Thankfully, mercifully, at long last – after much painful labor, after heartbreaking loss and hardship, all signs finally point toward a happy ending. Or at least a next chapter that’s not quite so bad.
To eke out a meager existence, they battled unfair circumstance and, on the frontlines of combat, forged a camaraderie of deep, unwavering care – such as they were, this rag-tag cluster of the pale and downtrodden. One was blind, another Black; one a widow-woman, her children fatherless. And the end of their long, hard slog felt close at hand:
Edna Spalding and her kids headed out the front door, bound for the high-stepping merriment of the community harvest dance. But in for the night were Mr. Will, who lost his sight serving in World War I, and Moze, the itinerant Black farmer worker. The two men sat chatting on the back porch while Mr. Will exercised his livelihood of caning chairs. In the moment, charity and favor are holding bad luck and relentless evil at bay. Or so it seems.
Suddenly Mr. Will’s sharp, highly sensitive ears hear ominous stirring in the distant barn. Moze goes to investigate and is thereupon accosted by members of the Ku Klux Klan. His Black body and being apparently have offended white manhood. After all, this Black man has helped a husbandless, white woman bring in the community’s first crop of cotton and thereby earn a big cash prize. So, the Klan has come to beat Moze to death – that is, until Mr. Will steps into the fray brandishing a pistol. He’s a veteran of war, of course, and not afraid to pull the trigger.
Mr. Will’s bluff works, and the Klan quickly hoofs it out of there – scared off not only by the glint of Mr. Will’s pistol but also by Mr. Will’s uncanny ability to identify each of them simply by sounds of their voices. The victory is hollow, though, because as the Klan skedaddles, they vow to return with similar vengeance. Mr. Will then kneels on the floor, prostrating himself on barn dust and scattered bits of feedstock, to tend to his battered friend. And Moze realizes that, as much as his body now hurts, his physical trauma hardly compares with the emotional pain of having to leave Mrs. Spalding’s farm to save his skin.
And so it goes, the way of evil: Smashing the intimacy and delight that God sees as the “right and good” way of being, the sort of close relationship that God intends for creating order from chaos. No thanks to evil, Moze must leave his dearly beloved friends and his most stable home in recent memory. Alas, that’s not Hollywood’s usual happy ending. As the 1984 movie “Places in the Heart” nears its end, circumstances do not change for better.
Or do they?
On the heels of Moze’s quick exit, the scene shifts to a sparsely attended church service, one attended by the Spalding family and Mr. Will.
The pastor reads the day’s Scripture lesson from 1 Corinthians 13, and that’s when things start getting blessedly surreal. As the choir sings the classic favorite “In the Garden,” elements of the Lord’s Table are passed among each row of pews, while the minister reads the words of instruction.
Then the movie camera starts panning row upon row of now-suddenly full pews, following a tray of communion cups passed hand to hand, one to the other. As the communion tray moves among the faithful, how surprising that the cup is offered to the town prostitute, and to a woman killed in a tornado earlier in the film, and to other of the Lord’s unexpected and seemingly unlikely dinner guests.
When the elements arrive at the last row, where the Spalding family now sits, the first shocker is finding in that row – of all people – Moze! The one who fled town in fear of his life! And even greater, a man who never-ever would have been welcome in a white church of rural Texas in the 1930s. Moze! Ironically now seated at arm’s length with Klan members. Moze serves Mr. Will, who then passes the tray to the Spalding children, who also partake in the joyful feast of God’s people. Young Frank murmurs to himself, “Peace of God,” before downing his cup of juice.
Edna Spauling is next served, and she parrots her son Frank: “Peace of God.” Edna then offers the cup to her supposedly dead husband, who looks very much alive! And lo, with the same phrase, “Peace of God,” Mr. Spalding passes it to a young boy named Wiley, the kid who once murdered the town and was subsequently lynched. Looking very-much alive, Wiley turns to the slain sheriff with good wishes: “The peace of God.”
That, my friends, is a foretaste of the Kingdom of God.
That, sisters and brothers, is the foretaste that the Lord offers you and me at his Table: heaven on earth! Not pearly gates and swooning with Jesus, but rather loving relationship all around – grace and peace – amid life’s heat, dust, blood, sweat, and tears. In terms as real and exacting as any we might ever experience, we glance a reassuring picture of the Community of God, dwelling in the Kingdom of God, abiding in the Body of Christ.
The peace of God! Gratitude and love for all God’s creatures: Black, white, blind; homeless, fatherless, husband-less; all the supposed “leasts” and “lessers” of town and country, society and culture.
The peace of God, the Kingdom of God! Hope and reassurance no matter how stormy and terrifying be the waters upon which humankind fusses, fumes, and fights.
The peace of God, the Kingdom of God, hope and reassurance! The oneness of all, reconciled and resurrected by the lavish care of God! About this there is no theological ambiguity: Plain and simple, such bliss really is the holy climax of our long, heartbreaking, and sordid story.
Behold, the peace of God! Reconciliation with Christ compels reconciliation with one another. Coming to the Table affirms forgiveness and reconciliation with the Lord. And in thus leaving the Lord’s Table – fed with that peace of God, our eager commitment must lie in working toward forgiveness and reconciliation in every instance of conflict or division – between you and friend or foe; between neighbor and stranger; between every “least” and “last.”
The Word of the Lord. Thanks be to God.
Pastor Grant M. VanderVelden shared this message on World Communion Sunday, October 5, 2025, at First Presbyterian Church in Waukon, Iowa, USA. Scholarship, commentary, and reflection by Roy Anker and Scott Hoezee inform the message. Places in the Heart (1984, rated PG) is written and directed by Robert Benton, who won an Academy Award for Best Original Screenplay. It stars Sally Field, who won an Academy Award for Best Actress, John Malkovich, and Danny Glover.