N Nung Yay Dah M Ma Bia
October 07, 2007
N Nung Yay Dah M Ma Bia
Rev. Susan Gilbert Zencka
Texts: Habbakuk 1:1-4, 2:1-4; 2 Timothy 1:1-14; Luke 17:5-10
N Nung Yay Dah
N Nung Yay Dah oh-oh
N Nung Yay Dah M Ma Bia
N Nung Yay Dah.
This past week, Deb Knippel and I were in Louisville, Kentucky, for a Mission Celebration, with 600 U.S. Presbyterians, about 50 PCUSA missionaries, and many of our mission partners from around the world, including Rev. Vilma Yanez, moderator of the Presbyterian Church in Colombia, who preached here a year ago. We were challenged to rethink our approach to mission and to participate in global and local mission, and we learned about some of the very important work our denomination is doing, with love and respect, in partnerships with people throughout the world.
In the closing worship service, we learned the Ghanaian refrain I just sang – the words are in Dagbani, the dialect of the Dagomba tribe of northern Ghana in West Africa, and their meaning is very simple: n nung yah dah means “I have faith” or “I believe”, and m ma bia means “my mother’s child”, in other words, “my brother or sister”. M ma bia is often used as part of a greeting, such as “M ma bia, how are you?” or “M ma bia, how was your journey?” And so I greet you all this morning: M ma bia, the Lord be with you. And also with you.
I’ve never gone up to the top of the Sears Tower – I moved to the Chicago area in 1977, yet somehow never got around to it. They say you can see 4 states from the top of the Sears Tower on a clear day. And I know you can see the Sears Tower from pretty far away also, if you know what to look for. A few years, I was driving in Indiana with a friend, and she pointed out in Valparaiso a place where we could see the Sears Tower though we were over 50 miles away. Amazing – though it doesn’t look like much from that perspective.
Today we celebrate the Lord’s Supper, Communion, Eucharist – as we do each month. This is one of only two sacraments that most Protestants acknowledge – the other is baptism. A sacrament is a sacred moment; a ritual in which the church has agreed God’s grace comes to us. Although we know that we experience God in many other ways, the church believes that in Communion and Baptism, somehow we have a shared experience of God and God’s love. We don’t claim to understand it, or to be able to analyze it, but we believe that it happens. The Creator of the Universe really enters into our meal and shares in our sharing. So it would be appropriate to say as we celebrate Communion, “You can see eternity from here!” For in this holy meal which we will share together soon, is an intersection between our concrete, present, finite moment and the full presence of the living God. You can see eternity from here….
Although on its face, from the outside, like the view of the Sears Tower from Valparaiso, our communion doesn’t look like much. A pinch of bread, dipped in a little grape juice – scarcely a snack, let alone a meal. How is it that this little morsel has become the central act of the gathered church??
And in a world, when we know so much is going wrong, and there is so much to do – there are wars, global climate change, AIDS, hunger…and in our personal lives – illness, anger, debt, grief, joblessness, anxiety, strained relationships…how can this meal mean very much?
Not only are the problems experienced by humans – in a very real sense, the whole earth is at risk. And the concept of ecojustice includes not only the wholeness of the earth, but justice for all who live in it. When thousands of species are threatened with extinction, and eco-racism places toxic industries and waste in poor neighborhoods and developing nations where the desperation for jobs weakens the ability of people to hold corporations accountable, we know that all creation must be groaning, and that God who once said Creation was very good, must be in great pain. The pain of the earth also reaches eternity from here….
And this meal has always come at the intersection of suffering and hope, of earth and cosmos, for it was first offered on the night that Jesus was arrested –the impact was to take his life and shatter the small community of Jesus and the Twelve which had been in ministry together. Of course, in the shattering of that small community, the larger community of the Church in the Spirit was born, much as a butterfly emerges from the shattered cocoon of the caterpillar. But in the moment of the Last Supper, the disciples didn’t know the future into which they were being led, they only knew that the present moment, into which they had invested the past three years, the present moment is coming apart. And so there is a very real sense of the cosmos coming together out of the broken edges of this earthly experience for Jesus – so that for him also, there is the intersection of the infinite and the finite in the Last Supper. You can see eternity from here….
Not only is eternity present in our Communion meal, but we are celebrating the finite moments of the past, present and future as well. We celebrate the past because we remember the meal that Jesus shared with his disciples. And we remember the gift, freely given, of his life that would end the next day. And Jesus shared the Last Supper with his disciples in the context of the Passover meal in which they remembered the way God had saved the Hebrew people from slavery in Egypt. And as we remember the pain and hope of the people in slavery in Egypt, we are also aware of the pain and hope of people now, and so we might say along with the words of the prophet which Kay read this morning: “How long, O Lord? How long shall I cry for help and you will not listen? …destruction and violence are before me; strife and contention arise.” And as we remember the pain, and remember the past, we also remember the faithfulness of God to God’s people over time, and we remember the many times we have celebrated this feast of the church…in our childhood, at our confirmation, perhaps at a wedding or funeral, in times of grief and joy, year after year Christ has nourished us at this table… You can see eternity from here….
We celebrate the present moment as well. We gather in this place where most of us gather each week. And we gather to hear the very Word of the Living God proclaimed. And we gather to worship this God in whom we live and move and have our being. And we gather with our families. And we gather with our faith family and welcome new members today. And we gather with strangers who become family as we share this universal meal of Christ together. And we gather knowing that although God cares for all people, and speaks through all faiths, we share a special bond with those who come to know God through the revelation of Jesus. And we gather with those in the present moment beyond the reach of our limited vision, knowing that throughout the world today m ma bia, our brothers and sisters in Ghana, and Germany, and Italy and Tanzania, in China, and Spain, and Iraq and Iran and in other churches in Stevens Point and in the halls of power and the slums of all countries, where there is peace and where there is war, as we share the loaf and cup, there are others sharing the loaf and cup, so that in terms of both space and time…. You can see eternity from here….
And we celebrate the future also. We celebrate a vision of the future which is not built moment by moment upon the past, but is coming to us from the future vision of God. We cling to the words of God to Habbakuk, that “…there is still a vision.” And through the words of the prophets, we see that vision of a future in which many peoples shall come and say, "Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob; that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths…He shall judge between the nations, and shall arbitrate for many peoples; they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more. We celebrate a future in which justice shall roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream. We celebrate a future in which the wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them. We celebrate a future in which when he is revealed, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is. We celebrate a future in which we will see a new heaven and a new earth …and the river of the waters of life, bright as crystal are flowing from the throne of God…through the middle of the streets of the city. On either side of the river is the tree of life…and the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations. And you can see eternity from here….
And in our pain for the pain of the earth, our faith is often smaller than a mustard seed, and yet we know that miracles do happen, and healing does occur, and God is at work in this world, and that we are called to be part of that work, and so we need to do what we ought to do – we need to care for one another, and care for the earth, we need to bear God’s love into this world that needs it so very much. And we know, if we allow ourselves to touch our own need that we need God so very very much and so we celebrate that love as we gather here today. And as we celebrate, God feeds us. And as we celebrate the Spirit shapes us. And as we celebrate, we remember that Jesus took bread, and blessed it and broke it and gave it to his disciples – the bread is taken, blessed, broken and given, and so are we – and we realize that he takes us, as his people, his own children. And as we celebrate he blesses us, with every good gift, and with every thing we need both for God’s work and for our own lives. And as we celebrate, we come to him in our brokenness so that we may be made new, and strengthened for service. And as we celebrate we acknowledge that we, too, are given for his sake and for his glory to a world that knows him not. We ourselves are not only to bring but to be bread for a world hungry for love. We take his bread, and in eating it become his body….we take the cup and remember his asking whether we could drink the cup he has to drink, and we realize that we, too, may be poured out for his world….and we can see eternity from here.
And as we celebrate, we notice that he has taken the very stuff of this still good earth – grains and fruit from an ordinary table, and made of them an extraordinary feast in which heaven and earth, past present and future come together; and we realize that he has taken us as well, such ordinary folks, and made of us an extraordinary community in which we are bound by his love, and celebrate all that he has given us, and reach out to share his gifts with others, never worrying if we will run out, because you can see eternity from here…..
And in this world of pain and joy, of anger and hope, of hunger and love, we remember the words of the Apostle Paul to the young Timothy, words that Alessandro and Stefano read, and that we need to hear: For all these reasons, I remind you to rekindle the gift of God that is within you…for God did not give us a spirit of cowardice but rather a spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline. And we are called to work in that Spirit to speak truth to power, to defend the least of these who are victims in God’s world, and to work for justice for God’s earth and all who are in it, because in our work as well as in our worship, you can see eternity from here….
So let us prepare ourselves for this meal given by God, let us prepare ourselves to truly give ourselves to God, as God has given God’s very Self for us. Let us give thanks, for Jesus has not only given his life for us, but God is giving us our own real lives as well. Let us ask God to reshape us, to reform us in this meal, let us bring our brokenness to the table, and be healed and be fed, let us come in joy, for indeed we can see eternity from here. Amen.
Rev. Susan Gilbert Zencka
Texts: Habbakuk 1:1-4, 2:1-4; 2 Timothy 1:1-14; Luke 17:5-10
N Nung Yay Dah
N Nung Yay Dah oh-oh
N Nung Yay Dah M Ma Bia
N Nung Yay Dah.
This past week, Deb Knippel and I were in Louisville, Kentucky, for a Mission Celebration, with 600 U.S. Presbyterians, about 50 PCUSA missionaries, and many of our mission partners from around the world, including Rev. Vilma Yanez, moderator of the Presbyterian Church in Colombia, who preached here a year ago. We were challenged to rethink our approach to mission and to participate in global and local mission, and we learned about some of the very important work our denomination is doing, with love and respect, in partnerships with people throughout the world.
In the closing worship service, we learned the Ghanaian refrain I just sang – the words are in Dagbani, the dialect of the Dagomba tribe of northern Ghana in West Africa, and their meaning is very simple: n nung yah dah means “I have faith” or “I believe”, and m ma bia means “my mother’s child”, in other words, “my brother or sister”. M ma bia is often used as part of a greeting, such as “M ma bia, how are you?” or “M ma bia, how was your journey?” And so I greet you all this morning: M ma bia, the Lord be with you. And also with you.
I’ve never gone up to the top of the Sears Tower – I moved to the Chicago area in 1977, yet somehow never got around to it. They say you can see 4 states from the top of the Sears Tower on a clear day. And I know you can see the Sears Tower from pretty far away also, if you know what to look for. A few years, I was driving in Indiana with a friend, and she pointed out in Valparaiso a place where we could see the Sears Tower though we were over 50 miles away. Amazing – though it doesn’t look like much from that perspective.
Today we celebrate the Lord’s Supper, Communion, Eucharist – as we do each month. This is one of only two sacraments that most Protestants acknowledge – the other is baptism. A sacrament is a sacred moment; a ritual in which the church has agreed God’s grace comes to us. Although we know that we experience God in many other ways, the church believes that in Communion and Baptism, somehow we have a shared experience of God and God’s love. We don’t claim to understand it, or to be able to analyze it, but we believe that it happens. The Creator of the Universe really enters into our meal and shares in our sharing. So it would be appropriate to say as we celebrate Communion, “You can see eternity from here!” For in this holy meal which we will share together soon, is an intersection between our concrete, present, finite moment and the full presence of the living God. You can see eternity from here….
Although on its face, from the outside, like the view of the Sears Tower from Valparaiso, our communion doesn’t look like much. A pinch of bread, dipped in a little grape juice – scarcely a snack, let alone a meal. How is it that this little morsel has become the central act of the gathered church??
And in a world, when we know so much is going wrong, and there is so much to do – there are wars, global climate change, AIDS, hunger…and in our personal lives – illness, anger, debt, grief, joblessness, anxiety, strained relationships…how can this meal mean very much?
Not only are the problems experienced by humans – in a very real sense, the whole earth is at risk. And the concept of ecojustice includes not only the wholeness of the earth, but justice for all who live in it. When thousands of species are threatened with extinction, and eco-racism places toxic industries and waste in poor neighborhoods and developing nations where the desperation for jobs weakens the ability of people to hold corporations accountable, we know that all creation must be groaning, and that God who once said Creation was very good, must be in great pain. The pain of the earth also reaches eternity from here….
And this meal has always come at the intersection of suffering and hope, of earth and cosmos, for it was first offered on the night that Jesus was arrested –the impact was to take his life and shatter the small community of Jesus and the Twelve which had been in ministry together. Of course, in the shattering of that small community, the larger community of the Church in the Spirit was born, much as a butterfly emerges from the shattered cocoon of the caterpillar. But in the moment of the Last Supper, the disciples didn’t know the future into which they were being led, they only knew that the present moment, into which they had invested the past three years, the present moment is coming apart. And so there is a very real sense of the cosmos coming together out of the broken edges of this earthly experience for Jesus – so that for him also, there is the intersection of the infinite and the finite in the Last Supper. You can see eternity from here….
Not only is eternity present in our Communion meal, but we are celebrating the finite moments of the past, present and future as well. We celebrate the past because we remember the meal that Jesus shared with his disciples. And we remember the gift, freely given, of his life that would end the next day. And Jesus shared the Last Supper with his disciples in the context of the Passover meal in which they remembered the way God had saved the Hebrew people from slavery in Egypt. And as we remember the pain and hope of the people in slavery in Egypt, we are also aware of the pain and hope of people now, and so we might say along with the words of the prophet which Kay read this morning: “How long, O Lord? How long shall I cry for help and you will not listen? …destruction and violence are before me; strife and contention arise.” And as we remember the pain, and remember the past, we also remember the faithfulness of God to God’s people over time, and we remember the many times we have celebrated this feast of the church…in our childhood, at our confirmation, perhaps at a wedding or funeral, in times of grief and joy, year after year Christ has nourished us at this table… You can see eternity from here….
We celebrate the present moment as well. We gather in this place where most of us gather each week. And we gather to hear the very Word of the Living God proclaimed. And we gather to worship this God in whom we live and move and have our being. And we gather with our families. And we gather with our faith family and welcome new members today. And we gather with strangers who become family as we share this universal meal of Christ together. And we gather knowing that although God cares for all people, and speaks through all faiths, we share a special bond with those who come to know God through the revelation of Jesus. And we gather with those in the present moment beyond the reach of our limited vision, knowing that throughout the world today m ma bia, our brothers and sisters in Ghana, and Germany, and Italy and Tanzania, in China, and Spain, and Iraq and Iran and in other churches in Stevens Point and in the halls of power and the slums of all countries, where there is peace and where there is war, as we share the loaf and cup, there are others sharing the loaf and cup, so that in terms of both space and time…. You can see eternity from here….
And we celebrate the future also. We celebrate a vision of the future which is not built moment by moment upon the past, but is coming to us from the future vision of God. We cling to the words of God to Habbakuk, that “…there is still a vision.” And through the words of the prophets, we see that vision of a future in which many peoples shall come and say, "Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob; that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths…He shall judge between the nations, and shall arbitrate for many peoples; they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more. We celebrate a future in which justice shall roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream. We celebrate a future in which the wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them. We celebrate a future in which when he is revealed, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is. We celebrate a future in which we will see a new heaven and a new earth …and the river of the waters of life, bright as crystal are flowing from the throne of God…through the middle of the streets of the city. On either side of the river is the tree of life…and the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations. And you can see eternity from here….
And in our pain for the pain of the earth, our faith is often smaller than a mustard seed, and yet we know that miracles do happen, and healing does occur, and God is at work in this world, and that we are called to be part of that work, and so we need to do what we ought to do – we need to care for one another, and care for the earth, we need to bear God’s love into this world that needs it so very much. And we know, if we allow ourselves to touch our own need that we need God so very very much and so we celebrate that love as we gather here today. And as we celebrate, God feeds us. And as we celebrate the Spirit shapes us. And as we celebrate, we remember that Jesus took bread, and blessed it and broke it and gave it to his disciples – the bread is taken, blessed, broken and given, and so are we – and we realize that he takes us, as his people, his own children. And as we celebrate he blesses us, with every good gift, and with every thing we need both for God’s work and for our own lives. And as we celebrate, we come to him in our brokenness so that we may be made new, and strengthened for service. And as we celebrate we acknowledge that we, too, are given for his sake and for his glory to a world that knows him not. We ourselves are not only to bring but to be bread for a world hungry for love. We take his bread, and in eating it become his body….we take the cup and remember his asking whether we could drink the cup he has to drink, and we realize that we, too, may be poured out for his world….and we can see eternity from here.
And as we celebrate, we notice that he has taken the very stuff of this still good earth – grains and fruit from an ordinary table, and made of them an extraordinary feast in which heaven and earth, past present and future come together; and we realize that he has taken us as well, such ordinary folks, and made of us an extraordinary community in which we are bound by his love, and celebrate all that he has given us, and reach out to share his gifts with others, never worrying if we will run out, because you can see eternity from here…..
And in this world of pain and joy, of anger and hope, of hunger and love, we remember the words of the Apostle Paul to the young Timothy, words that Alessandro and Stefano read, and that we need to hear: For all these reasons, I remind you to rekindle the gift of God that is within you…for God did not give us a spirit of cowardice but rather a spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline. And we are called to work in that Spirit to speak truth to power, to defend the least of these who are victims in God’s world, and to work for justice for God’s earth and all who are in it, because in our work as well as in our worship, you can see eternity from here….
So let us prepare ourselves for this meal given by God, let us prepare ourselves to truly give ourselves to God, as God has given God’s very Self for us. Let us give thanks, for Jesus has not only given his life for us, but God is giving us our own real lives as well. Let us ask God to reshape us, to reform us in this meal, let us bring our brokenness to the table, and be healed and be fed, let us come in joy, for indeed we can see eternity from here. Amen.