Sonia Dunbar

Greensboro UCC

August 29, 2010

Angels and Radical Hospitality

(Genesis 18.1-8 and Hebrews 12.14-15, 13.1-3, 5, 7-8)

As I read the lectionary passages for today, searching for the verses which would inspire me for this reflection, I kept returning to the passage in Hebrews and specifically to the first and second verses of Chapter 13:  “Let mutual love continue.  Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.”

Disguised angels appear throughout the Bible, often looking no different from ordinary humans.  In the passage from Genesis for example, God and two angels look like three very ordinary men when they appear to Abraham and Sarah.  They could have been peasants, robbers, camel drivers, or any number of a host of outcasts from the dregs of that society.  Abraham has never seen these men before and he certainly does not know who they truly are.  But he greets them and treats them in a most remarkable manner.  As he sees the men from the doorway of his tent on a typical, scorching mid-day in the Middle Eastern dessert, he gets up, runs out to them, and bows deeply.  He asks that they grant him the honour of bringing them some of his precious stores of water to drink, of giving them an opportunity to wash their hot, achy feet and allowing them to rest next to his tent in the shade of a tree.  Although this offer may not stand out to us in our marvelously rich 21^st century culture, for its time and its circumstances, Abraham’s offer was nothing short of extravagant.  But when the three accept his offer, Abraham and Sarah go above and beyond that original offer by not simply providing them bread and water, but serving them specially made cakes from their best flour, plus meat, cheese and milk.  The hosts didn’t even join in the meal with the strangers; Abraham stood nearby, under a tree, ready to wait upon them.

What struck me in particular about this story was that there was nothing in the telling of it which could lead us to believe that Abraham treated these three men any differently from any other travelers who had previously crossed his path.

The more I meditated on these passages, the more brightly the spotlight glared on my personal failures and weaknesses.  So forgive me that this reflection is a bit of a confessional musing.

On the cusp of another church school year as we begin our efforts to keep - and improve - church school attendance, the demographics of this, my home church, came starkly into focus, a focus highlighted recently for me in realizing that at 47, I am often the baby of the choir.  So, where are the disguised angels who are our children?  Our youth?  For that matter, where are the disguised angels who are their parents?  I do not believe we will find the answers until we can first face these questions inspired by our scripture passages today:  How do we as a denomination, as a church, as a community, how do I as an individual, treat the disguised angels we come upon?  How do we and more important, how should we?

It seems clear from the Abraham story and the admonition in Hebrews that mere kindness isn’t sufficient.  Nor is generic hospitality.  We are seeking to entertain angels and angels are divine beings after all; so the kindness we show, the hospitality we embody should be appropriate for their status.  And what does that hospitality look like for a Christian church community in the 21^st century?

Robert Schnase, a United Methodist Bishop, provides some guidance to living these questions in his book, Five Practices of Fruitful Congregations. In his chapter entitled, “The Practice of Radical Hospitality,” Schnase either directly or indirectly helps to identify three necessary themes:  1) the identity of the host; 2) the identity of the recipient; and 3) constituent elements of a level of hospitality which he believes is necessary to save the Christian churches.

Who are the hosts?

So who is it who is supposed to provide the hospitality to the strangers on behalf of the church?

Did you notice that in the Genesis story Abraham didn’t designate the responsibility of playing host to anyone else, like, say, his pastor?  He and his family took on the responsibility and privilege of welcoming and comforting these people he did not know.  Similarly, in Hebrews, which was written to a Christian community as a whole, the verse admonishing us to give hospitality to strangers comes fast on the heels of the reminder to:  “Let mutual love continue.”

Who are we collectively then as the hosts to the world of angels who can grace our sacred community?  Schnase describes a congregation as “a school for love, the place where God’s Spirit forms us and the place where we learn to give love to and receive love from friends, neighbors, and strangers.”  Let me repeat that.  A congregation is, “a school for love, the place where God’s Spirit forms us and the place where we can learn to give love to and receive love from friends, neighbors and strangers.”

Notice that this definition doesn’t use the passive forms of the verbs.  We shouldn’t be content with just learning what love “is”, or making bullet-point lists of ways in which we can provide caring without getting our hands dirty.  Abraham didn’t just yell from the doorway, “Hey, I’ve got water; help yourself.”  He left his comfortable seat in the doorway of his own tent and ran out to stop the travelers, offer his gifts and then waited to see that they had all they wanted, irrespective of who they were.

None of us can be sure that we will never be the one to whom a divine messenger will appear.  None of us can be sure that we’re not the one whom God has made responsible for bringing the one most needy for divine love into this church-house.  WWJD - what would Jesus do?  That’s pretty trite these days, but the question remains valid.  Who would Jesus allow through our doors?  Who would Jesus actively invite in?  And how would Jesus treat her or him once here?

Who are the Angels?

What does an angel look like?  Several years ago the movie “Michael” came out and the part of the archangel was played by John Travolta.  In the first scene where Michael appears, Travolta is slogging down the stairs, unshaven, slovenly, wearing boxers, a sleeveless white T-shirt and black socks.  Certainly not the vision most of us have of a heavenly messenger from God.  What he provided and achieved though by the end of the film couldn’t leave anyone in doubt that they had been in the presence of divinity.

Now, once upon a time, on a Sunday morning not unlike this, in a little white church, in a little rural town, there appeared a strange man.  He smiled at the people, said “Hello,” laughed with the children and sat down in the back pew, immediately behind one of the distinguished elders of the church.

Worship services went along as they had for many Sundays, for many years, and the congregation settled comfortably into the pews as the pastor began her sermon.  Everything preceded as usual for several minutes, when suddenly, following a particularly salient point in the sermon, the strange man piped up from the back pew, “Amen!”  The members of the congregation shifted uncomfortably in their seats.  Some glanced out of the corners of their eyes at the man and many pursed their lips in annoyance.  The pastor thought, “Good!  This fellow is with me on this,” and she began speaking with just a bit more energy and conviction.

Another few minutes pass and the pastor arrives at another key lesson for the day.  The strange man’s right arm shoots up, fist raised, a broad grin on his face:  “Hallelujah!” he exclaims.  The congregation members now openly turn toward the man and glare at him.  Several exchange whispers of annoyance.  The distinguished elder sitting in front of the man fumes, while the pastor becomes more impassioned and inspired by the outburst, delivering her sermon with more zeal that she had felt in years.

Another few minutes, another core teaching and the pastor suddenly emphasizes her point by pounding her fist down on the lectern.  The congregation gasps.  The strange man jumps to his feet, both arms waving in the air, smiling eyes focused heavenward: “Praise the Lord!” he shouts.

The elder whirls around and confronts the stranger:  “Sir.  We do not ‘Praise the Lord’ in this church!”

Are there times when we have told angels disguised as strangers that they cannot “Praise the Lord” in our church?  I certainly hope not.  But, do we do it silently by expecting newcomers to act like us old-timers?  Do we silently tell our children that, by expecting them to be as silent as adults and sitting still for an hour on hard, wood benches?  What if our next angel walked through that door, with spiked blue hair, pierced eyebrows, combat boots with chains, laughing uproariously?  Would we silently ignore her and by our silence tell her she can’t “Praise the Lord” in our church?  Or would we introduce her to everyone, tell her choir practice starts at 8:30 on Sunday morning, offer her coffee and crackers after services, and invite her to bring her children and her friends to church next Sunday because all would be welcome?

If this woman walked through the door right now, how would we know she isn’t an angel?  How do you know I’m not?  If anyone has an ‘angel-o-meter’ on hand, I’d really love to see it.

So these two scripture passages are telling us that all of us are responsible for providing extravagant hospitality to everyone.  Tall order.  But now what is the hospitality which we are expected to share as 21^st century Christians?

What is Christian hospitality?

Schnase says that:  “Hospitality is a quality of spiritual initiative, the practice of an active and genuine love, a graciousness unaffected by self-interest, an opening of ourselves and our faith community to receive others.”   He doesn’t stop with that, however.  He also notes that Christian hospitality includes “a love that motivates members to openness and adaptability, a willingness to change behaviors in order to accommodate the needs and receive the talents of newcomers.”

Every newcomer changes us down to the core of our being, whether we desire it or not, whether we recognize it or not.  Close your eyes for a moment.  Take a deep breath in.  And exhale.  Now think of the people immediately surrounding you.  Take another deep breath in, but this time, don’t breathe in anything which was exhaled by the people around you.  Trying not to adapt to a stranger is like trying not to inhale air exhaled by someone else; eventually, even if you succeed, you die.

Spiritual initiative cannot take place in a single hour, once a week, in a particular building, surrounded by the same faces.  Jesus of Nazareth did not guide us to be who we have become, or even desire to be, by sequestering himself in temples and never challenging the traditions of his faith.  He was a radical thorn in the side of the religious status quo.  And he even changed his behavior to accommodate the needs and talents of others on occasion.  I believe that I owe it to myself, that we owe it to ourselves, that we owe it to our children, to look deeply and honestly into the mirror held aloft by these scripture passages and see where we can welcome others in a more Godly, more Christ-like manner.

As we look toward blessing this community for years well beyond our present day, as we prepare to welcome children back into the joy which can be experienced playing ‘Follow the Leader’ with Jesus, may we find angels everywhere and may we embrace them deeply.  With Wisdom, Compassion and Forgiveness, we humbly say, “Amen.”

THE ONE AND THE NINETY NINE

8 15 10

MATTHEW 18:1-14

ANTHONY E.ACHESON, M.DIV.

You and I live in a society in which great deal of attention and resources tend to get focused on those who are considered to be the best and the brightest among us. The dominant mindset of our culture says that everyone ought to be able to keep up; and if someone falls behind, it is probably because they have failed to take proper responsibility in some way for themselves. Yes, there may have been adverse cultural conditions at work, but there is a strong line of thinking in our culture that holds the belief that those left behind should have tried more strenuously, studied more diligently, worked more consistently, and perhaps even lived more righteously. Our culture tends pretty heavily toward saying that the present and the future belong to those who were born with talent and worked hard to develop it.

In today’s story from Matthew 18, however, Jesus is clearly focusing on those whose life has not been so smooth.  First he turns to a child who, according to the social norms of the day, did not have equal standing or significance to an adult. Jesus is referring symbolically here to any individual who is considered to be less than the standard set by the status quo. Jesus says to the dominant majority take care or be careful that you do not despise one of these little ones even if you think of them as being the least among you.

Then, to emphasize this priority for Jesus concerning the value of the least among us, Jesus gives this powerful illustration: If a shepherd has 100 sheep and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the 99 on the mountain and go in search of the one that went astray; and if he finds it, truly, I tell you, he rejoices over it more than over the ninety-nine that never went astray. This illustration teaches us at least three things about Christian life and the life of the Christian community.

First, the illustration lifts up the need for every serious follower of Christ to take close and constant inventory of what is happening in his or her life, both on an interior level and also with respect to what is going on around us. In the illustration, how would the shepherd have known that one of his sheep had gone astray if he had not been taking constant inventory of his flock? Notice that the shepherd does not assume that all of the sheep are safely in the flock. Ninety-nine sheep could and would easily look like 100 sheep from a distance. The only way to detect the deficiency was for the shepherd to conduct a careful inventory. At a general cursory glance, our lives may look to be in order and may look to be OK, but take a closer look at the details of our daily lives. Take a closer look at our work performance and our behind-the-scenes behavior. Take a closer look at what really motivates and moves us to do the things that we do and say. Take a closer look at our chronic attitudes. We all know how to make a good presentation from a distance. But closer inspection and constant inventory helps to avoid the pitfalls of self-deception. And we shouldn’t always have to depend upon someone else to tell us where we are weak and wanting. We should be candid enough with ourselves that we can admit and address our own fallacies and flaws without getting defensive, making excuses, and always trying to lay blame elsewhere for our shortcomings on someone else. The best evaluation is a self-evaluation. Shakespeare has one of his characters say, “To thine own self be true and it follows as the night follows day that thout canst not then be false to any man.” The shepherd in this illustration of Jesus does not need anyone to tell him that something is missing. This shepherd conducts his own inventory, inspects his own work, and determines for himself that he is deficient by one sheep.

Then secondly, the illustration teaches us that everyone has equal value. The majority may rule, and whenever we talk about a majority we are talking about large numbers. But according to Jesus, in the kingdom of God, value is not defined by great numbers. If Jesus defined values by the greater numbers, the shepherd in the illustration never would have left 99 sheep to go after just one. The value system of heaven defies our mathematical assumptions. Why would the shepherd risk the security of the greater number to attend to the needs of just one? Most of us would not have done that because we are impressed and moved by large numbers. But in the eyes of heaven each and every individual is precious.

Legend has it that in a rural region of Kentucky during the early 1800s, a young school teacher showed up at a wooden-framed school house one Autumn morning ready to teach her class of students. At the beginning there were a handful of students, but after the first few days of school, she was disappointed that only one student showed up for class consistently. That one student, though, did come every day. After a while, the teacher got over her disappointment, and the teacher determined to just make the best of her one student. So she prepared to teach that one student like she was preparing to teach 50. She poured into that one student all of the knowledge and wisdom she had. She gave that one student the best that she could give. When the school year was complete and it was time for her one consistent pupil to move on, she was proud of her work but every now and then the thought crept in, ‘O, but I have only really helped one student. And that was the true. But something else was also true. That that one student’s name was Abraham Lincoln. There is a message right there in that one. Never underestimate the power of one. Don’t overlook any single one. Don’t take anyone for granted. Don’t ever assume that God cannot use and God cannot bless anyone.

Finally, this illustration teaches us that we should never give up on anybody or anything God has given us without a valiant effort. When the shepherd discovered that he was missing one sheep, in spite of all the negative odds against that one sheep’s survival, the shepherd made his trek back out into the wilderness searching for his one lost sheep. We could see him walking through the valley of the shadow of death, but he would not give up on that one lost sheep. We could see him climbing up some steep mountains, but he would not give up on that one lost sheep. We could see him wading through some rough waters, but he would not give up on that one lost sheep. We could see him looking over some steep cliffs, but would he give up on that one lost sheep? We could see the sun fading fast behind the boulders of the western horizon, but still the shepherd would not give up on that one lost sheep. He kept on searching until, finally, he sees something moving through the dark shadows of the night. Then, just before danger can strike, just before the wild predators can pounce, the shepherd takes his sheep up into his arms, hugs it gently, and carries it back to the safety of the fold with joy in his heart and praises on his lips.

In this life which we all have to make our way through, we can lose some precious things. Marriages can turn sour. Relationships get rocky. Our career plans can go belly-up. Our money can run out. Our friends can disappear. Our families can suffer heavy blows. But before we call it all up as a loss and completely give up on our loved ones, or on ourselves, or on our dreams and hopes, we should make sure we DON’T give up on whatever is precious, and we should make sure we don’t give up on our spiritual resources as a source of strength; we should make sure we do keep on searching and keep on reaching and keep on trying. We should never easily give up on any relationship without giving it all we’ve got. We should never let go of anything good, anything of value, without doing everything we can to hold on. We may have to go out of our own way in order to retrieve it. We may have to leave our comfort zones in order to get back that which the hand of heaven has given us. We may have to go sometimes the extra mile to accomplish our mission, but we will never know what the Divine hand has in store for us unless we keep on searching.

The different disciplines of the spiritual life exist for us to provide real access to the one who never gave up on us. May we also never give up on that Divine Spirit or on ourselves, or on life itself, so long as it is ours to live and breathe. And we pray and ask all this in the name of the living Christ. Amen.