.
"Truly I tell you, just as you
did it to one of the least of these…you did it to me." – Matthew 25:40
This letter comes
from the Reverend John Campbell-Nelson in Indonesia and East Timor. John Campbell-Nelson is a UCC missionary serving with the
Evangelical Christian Church of Timor. East Timor is a nation that achieved its independence from
Indonesia in 1999.
Much has changed in Indonesia over the last 25 years, and
many people's lives have improved. But the shift from a traditional to a
"modern" way of life is a constant source of social conflict.
The hidden constant in this conflict is the role of personal relationships and
social status: you are who you know, and who knows you. If you don't know
anybody, you are nobody.
That realization has been haunting me lately, in the form
of a dead baby. Her name was Rita Norlina Selan. Her mother died
when Rita was a few weeks old. Her father is a farm laborer who had no
money. Unable to buy milk, he fed her rice water and sugared tea.
Rita starved to death.
This sort of thing happens in the hills of Timor all too
often. But in Rita's case, it happened less than a mile from our
house. The milk she needed was sitting on a shelf in our pantry.
The car that could have taken her to the hospital (or her mother before her)
was parked in our garage. So why didn't she get the help she
needed? Because her father didn't know us, and we didn't know him.
When asked why he didn't come to us for help, he said he was malu (translate
that as a combination of shy, ashamed, and afraid). He knew who we were
and where we lived, but he did not feel socially important enough to make
requests of the "Big White People."
Rita reminds me that social analyses of the causes of
poverty and training on nutrition and public health, while important, are
secondary. What is of primary importance is building the kind of
community where no one is nobody. That's the kind of community that Jesus
worked to create, and it's the kind of community we have yet to become.
I was naked and you gave me clothing,
I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me. –
Matthew 25:36
This letter comes from Tim Rose, one of our missionaries in France. Tim
Rose is a UCC missionary with the Reformed Church of France, working primarily
with African refugees in the resettlement process.
As a prison chaplain, I met Thomas when he served time
for drug trafficking. During our visits we talked about the Christian
faith, morals, family and plans for the future. When he was released from
prison he asked to be baptized, and he now holds a steady job and has a
wonderful fiancée. This is the confession of faith that Thomas wrote:
Confession of
Faith
My life is
similar to many of your own lives,
When I came into this world I started to cry, and it wasn't for the last time,
Then my mother put me to her breast and I smiled, and it wasn't for the last
time,
My life has had its share of ups and downs, moments of joy and moments of
sorrow, of good and bad surprises.
After all these years of happiness and sadness I can assert that I was never alone;
someone in the silence, in those secret places, was with me.
Many times I could feel his presence, sometimes comforting, other times
inspiring, and sometimes calming. That outstretched hand, those open arms, that
warmth in the cold night, that voice in the desert...it is Him, my Savior, it
is Our Lord.
Yes, I believe in God, in Jesus and in the Holy Spirit.
I believe that he is the origin of all things,
I believe that he is just and that he loves all of us equally,
I believe in his word and in that of Jesus, his son, who he sent to help us
find peace, love and eternal life.
Even though he was only a humble carpenter, I believe that he had the strength
and the courage to offer us his life and to die on the cross for us. And,
despite my rational side, I believe that he is resurrected and that he
accompanies each of our steps.
I believe in forgiveness, which is so precious to Him.
I believe in His love,
But above all, I believe that he is alive and that he is with us today.
And these are the reasons that inspire me today to witness to my faith and my
love for Him before you all.
This letter was written by Andrew & Ellen Collins, missionaries in
Nepal. Andrew & Ellen Collins are
former UCC missionaries with the United Mission to Nepal.
Nima (Nee'-ma)had been coming to church for weeks, and
you'd think she had always been a Christian. She knew all the songs,
raised her hands and prayed out loud like everybody else, and read the
scriptures half a syllable ahead of the others. But when communion
Saturday came along, just before the elements were served, Nima, like all the
other non-baptized worshippers, would quietly get up and go outside. In
Nepal, communion is offered to all who have publicly declared their faith in Christ
and who have been baptized. The pastor makes it very clear that everyone
else is welcome to the church service, but must step outside at communion time.
I would watch Nima go and I
silently prayed that she would not feel rejected. I hoped that this
seeming lack of inclusiveness on the part of the church would not dampen her
interest in Christ.
"Are you kidding?" she answered, when I finally
got up the courage to ask her. "The church is the only place in this
country where I, a woman, am truly welcome. Where I, rejected by my
family for marrying out of my caste, am accepted. This is the only group
of people who welcome me in, despite the fact that I have been treated for
mental illness. Even untouchables and lepers are allowed in! Here I
find rich and poor—educated and illiterate—sitting together, singing together,
sharing a Bible or a hymnbook."
“Yes, but…communion…,” I started to say. She had
already walked off, arm-in-arm with a lady deacon of the church.
Several months had passed and one Saturday I missed
church for some reason. Later that day a Christian friend phoned to say
that I should have been there – Nima had stayed for communion! I found
out that Nima and her husband had been baptized earlier in the week, and I had
missed her first meal at the "welcome table"! I had known she
was attending a class for new believers, and I knew she was growing in her
faith, but I did not know that she had been baptized. When I met Nima at
her tiny rented room the next day she beamed at me. "I am a baptized
Christian. And now I stay in church for the whole time! What a
great privilege!" she exclaimed. Nima was delighted. I was
delighted too.
But the thought did cross my mind how some Saturdays,
after sitting through two hours of church—my legs half-asleep from sitting
cross-legged on the floor and my brain exhausted from following the sermon in
Nepali (neh-pah'-lee)—I chose to exit with those who had no choice but to leave
before communion was served. I so easily passed up what Nima considered a
prize. I am constantly amazed at how God has taught me and humbled me
over the many years I have spent in Nepal, through people like Nima. She
rekindled in me that day the passion to be present at the table, because, like
she said, it is truly a great privilege.