Showing posts with label hospitality. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hospitality. Show all posts

Friday, September 28, 2018

Gospel text for Sunday 30 September 2018


Mark 9:38-50        John said to Jesus, “Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he was not following us.” But Jesus said, “Do not stop him; for no one who does a deed of power in my name will be able soon afterward to speak evil of me. Whoever is not against us is for us. For truly I tell you, whoever gives you a cup of water to drink because you bear the name of Christ will by no means lose the reward.

“If any of you put a stumbling block before one of these little ones who believe in me, it would be better for you if a great millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea. If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life maimed than to have two hands and to go to hell, to the unquenchable fire. And if your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life lame than to have two feet and to be thrown into hell. And if your eye causes you to stumble, tear it out; it is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and to be thrown into hell, where their worm never dies, and the fire is never quenched.

“For everyone will be salted with fire. Salt is good; but if salt has lost its saltiness, how can you season it? Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with one another.”

Reflection  Recently a group of parishioners joined me to Pray for Peace with a diverse group of folks at the Muslim Community Center. Following the evening call to prayer we were served tea and Noah’s pudding. This simple act of hospitality is as much a revelation of God’s presence and action on earth as any Christian teaching, preaching or healing. In fact I would argue that the sweet and savory flavors of Noah’s pudding articulate an unsurpassed theology of union without uniformity, communion without conformity. Affixed to the cover of each container of Noah’s pudding was this message. 

“When Noah’s ark came to rest on Mt Ararat, Noah’s family celebrated with a special dish. SInce their supplies were nearly exhausted, what was left was cooked together to form a pudding, what is now called ashure. Ashure is a holiday celebrated annually in Turkey. It signifies many events for Muslims, among the most significant being Noah’s ark set on dry land. The month long festivities center on promoting friendhship, good relations between neighbors and universal peace and understanding.” In other words, Noah’s pudding is made of left overs, things that folks usually do not put together, just like the Presbyterian, Lutheran, Sikh, Roman Catholic, LDS, Muslim and Episcopalian folks, all mixed together in prayer for the sweet hope of peace.

Though we may not describe a cup of water or Noah’s pudding as acts of great power, we certainly see them as acts of love. And frankly, if our eyes are dim and our hearts hardened such that we fail to apprehend these gestures of hospitality as a revelation of God’s love then we may as well tie an enormous weight around our necks and be thrown into the sea. 

What is the point of proclaiming the Kingdom of God for all people if we step on or over one another? Better we should cut off our feet. What is the point of proclaiming God’s presence and action on earth is we fail to see simple acts of generosity as revelations of God’s presence and action among us? Better we should tear out our eyes. 

Jesus extends the endowment of his love to transform the lives of ordinary people, one person at a time. He welcomes a shunned man disfigured with leprosy (Mark 1:40–45), he forgives a man who is paralyzed by sin (Mark 2:1–12), he breaks Sabbath law to heal a man with a withered hand (Mark 3:1–6), he violates just about every religious custom by healing a hemorrhaging woman (Mark 5:25–34), he raises a religious official’s daughter from the dead, (Mark 5:21–42)  heals a deaf mute (Mark 7:31–37) and restores sight to a blind man at Bethsaida (Mark 8:22–25).

Jesus is also the consummate host, multiplying loaves and fish to feed crowds of four and five thousand people (Mark 8.1-10, Mark 6.30-44). Who knows why this crowd feeding story is told twice in Mark’s gospel? It may have been rerun to make the point to people who would hear, not read, the gospel. Even the least bit of hospitality, a few loaves of bread and a couple of fish, is sufficient to feed and transform the hearts and the minds of the masses. In the Episcopal Church we embody this wisdom every Sunday in our Eucharist. 

A tiny bit of bread, the smallest gluten free wafers known to humankind, yet this simple act of hospitality offered to anyone who extends their hands in humble supplication has the power to transform lives. And the same is so for the mere sip of wine. From the first time I served as a lay eucharistic minister offering the chalice to the people, I witnessed the depth and breadth of humanity in the eyes of the people. Brimming with tears of joy, loss and fear, squeezed shut in deep concentration, wide in wonder, drawn in consternation, staring far away. Then the singular word of assent, sometimes barely audible, others with a nod, or like one person whom I will always hear, two distinct syllables, said with the full force of her being. Ah - men. Derived from the Hebrew āmēn, which means certainty, truly, it is so.

One at a time we receive the body and blood of Christ, we accept the presence of God into whatever state we bring to the table; blind, mute, deaf, hard of heart, paralyzed by illness, possessed by demons, obcessed with addictions, drenched in fear or full of joy and gratitude. God meets us one on one, exactly as we are, offering the simplest gesture of hospitality, a bit of bread, a sip of wine.  All that is left for us to do is avow its veracity saying, “Amen, it is so.”


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Monday, July 2, 2012

Gospel text Sunday 8 July, 2012

Mark 6:1-13
Jesus left that place and came to his hometown, and his disciples followed him. On the sabbath he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were astounded. They said, "Where did this man get all this? What is this wisdom that has been given to him? What deeds of power are being done by his hands! Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary and brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon, and are not his sisters here with us?" And they took offense at him. Then Jesus said to them, "Prophets are not without honor, except in their hometown, and among their own kin, and in their own house." And he could do no deed of power there, except that he laid his hands on a few sick people and cured them. And he was amazed at their unbelief.

Then he went about among the villages teaching. He called the twelve and began to send them out two by two, and gave them authority over the unclean spirits. He ordered them to take nothing for their journey except a staff; no bread, no bag, no money in their belts; but to wear sandals and not to put on two tunics. He said to them, "Wherever you enter a house, stay there until you leave the place. If any place will not welcome you and they refuse to hear you, as you leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them." So they went out and proclaimed that all should repent. They cast out many demons, and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them."


Reflection
Can you imagine being one of Jesus’ disciples? You’ve been following him all over creation, listening and watching him preach and teach and do astonishing deeds of power, you know, healing and casting out demons, raising a little girl from the dead.  Jesus has even given you some off line or private lessons, explaining stories to you that were not meant for the ears of those outside the inner circle of disciples. When I imagine being one of those disciples it makes me feel kind of special, but only until it gets to the part about Jesus sending me out to do what he has been doing. “Oh dear. Are you kidding me Jesus? You want me to do what you have been doing and I can’t even take any food or money?  It’s dangerous out there. Thieves lurk all along the roads. I will be incredibly vulnerable and utterly dependent on the good will of strangers.”
 
Can you imagine Jesus shaking his head and saying, “You got it. You are vulnerable. You are dependent. As you enter each town you are to present yourselves as people in need. Your survival depends on the good will of strangers. And in dong this you will provide the opportunity for the kingdom of God to flourish?” Now it’s time for me to shake my head. “Are you kidding me? We just left your hometown Jesus, and your own people wouldn’t give you the time of day. How can we depend on strangers?” And Jesus might reply, “The thing about strangers is they can’t presume to ‘know’ who you are. They can’t put you in a little box and say, “You can carve wood and hammer nails, but you sure can’t preach or teach or do deeds of great power.” When you show up with nothing, all they can presume is that you need their help. The strangers who choose to welcome you, to invite into their home and feed you, are embodying hospitality and compassion. Your very presence ignites a spark of the Good News in them. Together your need and their hospitality is the context within which God’s kingdom blossoms. Now as you sit at their table and begin to preach and teach, do healings and exercise “authority over unclean spirits” it is like a gentle breeze fanning a new flame. The spark of compassion already expressed by the stranger grows as they hear and receive the Good News of God’s kingdom present, already not yet, being shared by you.“

"When strangers choose not to welcome you, don’t waste your time or treasure. If the spark of compassion is not ignited by your need, they have already chosen to harden their hearts to the kingdom of God. Don’t begrudge them their choice.  Just be on your way. They will never know that they missed an encounter with the kingdom of God.” Which makes me think about the admonition, “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels without knowing it.” (Hebrews 13.2)

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Gospel Text for Sunday, June 26th, 2011

Matthew 10:40-42

Jesus said, "Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. 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."