The Last Word

by Terry Newland

How many of you remember the day you were received into membership for the first time in a Christian church? I was received as a "Communicant Member" at Strathmoor Presbyterian Church in Louisville, KY. I was eleven years old and it was time. I grew up a Presbyterian and that's what Presbyterians did when they were eleven or twelve. I entered the Communicants' Class with all the other kids my age and when the class was finished we were presented for membership. I don't remember much about the class except that it met weekly for six weeks. I do remember two things about the Sunday my class was received into membership. The most exciting thing was that after being officially received during the morning worship service we would be able to take Communion for the first time in our lives. We even got to keep the little juice cup as a reminder of our first visit to the Lord's Table. Those trays of bread and juice had been passed down my pew for as long as I could remember. Finally, I could take my share when the plate came my way.

The trade off was that I first had to stand up in front of everyone and make a public profession of my faith. Actually, even though they called it my profession of faith, it was me professing the faith of the church and claiming it as mine. They even told me exactly what to say. That's the second thing I remember about that day. They told me that I was a sinner and that I had to tell everyone that I was without hope, except in the Grace of our Lord Jesus Christ. They told me that I wasn't perfect and that I would make mistakes no matter how hard I tried. I had known for years that Jesus loved me and that he also loved sinners. Now they were making me accept the fact that we were one in the same. Even so, Jesus loved me and so did they.

Except, in the years that have followed, people in our church have seemed really out done with me when I've made mistakes. They knew I was flawed and made me know it before they let me in the church. Now they act so surprised when my imperfection shows and so mad when I don't get something right. It doesn't seem fair to me. It's not like I set out to mess up. I really try to get things right, most of the time. I might have even been on a roll and doing a lot of things pretty well. Then all of a sudden I make a mistake and it's like they can't believe it. In a way, I don't blame them. I get upset with myself when I mess up. Yet, I do yearn sometimes for that unconditional love and forgiveness I learned about in decades of Sunday School and worship.

It gets worse. I've discovered that I do the same thing. Even though I want you to accept my shortcomings, I really have a hard time accepting yours. Why do I do that? I know how it feels to work hard and come up short, even when it's just a little bit short. No one seems to appreciate the effort or the parts that came out good. The only thing that seems to matter is the part that didn't. I know that I should look for the gifts of God in you and yet there are times when I only want to identify your flaws.

I don't want to do that anymore. I know I will because I'm human, but I'm tired of looking for what's wrong with other people. I'm especially tired of looking for what's wrong with people and agencies and governing bodies within our church. I hope to start acting and living like you taught me in Communicants' Class.

The Peace of Christ be with you.

Photo by Jane Hines