Entertaining Angels: Welcome Sunday
By Caroline Dean
October 21, 2012
Genesis 18: 1-15
[ Audio
(mp3, 5.8Mb) ]
Reading from Genesis 18:1-15:
The
Lord appeared to Abraham near the great oak trees of Mamre while he was sitting
at the entrance of his tent in the heat of the day. Abraham looked up and
saw three men standing nearby. When he saw them, he hurried from the
entrance of his tent to meet them and bowed low to the ground. He said,
“If I have found favor in your eyes, my lord, do not pass your servant
by. Let a little water be brought, and then you may all wash your feet
and rest under this tree. Let me get you something to eat, so you can be
refreshed and then go on your way.”
“Very
well” they answered, “do as you say.”
So
Abraham hurried into the ten to Sarah. “Quick,” he said, “get three
measures of our finest flour and knead it and bake some bread.”
Then
he ran to the herd and selected a choice, tender calf and gave it to a servant,
who hurried to prepare it. He then brought some curds and milk and the
calf that had been prepared, and set these before them. While they ate,
he stood near them under a tree.
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A poetry reading from
Naomi Shihab Nye:
Red Brocade
The Arabs used to say,
When a stranger appears at your door,
feed him for three days
before asking who he is,
where he's come from,
where he's headed.
That way, he'll have strength enough to answer.
Or, by then you'll be such good friends you don't care.
Let's go back to that.
Rice? Pine nuts?
Here, take the red brocade pillow.
My child will serve water to your horse.
No, I was not busy when you came!
I was not preparing to be busy.
That's the armor everyone put on
to pretend they had a purpose in the world.
I refuse to be claimed.
Your plate is waiting.
We will snip fresh mint into your tea.
|
Then
the three men asked “Where is your wife Sarah?”
“There
in the tent,” Abraham answered.
Then
the Lord said, “I will surely return to you about this time next year and Sarah
your wife will have a son.”
Now
Sarah was listening at the entrance to the ten, which was behind him.
Abraham and Sara were already very old, and Sarah was past the age of
childbearing. So Sarah laughed to herself as she though, “After I am worn
out and my lord is old will I now have this pleasure?”
Then
the Lord said to Abraham, “Why did Sarah laugh and say, “Will I really have a child,
now that I am old?” Is anything too wondrous for God?” I will
return to you at the appointed time next year and Sarah will have a son.”
Sarah
was afraid, so she lied and said, “I did not laugh.” But he said, “Yes,
you did laugh.” Then the men rose up from there, and looked down toward
Sodom; and Abraham was walking with them to send them off.
LET US PRAY: Loving God,
you run to us this morning and bow to the earth, offering us your
blessing. Release us this day from our busyness and our fear that we
might embrace you and each other. Amen.
Confession: My name is Caroline Dean and I am addicted to “to-do lists.”
I have at least 10 to do lists on my desk right now. I get a rush of
adrenaline when I feel productive or accomplished; I feel sad and stressed when
I happen to have a day that is not “productive” enough. And recently I
have been reminded recently that we live in a culture of “to do list-aholics” –
so luckily I'm in good company.
We live in a fact-paced, hyper-accomplished, success-driven, over-programmed,
pressure-cooker culture; a culture that pushes us to the paradoxical extremes
of “fast” yoga classes and drive through funerals. And it's becoming
clear that my little neurotic dependency on “to doing” is a major barrier
snuffing out many of the things that I value in life, e.g. down time, drop in
visits, space to be creative, and build deeper relationships. And many of
these “slower” things that I value which are slipping away in our “drive
through culture” are connected to the simple spiritual practice of hospitality.
I wonder what was on Abraham's to-do list that day? Feed the goats.
Cut some wood. Fetch some water. Perhaps he has written on his list
“sit at the entrance of my tent for a while at the heat of the day.”
Maybe his “to do list” is pretty simply because that's what he does almost
every day. And then on this strange day suddenly, Abraham looks up, and
finds three strange men under the giant oak trees just on the edge of his land.
And suddenly Abraham's to-do list goes out the window. And he rushes up
to them and bows himself to the earth – and now this is the first part of this
story that I find a little odd. Generally if there were someone in need
of food, water, or a place to rest, I would expect that the person in need
would initiate contact – gently knock on the tent post or meekly summoning us
to ask for help. But this is quite another story. Abraham is the
one who runs to the men falling at their feet, almost begging them to
stay. He offers food, water and a safe resting place. And yet he
seems to be the one that is more in need than they are! He is on the edge
of his seat, hoping that they give him the opportunity to host.
And with great relief he hears them say basically “okay, sure” as if they
aren't really in need at all. And he runs off to busy himself with
preparations for their meal. It should be noted that this isn't just a
little cake of bread – it is their finest flour and most choice calf. It
reminds me of the banquet scene with the prodigal son – the bowing – the
cooking – the big “to do.” So finally Abraham proudly displays his feast
for his guests and rests under the giant oak trees watching them eat.
Here's the second odd movement of this story. The strange men (that we
know to be divine messengers or perhaps even divine themselves – later
Christians read this imagery as Trinitarian as representing God as
three-in-one), Anyway the strange men ask Abraham “Where is your wife Sarah?”
This is certainly my own cultural bias, but if I'm Abraham – I am on edge when
they ask this question. First of all how do they know her name?
That's just weird (remember we don't know these people are “divine” messengers
as of yet). And second of all, that question is out of nowhere. I
don't know you – I don't know where you're going or what your intentions
are. Aren't we supposed to chitchat and feel like we're friends and then
this question might be a little less odd.
But Abraham, “Good Ole Abraham,” sees nothing wrong with this picture, “she's
over there by the tent,” he says. And then there is big reveal of God's
blessing. One of the men says, again out of nowhere, “next year, I'll
come back and Sarah will have a boy.” And now Sarah enters scene with
laughter, she laughs to herself and thinks, “this is absurd, haven't these men
seen how old my husband is, we are ancient ‘officially on the other side of
mature' there is no way that we are having a kid.” And then she gets
called out – God says to Abraham, “why did Sarah laugh, is anything too
wondrous for God?” Again, the man says, “I will return next year and
Sarah will have a son.” The son will be Isaac, the son of promise, you
know Father Abraham who has many sons, Isaac is the first son. And Isaac
is the miracle, the blessing, and the father of Israel. So Sarah feeling
a bit scared and totally off guard, she peeks out of the tent and says, “But I
didn't laugh.” And then the man says, “Yea, you did.” And then just
as suddenly as they arrive, the men rise up and look down the road and
leave.
So in hindsight this visit was extremely productive! Abraham and Sarah
can check off the top “to do” on their list “have a son” which God promised to
them. Even though this blessing is more of a gift than an
accomplishment. There is no way that either of them expected this to
occur neither at this point in their lives nor during this strange
encounter.
In fact the “plight” of the sojourner in the Ancient Near East was desperate,
which is why this practice of extreme hospitality towards the stranger, was in
every way a matter of life and death. A widow, orphan, or traveler was
often in immediate need of food, water and a place to stay with no one else to
turn to.[1]
The extreme needs of the traveler in this context also meant that the traveler
more often than not had nothing to offer in return. And so the host has
no expectation of reciprocity. Which means that Abraham is operating in a
mode that is rare in our culture today. Abraham is receiving another with
no agenda.
So the question is, how much space do you carve out in your relationship with
God and with others without an agenda? How ready are we to respond to the
needs of our neighbors and even of strangers? This spiritual practice of
hospitality is not about accomplishing, pitching, selling, buying, producing,
and on and on. Don't get me wrong these are important skills and
necessarily realities. But how much of our daily life orients around
being together and that's it. That is the agenda. Be present.
Laugh. Celebrate. Play. Be a friend. Be a lover. Connect.
Serve.
This is your “anti-to-do list” because you can't check things off, but you can
create space for things to happen. And when things like friendship,
laughter, and love happen, it surprises us, it is the blessing, the gift that
is brought to us by the stranger. It's like the magic of a snow day or
day without power (as long as it doesn't turn into a week without power).
The “to do lists” get brushed aside and these interruptions pull us into the
moment. We are encouraged to actually be with the people around us to
play and to rest. This is the spiritual practice of hospitality, being
free enough to encounter each other. To run to each other and to offer
gifts. To eat together, be together and let that be enough.
Isn't this the mystery of being with God? We approach God with our “to do
list” and most of the time nothing gets checked off. The goal is to be
together, to connect, and to be transformed. When we encounter God, we
receive gifts that are unimaginable. The goal of being with God in
prayer, in worship, in singing, in nature and so on, is to receive God's love
and to then carry that love into the world. And this is not traditionally
“productive” but it is a spiritual practice that brings life, not because we
accomplish something or because we earn it, but because it is a free gift from
God.
So the second odd moment in this story for me, is when Abraham so nonchalantly
answers the question, “where is your wife?” And for me this reveals my
own subconscious fear of the stranger. It's the assumption that if I
don't know you and we happen to have an odd encounter, you must be up to no
good.
There was piece recently in the Summit Patch about the homeless folks who sleep
in the Summit train station at night. It was a complaint from a commuter
who could not find a place to sit on the benches. And the comments on
this post reflect general concern about safety, potential mental illness, and
little practical or compassionate suggestions to address this situation.
And this is a moment when I hope for higher Christian values like being concerned
as “our brother's keeper” and running to the stranger in need with help.
But I also recognize my own instincts towards the “stranger.” What about
mental illness and substance abuse? What about our children? What
about protecting “our own?”
And then I remembered some of the things that connect us with these
sojourners. Many of us, in this room, deal with issues surrounding
addiction and still struggle every day – and yet many of us have resources and
a community of support to help us through it. Many of us deal with issues
surrounding mental illness and yet many of us have the resources and sometimes
even a community of support to help guide us through it.
This is my question: what if we could be that community or help provide
those resources for just one of those individuals? What does that
practically look like? I don't know – let's talk about it! I have
some ideas… Maybe we run to them and bow to the earth and offer our food
and water or a place to rest and shower and feel new. But maybe that's
not what they need. But I do know that this is what WE need. We
need to let go of our fear, to teach our children not how to live a life of
success and security – but a life of adventure, of faith, of friendship, of
sacrifice and prayer.
Inspire, Welcome, Serve. The past few months our church has been working
with a team to re-articulate who we are as a community. We came up with
three core values to orient us. And this is the second Sunday, “welcome
Sunday” when we celebrate this new vision. This has been a beautiful way to
celebrate our strengths and creativity but it is also an opportunity to
challenge us to grow. When we say, “no matter who you are or where you
are on life's journey-you are welcome here” we really try to mean it! But
my question is “who's missing?”
Let me say that I confess and it is my own fear that limited my
imagination. We have had “Welcome Sunday” this day and we not invited the
“least of these” – some of the most vulnerable - in our community – we have not
offered them our coffee, our cookies, our crosses. We have not offered
them the Peace of Christ. We have failed. And here's the thing –
this is not the kind of guilt or failure – that shuts us down to grovel and
feel ashamed. This is the kind of failure that God can create something
beautiful out of, it kick us in the butt to get us moving. To get us
imagining, working and being together in such a way that might seem
absurd! It makes us laugh at the craziness of it all!
Inviting homeless friends into our church? With our children?
Sure-there are problems. Yes it would be risky and complicated. But
what if? What if life can blossom in a place that our society has deemed
barren? What if it's not too late? What if God's love has not run
out?
Isn't that Sarah's miracle? She thought that it was too late for
her. She thought that her time and God's promise had “run out.” And
this is the miracle of the resurrection, life in a place where no one expects
it – new hope in the darkness – a way in the dessert. And Sarah laughs in
the face of this miracle. It is absurd! But what if – what if
we really believed that nothing is too wondrous for God? What if we
really believe that?
And here is the big secret – we need new life too! We need to be released
from the chains of our busyness and our fear that we might love with God's love
– the kind of love that does not assess us first – for God's love is the love
that runs at us and bows down to the earth. God loves us first. God
doesn't say let's get this worked out and then you can be with me. God
waits for us and woos us and runs to us.
And so let us welcome each
other with this love, oriented around God's love, free from fear and the chains
of our busy lives. Is anything too wondrous for God? Amen.
