"And when he was at table..."

Well, almost everybody who knows me has heard that I am in the very early days of my retirement.  After 51(!) years in the pulpit, I now attend worship from the other side of the chancel rail.  I’ll have to admit that it is different.

I also know that there is more than one way to do things in worship, and one is not necessarily more “right” or “correct” than the other.  I am a decorated veteran of the worship wars so I am aware that one has to make a differentiation between preference and true tradition.

Having said that, I have a couple of observations regarding the church in which I worshipped this past Sunday.  I won’t name names, because I don’t want to get into that sort of controversy.  Rather, let me describe what I saw when I went into this particular sanctuary.  It has a divided chancel – which I much prefer.  On the platform, between the pulpit on congregation left and the lectern on the right stood a Communion Table.  It is an impressive piece of furniture, a large substantial pedestal-type table. It has plenty of room and I can imagine presiding at such a table.  On the table stood a brass cross¸ even as the entire table stands underneath a massive wooden cross that hangs from the ceiling.  There is also a processional cross standing on the platform, though no one carried it in or out for this service.  But, as I say, the large cross sat on the table.  To the worshippers' left on the table was a large open Bible, propped at an upright angle that almost defied gravity.  On the right side of the table was an enormous flower arrangement (at least they were true cut flowers and not plastic).  As the service progressed the time came to receive the morning offering.  After the singing of the Doxology, the pastor took the offering plates and placed them on the table behind the Bible.

I suppose that, at this point, I should distinguish between my understanding of the table and a “worship center.”  Worship center is not an historical part of our worship.  Visuals are vital to our worship experience.  But that includes paraments, banners, flowers and other appointments that we may use in our sanctuaries or worship areas.  Please notice that I describe these elements as “appointments.”  Each of these items make their contribution – individually and as part of a collective – to the worship of God.  They are not “decorations.”  We do not seek to make our worship space “pretty.”  The presence – and absence – of these visuals make a statement about the particular day’s gathering.  And, there are many appropriate platforms for the presentation of these pieces.

That does not, DOES NOT, include scattering the Communion table with all manner of flotsam.  I attended a particular church service during Advent several years ago.  This Communion table housed an Advent Wreath, a creche, flowers, offering plates, Upper Room devotional booklets and a bit more.  I was in this church on a Sunday when this congregation celebrated Communion.  While the Communion table sat on the platform with this hodge-podge of clutter, the church had set up a plastic folding table on the floor of the chancel area.  There they situated the bread and cup.  This church relegated the body and blood of Christ to a subordinate, almost invisible, place in its sanctuary.  (It still gives me shivers.)

So, traditionally what DOES belong on the table proper?  The Communion elements find their place there, of course.  What else?  Nothing.  Nothing else. (I make exception here for seasonal paraments or the traditional fair linen as they almost serve as being a part of the table itself  If a meal table has a tablecloth, that is most appropriate.)  You can make an argument for candles, though freestanding candles at each end of the table would be better.  Parenthetically, we might ask, “Why candles in the first place?”  The madey-uppy answer that those who don’t really know is, “They remind us of the time in our history when the church met in catacombs in order to avoid persecution.”  That is interesting, of course.  But when so many of our churches ignore two thousand years of tradition, why hold on to a vague recollection of a time of persecution?  Do we find ourselves in solidarity with those – historical and contemporary – who endured persecution?  That is not a bad question on which to meditate.

But that is not why candles find their place on our tables.  It does harken to a piece of church history, although much more mundane than systematic persecution.  Why does one place a lit candle anywhere?  To provide light.  In a time before overhead fluorescent electric light fixtures, the officiant or celebrant at the Communion table required light in order to lead in the liturgy.  Why make something difficult out of something easy?

I'll have a little more to say about this soon.

The peace of the Lord be with you.