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Sermon: Holy Hospitality, Matt 10, Deut 10

[audio http://adamcopeland.files.wordpress.com/2008/06/holy-hospitality-matt-10-deut-10.mp3]

Sermon: Holy Hospitality

for audio, click above

Matthew 10:40-42
Deuteronomy 10:12-19
St. Columba Church
Evening Communion Service

Holy Hospitality

Adam J. Copeland

I haven’t really been counting, but I must have been welcomed into hundreds of homes this year, had thousands of conversations, and sipped millions of cups of tea.

In addition to homes and hospitals, I’ve had the pleasure of visiting our many members who stay in care homes throughout Ayr. I’ve only walked into a few wrong rooms, and I’ve now learned to strategically time my visits to particular care homes that serve afternoon sherry to residents (and visiting assistant ministers).

Perhaps because of these experiences, I was struck by a BBC story this week about the Martins Care home in Suffolk.

The story begins by quoting Jean Lavender, 88 years young, who last year could barely walk at all. This year, Jean goes on a walk most days, outside no less. Jean says she feels 20 years younger.

The article continues, many residents weigh in, testifying to their vastly improved health and energy level. The matron reports this year they’ve had–fever falls, fewer calls to the GP, cuts in required medications, better quality of sleep for residents, lower rates of agitation; just a generally more upbeat feel to the home’s atmosphere.

So what brought about these drastic improvements? What significant and costly measures did the home make to find such marked change in health and wellness?

Water. Last summer, the staff started a “water club” for their residents. They encouraged them to drink more water, installed water coolers, and put water jugs in each room–encouraging residents to drink eight glasses a day.

According to the article, the results speak for themselves. Whether due to placebo affect, or hydrating older bodies, the residents seem much happier and healthier than before.

My great-grandmother (on the Scottish side) always used to say, “Water rusts your innards.” Looks like she was mistaken.

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In this evening’s passage from Matthew, Jesus explains to the disciples the rewards of welcoming others, the call to hospitality.

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; 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. (Matt 10:41-43)

A cup of cold water, in Jesus day, would have been a rare treat. Early every morning, women went to the village well to draw water for the day. Coming from the bottom of a deep well, this water would be clear and cool. But just a few minutes in the hot Palestinian sun would melt even a block of ice.

So you might offer your dinner guest water, but not cold water. To serve cold water to a guest, someone from the house would need to run to the well, run home–which is tricky when carrying water–and hurry to offer the guest the cool water–quick, before it got hot.

In Jesus time, a glass of cool water would be a welcome treat.

Yet Jesus goes further. He says, “Whoever gives even a cup of cool water to one of these little ones” will receive their reward. Now in Jesus day “little ones” would have included children, but more as well: “little ones” are those of little standing in society, the unappreciated, the poor, prostitutes.

Offer that cool crisp thirst-quenching glass of water, Jesus says, even–no, especially–to those little ones of society. Hospitality extends to all; love does not play favorites.

Brother Daniel Homan in his book, Radical Hospitality says: “Hospitality has an inescapable moral dimension to it. It is not a mere social grace; it is a spiritual and ethical issue. It is an issue involving what it means to be human. All of our talk about hospitable openness doesn’t mean anything as long as some people continue to be tossed aside.” p.5 [As quoted in "The Art of Welcome" by Trace Haythorn: http://day1.net]

Arthur Sutherland states, “Hospitality is the practice by which the church stands or falls.”

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A story in last month’s New Yorker magazine described just the sort of radical hospitality Jesus suggests.

The Church of the Holy Apostles, in New York City, serves as the largest soup kitchen in the city. In 1982, the members of the small and dying church felt the need of the homeless men and women in their neighborhood so great, that they began a soup kitchen in their meager hall.

They had no idea who would show up, but on that first day 25 years ago, 35 homeless guests came through the line. And they haven’t stopped.

Today the soup kitchen serves 1100 meals each weekday. Of course, the guests don’t fit in the church hall, so after a fire destroyed the sanctuary, it was restored without fixed pews.

Now, every week day–come rain, come snow, come terrorist attack–under the vaulted arches of the sanctuary in a space very like this one, 1100 homeless people eat a meal that for many will be their only meal that day.

The very fact that it’s notable, a congregation using their sanctuary to practice radical hospitality, is a indictment of the modern church as we know it. Shouldn’t all churches use their buildings in ways most hospitable to their community? Churches not as architectural wonders from centuries past, but as modern hubs of mission, the center of Jesus’ radical hospitality.

The question for churches today must not be, “Are we showing hospitality” but always, always, “How can we practice hospitality even more?”

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Deuteronomy 10 addresses radical hospitality (if we can even call it that): God’s care for God’s people.

The Lord is not partial, we read. The Lord cares for the widow, executes justice for the orphan, and provides food and clothing to strangers. “I truly welcome all” the Lord reminds Moses and the Israelites. When you were once strangers in a strange land, I comforted you, led you to safety. Return one love for another.

Your ancestors went down to Egypt seventy persons; and now you are as numerous as the stars in heaven.

In Scotland today, many people practice hospitality; it is a social phenomenon not cornered by any one religion, or by those with no religion. For us Christians, however, the hospitality we practice comes from a response to God’s care for us. As Christians, our hospitality should come out of our deep sense of thanks for what God has already given us. Our hospitality towards others must always honor our Lord.

Our hospitality won’t be easy, but with God’s help, it may be holy–blessed by God.

True Christian hospitality doesn’t stop at our house or care home, nor does it extend only to our church building. Holy hospitality encompasses all one’s life: hospitable driving, hospitable office work, hospitality toward strangers, hospitality towards those silly neighbors you’ve known for years, hospitality towards creation in all its form, hospitality towards all those for whom Christ died–all the world.

Jesus’ words in Matthew may suggest a radical hospitality of Jesus–that in Christ’s love, all who welcome others are blessed whether they know Christ or not. Matthew isn’t quite clear, but it is clear that we, especially we who believe in Jesus Christ, are left with a mission: to respond to God’s love in Christ by welcoming others. And we must not stop; we must not waiver, or wander, until all are truly welcomed into Christ’s fold.

Holy hospitality.

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One Sunday morning, in a church not unlike ours, a visitor came into the sanctuary after worship had begun. Now this visitor was a bit different from those sitting in the congregation. While they had on their Sunday best, this visitor wore the only clothes she owned, scruffy jeans and a t-shirt. She carried all her belongings at her side, in a double plastic bag.

She entered during worship, and the door greeters either were asleep on the job or just unsure what to do, so this woman walked on in. And she didn’t find a seat in the back pews, and as she walked further up the aisle, the greeters in the back began to get a bit nervous.

There were no empty seats on the end of a pew–the old church members liked to make sure they controlled who sat beside them–so there was no place for this woman to sit, and not one member scooted down the pew to welcome to visitor.

So the scrubby visitor walked all the way up the central aisle, after having been offered not one seat. And she shrugged her tired shoulders and just plopped down on the floor, crossed her legs, and sat plumb in the front, in the middle of the aisle.

Now the greeters in the back were scared. What should they do? Should they wait till a hymn to ask her to leave, or just go right on up and remove her immediately?

One of the greeters eventually took charge. A stooped older man himself, he walked slowly down the aisle of the church, many an eye and whisper following his determined path.

And, eventually, when he got to the woman with her worn jeans and grocery sack, he, very slowly, sat down beside her, joining her on the floor in the middle of the aisle. Welcoming her to worship.

In response to God’s love, may you, and this Christian community, offer holy hospitality to all.

 

 

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