By the Blood of Jesus (Urbana 2000)
Communion Homilyby Marta Bennett
About Marta Bennett (as of 2000)
Other Urbana 2000 talks
Because he first loved us ... we worship him!
As we come to communion, we come to celebrate the ultimate evidence of God's extravagant love for us. We come to the table of our Lord. It is the Lord's table. He is the host. He is the one who extends the invitation to any and all who will come, believing in him.
Eating food together, in most, if not all African cultures, is a symbol of reconciliation. One can only eat together with those with whom one has peace and is at peace. It is our Lord Jesus who invites us to join together at this table as a people reconciled to God, and reconciled one to another.
Our Lord Jesus is the host, and in the mystery of the feast, he is also the food and the drink being served to us: the bread and the cup. At the last supper, Jesus anticipated his death on our behalf, saying "This cup is the new covenant in my blood, shed for you." And living on this side of the cross, we can look back and understand even more fully what he was talking about.
The blood of Jesus unites us. We have been hearing God's story all throughout this week together which he tells through the stories of his people. And our personal stories cannot be solo stories. Our lives are interwoven with the stories of many others. The common thread of Jesus, through his blood binds us together.
I could tell you so many stories of the people whom I live with these days, whose stories have become part of my story. Out of all these stories, I would like to tell you one in particular.
I met a young man called Jean Paul in 1995. He was my next door neighbor in Nairobi for over 4 years. I still remember the morning he ran up to me on the road and introduced himself, saying that he was Jean Paul from Rwanda, and he was to be my student at Daystar University. Jean Paul had been a university student in Kigali, Rwanda, studying business administration. In 1994, he was just months away from graduation when the Rwandan genocide broke out. Fleeing for his life, he went into the refugee camps across the border into Congo, he lost everything: his home, all university records, and it seemed, even his future. A year later he arrived in Nairobi. When I met him, he had just enrolled at Daystar University, having found a sponsor, and so he was beginning his entire university years over again, but this time in English.
Through Jean Paul and his extended family and friends, I have learned many truths about the power of the blood of Jesus. From Jean Paul, I have learned that:
By the blood of Jesus, even enemies can be reconciled ...
A year or two into his studies at Daystar, Jean Paul was selected by the student government to be the student leader of the Rwandese on campus. He came to me in dismay. "What am I to do," he asked? How would it be possible to unite the 50 or so Rwandese students, given that some were Hutus and some were Tutsis. Some were from wealthy elite families, and some were poor farmers. Some had been in Rwanda at the time of the genocide, while others were already in Nairobi or elsewhere for their studies by that time. On campus they treated each other with suspicion, even hatred.
Together we discussed various strategies, identifying things that the Rwandese did have in common with each other. The bottom line was they were all from Rwanda and had been deeply affected by the 1994 tragedy. They had all lost loved ones. They were all students, and beyond that, they all had signed a statement of faith, stating that they were born again Christians and sought to live accordingly. With that, Jean Paul said, "I know what I will do. We must begin by studying the passages of scripture that talk about the blood of Jesus. The blood of Jesus is thicker than the blood of tribes. It is our only hope." By the blood of Jesus, even bitter enemies can come together in God's love.
By the blood of Jesus, forgiveness is possible.
A year or two later, one Sunday night Jean Paul came knocking at my door as usual. On this particular night, he laid aside the usual greetings, and instead began by saying, "Tell me about the crucifixion of Jesus. What was it like? What really happened?" He gave no other explanation, only restating that he wanted to know all the details. So, we launched into a description of the emotional trauma of Jesus' betrayal by one whom he had trusted. We discussed the humiliation of being publicly taunted, ridiculed and humiliated. Finally, to the best of my knowledge, I described what I knew of the Roman crucifixion, from the brutal whippings, through to the slow and torturous agony of being hung on a crossbeam and left to die.
At the end, Jean Paul sat back in silence. So I pressed him again to know why this was so important to him. His reply was that, if after all that, Jesus could still say, "Father, forgive them," then we, too, can and must forgive. His father, a Baptist pastor, had recently managed to return to Kigali, and had gone back to their house. All that was left was the shell, and even so, when he approached it, soldiers came out from inside, threatening him that if he ever even came near it again, they would kill him. In light of this, on top of everything else, Jean Paul emphasized, "I must write to my father, and tell him that we must forgive. We must let go, and forgive, for that is what Jesus did." By the blood of Jesus, we are forgiven, and we can forgive.
By the blood of Jesus, we can give our lives, even as Jesus gave his.
About two years ago, Jean Paul finally graduated from the university. Also about two years ago, another one of our Rwandese students returned home to Kigali to renew his passport. Though we believe he was completely innocent, he was arrested at the border. No questions were asked, no trial was held, and he was thrown into prison. One year later, he died in prison, leaving his wife and children still at Daystar University in Nairobi.
In spite of that, shortly thereafter, Jean Paul determined it was time for him to return home. He had covenanted with God to return to his country - and it was time. So he went into the unknown, trusting God with his very life. That was a year ago.
About a week ago, Jean Paul married a certain young Rwandese lady he had met since he returned home. He had been persistently - I tell you, persistently - praying for a wife, ever since I had known him.
A few months ago, he emailed me in Nairobi to tell me the exact date, and he said he was absolutely crazy about her. She loves the Lord, and together they can be part of rebuilding Rwanda, and more importantly rebuilding the kingdom of God there.
As we give our lives, trusting God,
by the blood of Jesus, we can join together as one people.
Through the blood of Jesus, those with whom we share no ties of blood can become our closest kin. The two most important people in my life right now are a little Kenyan boy named Justin, and a little Kenyan girl named Imani. They are my 3 year old son and my One-and-a-half year old daughter, my legally adopted children. Justin came home to be my son at the age of 6 weeks. Imani (which means "Faith" in Swahili) came home to me at 3-1/2 months. They have been with me ever since.
Though they had each been literally abandoned by their birth parents, God did not forget them; he is their heavenly Father. In fact, Justin's middle name "Wangai" is a Kikuyu name meaning "belonging to God." Imani's first name is Sarah, meaning princess - she is the daughter of the King. Though neither of them may ever know who their earthly fathers are, I get to be their mother, and they have a loving Father in heaven who refused to abandon them. And he refuses to abandon us as well.
We are invited to the Lord's table. As God told the nations through Hosea and Peter, "You who were not my people, are now my people" (Hosea 2:23; 1 Peter 2:10); as Justin and Imani have joined me to become a family together, we too here can embrace one another, declaring "you were not of my people, but now we are God's people together."
As we prepare to come to the Lord's table, to the communion table, let us prepare our hearts. In the Maasai culture, a child greets someone of greater age or importance by bowing his or her head as a sign of respect. The older, more esteemed person will then greet the child by placing his or her hand on the child's head, as a type of blessing in response.
As we prepare for communion, may we each humbly bow our heads before God our Father, expectantly awaiting his hand of blessing upon our heads, that as he blesses us, he may work in us and through us to be a blessing to reach the nations.
Perhaps it will be through this generation that all nations will be able to come to the table of the Lamb.
Also see: Marta Bennett's response to the 2001 terror attacks in the US, written from Kenya
Unless otherwise noted, all materials on the urbana.org web site are Copyright InterVarsity Christian Fellowship / USA. All rights reserved.
Print
Email
Comments
Be the first one to add a comment.
To post a comment, please login or register