Those Who Are Not Here (and Are)

Saturday Morning

            When Jews celebrate the Seder meal—a annual home/family observance recalling the Passover and God’s deliverance of the Chosen People from Egypt—a place at the table is always set for the prophet Elijah. A plate and an empty chair, waiting should the prophet appear to announce the coming of the Messiah. Elijah, who by his absence, is very present at the meal.

              Years ago, Zan Holmes—a famous African-American United Methodist pastor from Texas—preached to a group of us clergy in Morganton. Dramatically, he took an empty chair and put it by the pulpit and said, “We invite Jesus to sit here, right here, among us, to listen, to witness, to correct and bless us.” It was a powerful moment. We could not see Jesus but we surely felt he was there.

              Here, today, I am reminded of both those things.

The convention floor is nearly full of delegates, as you can see, but there are still quite a few empty tables inside the bar, and quite a few more outside. (Observers such as myself, and there are three or four hundred of us, I am guessing, right now, are on the mezzanine level).  It could be that some delegations have not arrived. Maybe the plan calls for working groups and the extra tables give the delegates room to move if they need to.   

While I am not sure what the empty tables signify administratively, I am going to take a cue from the Seder and from Dr. Holmes and consider them act of spiritual remembrance and prophetic symbolism: that we have set places, here, for Jesus and his invisible children, for the Wesley’s, Coke and Asbury, and all the ones who are a part of our history or part of our mission and all the little ones to whom we minister. They are powerfully present by their absence, invited to witness what we do and how we do it, to correct us for the Love of God and Love of neighbor, and to bless us moving forward. we cannot see but who are among us and with us nonetheless.

              I made it in past the first wave of protesters. Not many of them this morning—only two where I was—and I suspect they are from Westboro Baptist Church or some such, with predictable signs and hatred. I was walking just behind another guy as we approached The Dome. The two with signs swooped in on him which left me room to slip past. I looked back, felt both the guilt and relief (schadenfreude) that antelopes feel when the lion gets the other one. I guess if I were more of a Christian (or a tougher antelope) I would have gone back to help my brother extricate himself. Soon, though, he was right behind me entering the auditorium. He got free quickly enough.

              A group of Queer Clergy have stood to sing and stomp a little bit. They have signs and banners of their own. They are just announcing their presence. I expect we will hear and see more.

              The most of the day today is taken up with prayers and praise. So far we have prayed for various missional needs in Europe, sung How Great Thou Art in Swedish and Russian (at least; I was a little late). Right now, a wonderful, WONDERFUL praise team from somewhere in Africa is playing an upbeat song and it is infectious. While the drums and bass continue underneath, an African Bishop is calling us to “Pray, Pray, PRAY! For the Church! For God to Build the Church! Pray LOUDLY for the UNITED METHODIST CHURCH!”

              Over the course of the day, till 4, there will be various times and ways of praying. We are being reminded of how global, how diverse is the church, how polyvalent our ways of praise and praying, but all showing love of God. We are being asked not just to SAY prayers, but to let our prayers be a means of hearing--the way God speaks to us.

              The bishop is saying, “We pray to Christ, the Prince of Peace. We don’t need a script to pray. We pray. We pray as the Holy Spirit leads. If it is time for lunch, but we feel the Spirit, we pray. Our stomachs can wait.”

              Listening to this man, you want to believe that God will answer his prayers, and those who pray with him, that “this work will continue and grow and prosper.”

              I pray that this morning and afternoon is more than an empty, futile exercise. What I mean is that the day is designed, it is written, to help us listen to God and to each other. What I fear is that we have already quit listening, if we ever started. God, make me a liar and you be the Truth.

              We have set a place for you here. Though we cannot see you, be powerfully present with us. Amen.

 

(The Observers area to my left...