Seventh Sunday after Pentecost
June 29, 2008
Genesis 22:1-14
Psalm 13
Romans 6:12-23
Matthew 10:40-42
So. “here I am.” These are three of the most important words in scripture. We heard them today in our passage from Genesis. “Here I am” is a common response to God when he calls people into relationship with him and into service for his kingdom. Moses and Isaiah are two of the more famous of those people. When God calls Moses to lead his chosen people out of their bondage in Egypt into the land of promise, Moses answers, “Here I am. When God calls Isaiah to become a prophet to his people who are being led astray from God, Isaiah replies, “Here I am, Lord. Send me.” And today we hear God call Abraham not once, not twice, but three times. And each time Abraham responds with these same words, “Here I am.”
“Here I am.” You and I gave this same response to God when we decided to answer his call to be his disciples. If your experience was anything like mine you most likely heard God call you within the context of a faith community where we were already being formed in faith by people of faith; people who taught us the stories of scripture, people who engaged us in worship and trained us for service to God in mission and ministry to the world. At some point we heard God call our name, perhaps through the voice of someone God was speaking through, and we were ready to respond, “Here I am, Lord.” From then on, we could expect that God would continue to call us into deeper relationship with him and into greater service to his church and to his world.
Both scripture and our life experience as a people of God make it clear, I think, that “here I am” is the response God hopes we will give when he calls us to faith and action. By whatever means he calls us. By his own voice or through the voice of another. By the gentle urging of our thoughts or feelings, or a compelling fire in our belly. Or by a call which has already taken its place in us. A call which has become second nature to us. A call we respond to naturally without God even having to speak to us. That’s when we know we are already living a life of faith and action. When our response to God becomes a default mode. A mode which says, “I am here,” even before God calls us to be present to him.
In our gospel lesson today it seems to me that Jesus would like us to be functioning in our default mode when it comes to hospitality. He makes it clear that hospitality is central to the gospel message and necessary for bringing the gospel to others. But the truth is churches are not very good at hospitality. Especially Episcopal Churches. In fact, the situation is so grim that at almost every church conference it seems that you can find some kind lecture or workshop on hospitality. This is because the church has learned that in our modern world hospitality doesn’t just happen; it must be taught. Hospitality does not seem to be in our DNA as a church and it is not the default mode of most of our members. And the church has come to realize that hospitality is too important to God’s purposes in spreading the gospel message; we cannot neglect hospitality or take it for granted, and we cannot do it poorly. So the church has come to the conclusion that churches need to learn hospitality so that we can serve God’s greater good in the way we welcome people and receive them into our community of faith. So, then. What makes hospitality so important to our church and so important to Jesus in our gospel lesson today.
Jesus tells us straight on why it is important for a people of faith to practice hospitality among themselves and to offer it to those outside our faith community. Because Jesus knows that hospitality is necessary if people are to receive the gospel message to their benefit. Jesus makes that very clear. “Whoever welcomes you, welcomes me,” says Jesus to his disciples. And we know from our own experience the value of welcoming and being welcomed into a community of faith. There is no one of us here today who will become part of any human community if we sense we are not welcome, or if we are not made to feel included in that community. We also know how good we feel when we are welcomed and well-received by people who take a genuine interest in us and in our well-being. And we learned at a very young age how to read the signs which tell us whether or not we are being how genuinely welcomed completely received.
So, how important is hospitality to a church. Well, our hospitality, or lack of it, tells people a lot about the gospel we preach and the gospel we live. I remember the day I arrived at St. George’s Church for my interview with the search committee. I was really taken by the beautiful sign which is displayed prominently on the front lawn. Until I read it. And then I was taken aback by the message it was sending to all who passed by. The sign said: St. George’s Episcopal Church. A Family Church. Now, I don’t have anything against families. I belong to one. I have even been married and had my own family. But throughout my life I have had many, many friends and acquaintances who were single, divorced, adopted, gay and lesbian, disenfranchised by their family and people who had been seriously damaged in dysfunctional and even dangerous family situations. So the word “family” has come to be a word which is narrowly welcoming to me; a word which sends a distorted message of hospitality.
I became ill at ease with the message St. George’s was sending to their community of Lee. I began to see it through the eyes of all those who would feel left out of this “family” church. Yet, when I came to know the people of St. George’s, I experienced them to be some of the most welcoming and hospitable people I have ever encountered in a church. But this was not the message they were sending on their sign. And after a handful of my own guests and other visitors pointed out their own uneasiness with the sign I knew the sign had to go. The message had to change. And to their credit, when I presented my concerns to members of the Vestry, they immediately understood the reasons. They made it clear that the people of St. George’s wanted to do all that they could to be a welcoming church to all who would enter our doors. So they made a new sign which simply said, “St. George’s Episcopal Church Welcomes You.” And our new sign says everything about the gospel we preach and the gospel we live. We have yet to discover how radical our hospitality is, but I believe we are ready to be tested. However, I also know that the church will not be able to assess the measure of our hospitality until we fully know what it means to be welcoming and hospitable. And for that it is helpful to know how the church in the ancient world understood hospitality.
The ancient world new well what it meant to be welcoming and hospitable. Hospitality was central to their social and religious code. Strangers traveling in a foreign country could expect to be received as guests. When they came to your door, or to a designated place in your village, they were greeted and taken into someone’s home where they were to be treated with special care and made to feel at home. First their needs were met—a bath, clean clothing, a meal and a rest, and then they were invited to share stories about themselves with their host. They were often sent on their way with needed supplies for their journey. And both host and guest felt special blessing in it. This same kind of hospitality is important to Jesus. We see it in the story of the Good Samaritan, and we remember that Jesus tells his disciples to leave the homes and villages of those who will not likewise welcome them. Jesus knows that people who welcome us are people who will also take an interest in who we are. And anyone who knows who we are will want to know who Jesus is. Because those who welcome us, welcome him. And there is great reward in that welcome.
It is clear that people in the ancient world believed hospitality to be the highest form of civil intercourse. The meanings given to the words “hospitality” and “welcome” show this to be true. The Greek word for welcome means simply, “come and be well.” Or “be well in coming to this place.” And a place of hospitality is a place which “receives you into it for your own best good.” Is it any wonder that the place which promises us the best good when we are seriously injured or ill is called a “hospital.” A later anglicized version of “welcome” also includes the notion of “wealth” which brings well-being or blessing. When we understand the notions of hospitality and welcome which come to us from the ancient world we begin to see what Jesus is getting at. We begin to understand why welcome and hospitality are essential to bringing people to the gospel, and for bringing the kingdom nearer to us in our world. Because the kingdom of God is the most hospitable place we can be invited into. God’s kingdom is the place where all people are truly welcome and accepted for who they are; his children. The kingdom of God is the place where we receive the best good for the sake of our well-being. The only place where true wealth comes to us in the abundance of blessing.
Well, by now I think we might safely say we know the message God is sending to each of us and to his church in today’s gospel. As a people of God we are to be a people of hospitality. What isn’t so obvious, however, is the message which comes from our Hebrew scripture in our lesson from Genesis. And it has everything to do with Jesus’ message of hospitality. Our lesson from Genesis reminds us we need to be ready, willing and able to answer God’s call to hospitality with a sure and certain “Here I am,” Lord. And our churches need to be making the same response: “Here we are, Lord.” Send your people to us. We are ready to welcome them and receive them for the gift that they are and the blessing they will be to us as we work together for your best good and for the good of your kingdom. “Here we are,” Lord. Send your people to us. We will receive them for who they are and they will know who you are by the way they come to know us. “Here we are,” Lord. Send your people to us. Because we know that every time we welcome them into our life and into this community of faith, we welcome you. And you are our greatest blessing and our best reward.
I cannot end this sermon without telling you about a man who I think exemplified the meaning of welcome and hospitality in his life. As many of you are aware, journalist Tim Russert died just two weeks ago, but the legacy he left to all who entered his life is captured in the comments made about him by his friends and colleagues. These are just a few of them. Tim was a man who was kind and gracious. Tim invited you into his life and he always took a real interest in you. In a room filled with very important persons Tim could make you feel like you were the most important person in a room. Tim made newcomers to journalism feel comfortable and competent. He believed they had something important to contribute to his life and journalism. You didn’t feel smaller by being in Tim’s presence; you felt larger; he made you valued as a human being in a town which can be quite un-hospitable, with people who like to make you feel small.
Well, do you hear the message I hear in each of these comments? It’s pretty clear, I think. Tim Russert exemplified hospitality. Hospitality was Tim Russert’s default mode. But there is something else you need to know about him. Tim Russert was deeply religious; a publicly religious man; a faithful, practicing Christian. And it showed. Which made me come to this conclusion about the people who commented on the impact Tim had on their life. As I listened to the energy in their voices, as I watched their faces and their body language, I realized how hungry people are for the kind of hospitality Tim Russert was able to give, especially as they pointed out the un-hospitable climate of Washington. I realized how starved people are for the wealth of blessing Tim Russert was able to give by his hospitable presence in their life. I realized how much people are longing to hear the gospel preached, but not in words. Rather in the way that Tim Russert preached it: “Here I am, Lord.” And here you are. Come on in. Pull up a chair. Nice to see you. Welcome!