Sometimes it doesn't take much to stir a memory long forgotten. Tonight it was the communion service at Holy Hour for the Chautauqua Koinonia weekend. Holy Hour is the time when the community of Koinonians gather to worship and pray for those participating in the weekend. It is a time for celebration and for connecting with Christian brothers and sisters we haven't seen for awhile. And of course, when we celebrate the Eucharist, it is a connecting with Christ himself. But strange things can happen at the holiest of times. Such was the memory revived tonight.
In 1984, the Rev. Forrest Stith was elected bishop and appointed as overseer of the Western New York Conference of the United Methodist Church. Shortly thereafter, my friend Mary Martin had talked me into assisting her as the ordination coordinator for that year's class of ordinands. Mary and I are about as different as night and day. The obvious of course, is that she is female and the last time I checked, I am not. Mary is more on the liberal side of the theological and political spectrum than I. Mary is exuberant and boisterous...you get the picture. With all our differences, we hit it off well, and she remains a close friend even though we don't get to see each other too often. Unfortunately for me, the following year, Mary accepted the responsibilities of a different Conference committee, leaving me after only one year as her assistant, in charge of the entire ball of wax. She won't admit to it, but I suspect she knew all along. Upon telling me, she laughed and said, "I just knew you were the right one for the job."
One of the responsibilities of the job was to oversee the ordination retreat held in the early spring each year. We met at Casowasco, a beautiful Methodist campground on Owasco, one of New York State's Finger Lakes. During that retreat, the bishop always presided over the communion service. Bishop Stith was to do so with a twist all his own.
Forrest Stith in addition to being a bishop, was an avid basketball fan. A pretty big man himself, my recollection is that he played a pretty fair game in his college years. When I say he was an avid fan, read "rabid" in there. He was passionate about the game. I have to admit however that I never expected him to incorporate basketball into the actual Eucharistic liturgy. Given his fanaticism about the sport, I can't say as I was surprised, but it did seem a bit out of place for him to modify the words to say that "Jesus healed the sick and eight foot centers." I'm not sure why eight foot centers needed healing, but I am sure that's how I heard it. Of course, what he really said was "Jesus healed the sick and ate with sinners." At least that's his story, and I guess he's sticking to it. And this is mine. You can believe whoever you want, but I know what I heard.
I am grateful tonight for communion. We don't often use the full liturgy, but it has a beauty all its own, with familiar words repeated weekly by millions of Christians as they recall the mystery of our faith "Christ has died; Christ is risen; Christ will come again." We pray the prayers of repentance, hear words of absolution, affirm our faith in God's love and forgiveness on account of the sacrificial death of Christ. We hold in our hands the Bread of Life, and go forth to serve. Even if we are eight foot centers. NBA, here we come!
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