July 2, 2023 St. Andrew Church Rev. Anne McAnelly
First Lesson: Jerimiah 28:5-9 5
Then the prophet Jeremiah spoke to the prophet Hananiah in the presence of the priests and all the people who were standing in the house of the LORD; 6 and the prophet Jeremiah said, “Amen! May the LORD do so; may the LORD fulfill the words that you have prophesied, and bring back to this place from Babylon the vessels of the house of the LORD, and all the exiles. 7 But listen now to this word that I speak in your hearing and in the hearing of all the people. 8 The prophets who preceded you and me from ancient times prophesied war, famine, and pestilence against many countries and great kingdoms. 9 As for the prophet who prophesies peace, when the word of that prophet comes true, then it will be known that the LORD has truly sent the prophet.”
Second Lesson: Matthew 10:40-42
40 “Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. 41 Whoever welcomes a prophet in the name of a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward; and whoever welcomes a righteous person in the name of a righteous person will receive the reward of the righteous; 42 and whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple—truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward.”
“I have never felt so welcomed and comfortable anywhere else.” A friend told me this just the other day about time spent at another friend’s house. He continued, “She just put me at ease and welcomed me into her home.” I also have that feeling when I am at this friend’s house. She has the ability to open her home and make space for you. It is not about her surroundings or the location of her home, but rather that sense of hospitality she creates when you walk in the door. She also is able to host people as easily as breathing. It comes naturally to her. She often invites others over for gatherings, birthday events or welcome home celebrations. Yet I would not say that she entertains. I heard an interesting distinction between hospitality and entertaining. Entertaining says, “I want to impress you with my home, my clever decorating, my cooking.” Hospitality, seeking to minister, says, “This home is a gift from my Master. I use it as he desires.” Hospitality aims to serve. Entertaining puts things before people. “As soon as I get the house finished, the living room decorated, my house cleaning done — then I will start inviting people.” Hospitality puts people first. “No furniture — we’ll eat on the floor! The decorating may never get done –
– you come anyway. The house is a mess — but you are friends — come home with us.”
Entertaining subtly declares, “This home is mine, an expression of my personality. Look, please, and admire.” Hospitality whispers, “What is mine is yours.” (Karen Mains Open Heart, Open Home, Sermons.com)
Jesus loved to host, to show hospitality, even when he did not have a home. He was able to come into a place and host people with ease, welcome them, and see them. He did this with Zacchaeus, Matthew, even during the last supper; Jesus gathered people together welcoming them. In our gospel lesson, Jesus declares, “Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.” Let’s think about that. We are welcoming God when we welcome Jesus into our heart. Welcoming God when we open a space for Jesus to dwell with us. Yet it starts with a much wider invite. Whoever welcomes you. . . The neighbor down the street, the native of another country, the stranger we just met. That means we receive God’s welcome, Jesus’ hospitality when someone welcomes us.
I experienced this welcome in the Middle East. You would be offered tea in a shop, and people with very little always found a way to extend hospitality. We were told ahead of time that if offered a cup of tea or a snack we should accept it because it truly might be a great extravagance for them to provide, or a great insult if we decline. This reflects the cultural norm of hospitality that is still very present there. Jesus mentioning a cup of cold water shows how sharing what you have and what someone needs is great service of welcome. So there is a practical aspect of showing hospitality, because water could mean life or death, and there is a spiritual part as well. Later in Matthew the risen Lord will say, I was thirsty and you gave me a drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me. Sadly, we respond as the disciples did, “But Lord when did we see you thirsty or a stranger and welcomed you?” Remember what he said? “Truly I tell you, just as you welcome one of the least of these, members of my family, you did it to me” (Mathew 25:31-46).
Caring for one another, loving neighbor as yourself, this all starts with welcome! Showing hospitality is a vital step in Christian discipleship. It is the Christian way. “The famous anthropologist Margaret Mead was once asked this question: What was the earliest sign of civilization in any given culture? He expected the answer to be a clay pot or perhaps a fishhook or grinding stone. Her answer was “a healed femur.” The femur, of course, is the leg bone above the knee. Mead explained that no healed femurs are found where the law of the jungle, survival of the fittest, reigns. A healed femur shows that someone cared. Someone had to do that injured person’s hunting and gathering until the leg healed. The evidence of compassion, she said, is the first sign of civilization. I would contend that it is also the first sign of the work of Christ in the life of a Christian” (Sermons.com, Brett 13lair).
As the spiritual teacher Henri Nouwen said so well, hospitality is “the creation of a free space where the stranger can enter and become a friend instead of an enemy.” To be hospitable is to create that space, to make room for strangers. It is an intentional act of welcome, not merely a concept we think about but an act that we do. (Sermons.com William G. Carter)
How are we at hospitality as a church, a community of faith? We like to think of ourselves as friendly, and yet maybe we have room to grow in our welcome. A good friend noted many years ago, “Churches can learn a lot about hospitality if they pay attention to good restaurants.” A thriving restaurant is always expecting new people. Strangers are warmly greeted, even directed toward a good seat. Fresh drink and warm bread are offered before the newcomers even ask. Questions are answered, no matter how apparently small or trivial. There was nothing that intentionally excluded, no insider jargon, no assigned seats, nor inappropriate demand. It’s as if they are expecting you to come, and glad when you do. If the food is tasty and nutritious, there is a good chance the visitors will return (Sermons.com William G. Carter). We are not a restaurant, we are the body of Christ, called to welcome as if Christ himself has just walked in the door. As Saint Benedict wrote in his rule of faith, “All guests who present themselves are to be welcomed as Christ” (Sermons.com William G. Carter).
The story is told about a monastery that had fallen on very hard times. Buildings were in disrepair and only a handful of monks remained. On the edge of the monastery woods, an old rabbi had built a hut. He caine there from time to time to fast and pray. No one ever spoke with him, but whenever he appeared, the word would spread: “The rabbi walks in the woods.”
One day the abbot decided to visit the rabbi and bear his heart to him. As he approached the hut, the abbot saw the rabbi standing in the doorway, his arms outstretched in welcome. It was as though he had been waiting there for some time. The two embraced.
As he entered the hut, he saw a wooden table with the Scriptures open. They sat there for a moment, in the presence of the Book. Then the rabbi began to cry. The abbot could not contain himself. He covered his face with his hands and broke down.
After the tears and all was quiet again, the rabbi lifted his head. “You and your brothers are serving God with heavy hearts,” he said. “You have come to ask a teaching of me. I will give you a teaching, but you can only repeat it once. After that, no one must ever say it aloud again.”
The rabbi looked straight at the abbot and said, “The Messiah is among you.” The Abbot stood in stunned silence. Then the rabbi said, “Now you must go.”
The next morning, the abbot called his monks together. He told them the teaching from the rabbi which was never again to be spoken aloud. Then he looked at each of his brothers and said,
“The rabbi said that one of us is the Messiah.”
The monks were startled wondering: “What could it mean? Is brother John the Messiah? No, he’s too old and crotchety. Is brother Thomas? No, he’s too stubborn and set in his ways. Am I the Messiah?” They were all deeply puzzled by the rabbi’s teaching. But no one mentioned it again.
As time went by, though, something began to happen at the monastery. The monks began to treat one another with a reverence. They were gentle with one another. They lived with one another as brothers once again. Visitors found themselves deeply moved by the genuine caring and sharing that went on among them. Before long, people were again coming from great distances to be nourished by the prayer life of these monks. And young men were asking, once again, to become part of the community.
Jesus said, He who receives you receives me. The essence of hospitality … because in one another we see face of Christ (Sermons.com, Brett Blair). Amen.
