If He Truly Is The Host

Luke 22:1-13 Rom 5:15-17 Isaiah 25:6

During this month we’ve had my Mother In Law staying with us and she loves cookery programmes on television. Sometimes I cast a cursory glance at what’s on and one day I got sidetracked for a few minutes by a programme called “Come Dine With Me”.

Basically there are 5 people and they take it in turns to eat a meal in each other’s houses and give marks out of ten for what the experience was like. The woman I saw went to elaborate lengths to make sure the dining table was looking good before everyone arrived. Measuring the distance between wine glass and napkin, double checking for the slightest speck on the serving spoons, the sort of attention to etiquette never likely to feature at dinner in St Matthew’s Vicarage. She spent so much time over the table, she got all behind with the meal itself and what was served up was, well it was overcooked splodge really.

Bless her, because all she wanted was to be the perfect host and to have everything “just so” for her guests and the channel 5 daytime TV cameras.

We know this evening’s gospel reading so well.

Jesus issues instructions for Peter, James and John to go and organise the Passover celebrations. They are to go into the city and meet a man carrying a water jar and he will lead them to an upper room.

They had probably assumed there would be work to do when they got there. Provisions to buy. A table to lay, and all the rest. Imagine their surprise when the man opens the door and they find there not just an empty hired room, but everything ready, everything set out, all down to the finest detail.

The bread and wine that was going to change everything, all ready to share.

That fateful common into which Jesus and Judas would dips their morsels, in position. Cushions fresh and beautiful all set up for reclining upon around the traditional low table. A basin and a towel in the corner from which presumably, a servant would wash their feet on arrival.

Jesus was always going on ahead of people and here he is at it again.

He had gone to that Upper Room and lovingly and thoughtfully prepared it for the Passover evening.

Prepared it – knowing it was his last meal with them and there was something special he needed to institute? Prepared it – just thinking it was one more Passover?

Who knows!

Prepared it, I would say, because he was the host and his disciples the guests.

In Timothy Radcliffe’s Lent book for this year “Why go to church – the drama of the Eucharist” – he makes this point strongly and links it with the next meal they would share together –namely – The Lakeside Breakfast in John 21 – where once again – Jesus is the host. Down their on the beach they find him , one step ahead as usual – cooking fish on the morning they had caught absolutely nothing.

“Come and have breakfast” – It’s a wonderful resurrection cry – It’s a wonderful eucharistic cry – which calls them and calls us – to feast as guests where he is the host.

I have to stop myself from getting all this the wrong way round,

I have to stop myself from thinking that this is St Matthew’s church into which we invite Jesus. That as celebrant – I’m the host, you are guests and Jesus is some shadowy spiritual presence who might or might not show up.

I remind myself that the Priest’s wafer held up at the consecration is called the host – and that this is Jesus’ rightful title and place at the Eucharistic feast. I bow the knee in that moment not out of a strange grand ritual – but to get in my rightful place –celebrant, yes maybe but also a guest like the rest of us.

What would it mean for our worship and our spiritual life if we were to really assume the position of the guest at this feast rather than think we host our Lord.

In this day and age, if you invite guests to a special meal, they might bring something with them. A bottle of wine, some chocolates or maybe some flowers.

If we are guests at this feast – what is it we’re bringing? Not just batteries to be recharged. Not just a sense of duty and obedience – but something to give of ourselves to show appreciation.

Raising our voices in singing – however croaky.

Saying the prayers with meaning – not a humble grumble.

And also daring to offer that yearning within our hearts that we might be used by Him, to shine forth with His light. Truly some sort of sacrifice of thanks and praise.

The guests then cast themselves upon the mercy of the host. The hosts lead the way, the guest follows and is content to be nourished by whatever is given.

Receiving it gladly even if we don’t like Cauliflower Cheese!

If worship fails to match up to expectations. If God fails to touch us in the way we would like – good guests go with the new experience – and maybe discover something new and surprising.

When the meal is ended and it’s time to go – there is gratitude matched with some action.

“Can we help with all that washing up” expecting the answer – No, you’re our guests!

Once someone did say – well if you’re offering Vicar I’ll show you where the sink is!

So I’ve cut that out of my etiquette!

But we express our thanks and it is heartfelt.

At the Eucharist, the guest expresses thanks by going out into the world to host God’s love to others – to make Eucharist in all sorts of places and all sorts of people – who may not even realise the sacramental nature of what motivates you.

What do you bring?

To what extent will you let the host lead you?

How will you express your gratitude?

Three questions for any guest whatever the nature of the feast.

I’m drawn back to that marvellous poem of George Herbert’s where the guest hovers at the edge of the feast, not believing, not accepting that they could have a place at table. Keeping their distance from the place laid out for them

“You must sit down” says Love “and taste my meat”

So I did sit and eat!

RH 29.3.09