HOSPITALITY FOR ITS OWN SAKE

(Preached on Sunday, June 26, 20005)

This is a large work I’ve called you into, but don’t be overwhelmed by it.  It’s best to start small.  Give a cool cup of water to someone who is thirsty, for instance.  The smallest act of giving or receiving makes you a true apprentice.  You won’t lose out on a thing.                                      -Matthew 10:42

 

A Kansan who owned a general store made it a habit to offer a verse of scripture whenever anyone purchased something from him.  The group of people who sat around the store in this rural area enjoyed the exchanges, because some of the purchases challenged the imagination, and the store owner’s honesty.  One winter day a Texan stopped in, wanting to buy a blanket for his horse.  The locals knew that the store stocked two types of blankets.  One sold for $60, and the expensive one cost $89.95.  He showed the first.  “No, that’s not good enough.  I need something warmer for my horse.”  He showed the second type, for $89.95.  “That’s not good enough, either.  Don’t you understand?  This is for my horse, and nothing’s too good for my horse.  Now show me your most expensive blanket!”  The store became very quiet as the storekeeper reached under the counter to the $89.95 stock, pulled out a plaid one, and spread it on the counter with great finesse.  “This is our finest, the only one I have.  Colorfast, 100 percent wool, with a very tight weave.  It sells for $250.”  “Now you are talking, I’ll take it.”  He counted out the money, folded the blanket, and left with a big grin on his face.  As the shopkeeper opened the cash drawer and carefully counted the money he said, “Matthew 25:35, altered version: ‘He was a stranger and I took him in.’”

 

You just can’t help some people.

But Jesus encourages us to try.

Hospitality was a highly regarded value in the Mediterranean world.

Without Holiday Inns scattered around the landscape, travelers risked the natural dangers of cold nights and blistering days, as well as the intentional human dangers of robbery and even murder.

Welcoming a stranger into your home was the only way to provide protection.

There are countless stories in the scripture illustrating this truth.

 

But Jesus takes simple hospitality to new levels.

First, he includes all the worst sort of people in his welcome.

Down-and-out “losers” who went unobserved, or worse yet were ignored and avoided by religious people, took a central place in the life of Jesus: a woman caught in adultery, lepers oozing disease, unkempt shepherds, handicapped beggars on the side of the road.

These people were always welcomed by Jesus with open arms and open heart and he always did for them what he could and offered what they most needed.

Mostly that was acceptance, respect, dignity, kindness.

 

Second, Jesus suggests the importance of doing even the smallest deeds with genuine love.  The mention of offering a cup of cold water to one of God’s little ones suggests service beyond the bare minimum.

Water stored in the household pitcher would be lukewarm.

To provide cool water to a traveler meant a trip to the village well to draw and haul water.  The extra work is a gift that honors the guest.

Jesus calls for his followers to go the second mile and perform the extra service that is the hallmark of love.

 

Finally, Jesus calls us to provide hospitality with no thought to our own rewards, but just because it is the right thing to do — because it is the only way we can begin to repay the hospitality that has been extended to us by God through Jesus.

Writing in a book entitled “With Open Hands,” Henri Nouwen asserts “The challenge of the gospel lies precisely in the invitation to accept a gift for which we can give nothing in return.  For the gift is the very life breathe of God, the Spirit who is poured out on us through Jesus Christ.  This life breath frees us from fear and gives us new room to live.”

Nouwen’s words remind us that the Christian faith is founded not upon your action or my action, but upon God’s action: God loving us with a love that willn ot let us go; God choosing to dwell among us in Christ, taking human form; God seeking relationship and reconciliation with all the world; God adopting persons of faith as daughters and sons.

Our task is but to receive the gift, to recognize and live in the assurance that all that we have in life — and indeed, all that we are — comes as gift from God.

Once we embrace this gracious gift which we cannot earn and which cannot be repaid, only then are we freed to become gracious givers.

 

According to a popular story, a man died and went to heaven and was met at the gate by St. Peter who said, “Before I can let you in, I have to see if you have accumulated 100 points on earth.”

The man thought for a moment and said, “Well, I was carried to the church when I was a baby, baptized, and confirmed, and I was in church almost every Sunday of my life.”  Peter said, “That’s good.  That’s worth one point.”

“One point?” the frustrated man answered.

So he thought harder, “I was on a church board for 20 years, and I taught Sunday school for 25 years.”  Peter said, “That’s good.  That’s worth another point.”

Now out of sorts, the man dug deeper into his arsenal of accomplishments and said, “I’ve tried to be a good husband, father, and neighbor.”  Peter said, “That’s very fine.  That is worth another point.”

Completely discouraged and feeling hopeless the man said, “O my goodness.  I’ll never get into heaven except by the grace of God!”  Peter smiled and said, “That’s worth 97 points.  Come on in!”

 

It’s by grace that we enter into our life of faith, and it’s also grace that will be our ultimate reward.  That’s where Jesus was pointing his disciples, and his word for them is a word for us as well.  Whoever welcomes us welcomes him, and the welcoming provides its very own grace-filled reward.

Hospitality is nothing short of being an act of grace.

 

Far too often we approach hospitality with the attitude that minimal good manners may require us to offer food or shelter to those who come to us in need, but we far too often do not offer any more than that.

We tend to see such people more as objects of pity rather than as friends in God.

But a troubling notion sometimes gets into my head.

When a street person reaches out a dirty hand hoping for a buck or two, or some stranger starts pouring out their heart, or I see somebody walking away from a broken-down car beside the road, an uncomfortable thought crosses my mind.

What if God arranged for me to be there just so I could love that neighbor?

Maybe God said, “There’s someone who needs help, and I know just who I can send to take care of this for me!”

 

Hospitality requires a risk and vulnerability, courage and sacrifice.

Opening the door too a stranger on the street breaks down a barrier of protection and offers the possibility of love and friendship in a world of walls and loneliness.

A smile requires eye contact.

A handshake means unclenching fists.

A piece of bread breaks down hunger and offers new life.

A cup of cold water to a thirsty soul, small and simple as that act is, can be a powerful message.

In an uncaring world, a world where many receive only rebuke and rejection, our little, unspectacular acts of kindness and open generosity can make all the difference, may be the only sign of the love of God that some other person experiences.

 

A bishop in the Methodist Church went to dinner at the end of a Church conference.