Foundry UMC DC: Sunday Sermons
Religion & Spirituality:Christianity
A sermon preached by Rev. Ginger E. Gaines-Cirelli at Foundry UMC April 10, 2016,the third Sunday of Easter.
Text:Luke 24:13-35
A “Pooka,” from Irish/Celtic mythology, is “afairy spirit in animal form.” I learned thisat an early age from watching the1950 film adaptation of the play Harvey. From the movie, I also learned that a Pookais “always very large. The Pooka appears here and there, now and then, to thisone and that one.” Harvey is a Pooka whoappears to Elwood P. Dowd as a six foot-3 ½ inch tall white rabbit. Most people can’t see Harvey but we’re led tobelieve that the rabbit is real—and that those with the eyes to see encounterhim to their delight. Elwood (played byJames Stewart) has the eyes to see—and not just Harvey, but everyone hemeets. He extends the same warmth andopenness to everyone, from the hospital gate attendant, Mr. Shimelplatzer, tothe physician Dr. Sanderson. On morethan one occasion Elwood invites folks he just met to his home for a dinnerparty. He gives them his card and makes sure they know which number to call incase they need to be in touch. He is awonderful example of one who welcomes the stranger. And as someone who spends most of his time witha six foot, three and a half inch tall white rabbit, Elwood P. Dowd is also anexample of one who welcomes the strange.
I’vebeen thinking about those words, “stranger” and “strange,” this week as wecontinue this series on being an “open house,” a community of welcome,inclusion, and radical hospitality. Fromancient times, hospitality has been understood as a bedrock value for thecreation and maintenance of an orderly, morally just civilization.[i] But there is always some ambivalence abouthospitality. In antiquity thestranger—one who is not part of one’s tribe, race, family, or religion—wasconsidered in one of two ways: as an enemy or as a guest/host. This inherent ambivalence about welcoming thestranger is found in the etymology of the language of hospitality. “In Greek, words of the xen stem (we’ve been hearing about xenophobia more than we care to,no?) mean ‘foreign’ or ‘strange’ but also ‘guest.’… In Latin, the word that signifies host is hospes and the word for enemy is hostis, from which our word hostile derives.”[ii] All this is to say that it is a deeply rootedpart of the human experience to encounter those outside our group, those whoare strange to us, as either potential foes or friends.
The Christian tradition provides clear direction onthis point. Last week I lifted up the monasticRule of St. Benedict that says every guest is to be treated tamquam Christus, as if they wereChrist. This rule is based on Jesus’swords in Matthew 25:35, “I was a stranger and you welcomed me.” Throughout the scriptures, Jesus is always inthe role of “stranger”—the one who was born in a stable because there wasn’troom for him elsewhere, the one who wanders without a home (Mt 8:20) anddepends upon the welcome and hospitality of others. Jesus is poor, comes from the proverbial“other side of the tracks,” (Jn 1:46) and isn’t really known or understood byanyone—even those closest to him. Thereare many ways to be a “stranger”— being a traveler, refugee, unknown to others,speaking a different language, of a different race or culture, being rich,being poor, being…different…strange to others. Jesus embodied pretty much all of that for folks he encountered. In Matthew 25, those to whom Jesus speaks ask,“When did we welcome you?” And Jesus says, “just as you did it to one of the least of these whoare members of my family, you did it to me.” (Mt 25:40)
“I was a stranger and you welcomed me,” saysJesus. Would Jesus say that to you? Let’s face it—our general tendency is towardthe ambivalence of which I spoke earlier. Perhaps, we don’t consciously think of persons who are not like us asenemies, but there can be a lack of comfort, ease, or understanding with folkswho are different. There may be a lackof energy or motivation to do what it takes to really welcome people westruggle to communicate with or to like or agree with. At worst, our reactionto some strangers may involve prejudice, judgment, hatred, fear, resentment andother destructive kinds of things. Thebottom line is that difference, otherness, “strange”-ness presents challengesin human relationship. But asChristians, we have been given a clear mandate; and that mandate is to welcomethe stranger, the “other,” the “strange.” As followers of Jesus, our focus is not on our comfort and ease but rather on easing the discomfort of thepersons in our midst who may be alone, vulnerable, hurt, or simply trying tofigure out the place and people in which they find themselves. // Again, I go back to the ancient monasticrule of St. Benedict. As one Benedictineteaches, “… the monk’ssilence and retirement are constantly being invaded by a very awkward reality. [Their]Work demands effort and often involves failure; reading means getting to gripswith ideas one may not find congenial; and guests? Well, guests are communitywrit large, the most demanding and difficult of all, for they are to bewelcomed tamquam Christus, as though Christ, and they have theunfortunate habit of behaving in very un-Christlike ways at times. It is herethat the monk discovers what his vows…really mean and begins to understand whypatience is his way of sharing in the passion of Christ.”[iii] Last week was the finalsession of the course I facilitated during Lent on spiritual practices. The topic was the practice of“community.” During the conversation,one participant reflected about the fact that Christian community isn’t easy—itrequires work, sacrifice, and even pain at times. We thought together about how nice it couldbe if relationships and community could be designed to serve us, our schedules,our preferences, our comfort levels. Butthen agreed that Christian community—and any honest, healthy relationship—willemphasize the care and needs of the other as much as one’s own needs and willalways require some work and sacrifice.
Over the years, I have thought a lot about the riskspeople take every time they choose to cross the threshold into a church. What will be found on the other side? Will they be welcomed as friends or treatedas enemies? These days, if we arepracticing hospitality well, folks will have found helpful information abouttheir first visit on our website or through a phone call to the churchoffice. This may minimize thesurprises. But the actual experience ofwalking into a new community—especially without any prior exposure tochurch—has to be daunting. Some yearsago, the United Methodist Church’s communications agency developed resources tohelp churches open their eyes to the strangers in their midst and to offerChristian hospitality. One of thoseresources was a video that told the tale of two churches. Both churches were told that on a specificdate, they would be receiving “a very important guest.” We then watched as the two churches wentabout their planning to welcome the guest. One church thought it would be smart to look for a special vehicle orextra important-looking people as indicators of the guest’s presence. They had wonderful plans for what to do whenthe obviously important guest arrived. The other church started their planning by studying the scriptures andpraying about how to prepare for this guest. They read those verses in Matthew 25 and others about welcoming thestranger. As a result, they thought theyprobably wouldn’t be able to recognize the special guest for sure and so theysimply needed to treat every person who entered as the “very important guest.” You can imagine the results. A woman and her child who hadn’t been tochurch in years made it to the first church. Everyone looked right past them as if they were looking for someoneelse; and seemed aggravated that she and her child needed assistance when they neededto be focused on welcoming an important guest. The family almost didn’t try to go to church again after thatexperience. But the next Sunday, they managed to get themselves together andarrived at the second church. That day,they were welcomed as important, honored guests—as though the church had beenwaiting just for them! Tamquam Christus…welcome every guest asif they were Christ.
Whenwe welcome Christ, we invite the “strange,” the mysterious, the new, theunknown. When we welcome Christ, weinvite change, challenge, and even danger. I cannot help but think of those faithful folks at Emanuel AME whowelcomed the young stranger into their circle for Bible study, the samestranger who indeed turned out to be an enemy as he shot and killed 9 of thosewho had so warmly welcomed him. Thechurch’s response to that racist crime was not to shut or bar their doors fromstrangers, but to vow that they would continue to be a place of faith,forgiveness, and Christian hospitality.
The potential danger weface isn’t only this kind of extreme, murderous violence. More often, when we welcome the stranger thedanger is that we will be treated with disdain or prejudice. There was a guy years ago who took issue withthe part of my welcome statement that includes “whatever you believe…” He didn’t want people who came with what heconsidered hateful, exclusive beliefs to be welcomed. As a counter to that, I am reminded of themoment, captured in a great photo, of Pastor Dawn offering Holy Communion tothe guy who was yelling hateful words to and about Foundry through a bullhorn. TamquamChristus…welcome every guest as if they were Christ.
Today in our Gospel, weencounter two of Jesus’ followers on Easter evening, probably on their way hometo the village of Emmaus, some 7 miles from Jerusalem. They have heard the story that Jesus isalive, but clearly don’t believe it. Heis murdered and gone and they are going home to try to forget Jesus and thegreat failure of his life. They were hopeless. And along comes this stranger… Asthey reached their homes and the stranger began to move on, the disciplesoffered him hospitality, they invited the stranger into their home and to theirtable. And as they sat down to eat, thismysterious traveler took bread, blessed it, broke it, and gave it to them. And all at once, they recognized who wassitting at their table. It was Jesus whohad been walking and talking with them. And as soon as they caught a glimpse of him, he was gone. What was left behind were strangely warmedhearts and encouraged disciples who were ready to get back on the journey toproclaim life and hope where before there had been only the story of death anddefeat.
Takingthe risk to welcome the strange, the mysterious, the difficult, the unknown,the stranger to our homes, our church, our table; sharing the sustenance of ourlives, seeking to be human with other humans, to be fellow travelers on theway…this is our calling. The xen, the “strange” or “guest” appearshere and there, now and then, to this one and that one. And when we welcome the stranger, we welcomeChrist. When we welcome Christ, we find ourselves in a position to have oureyes opened, our understanding adjusted, our hearts set afire, and our courseset for a new journey toward a life that is more full, more free, morestrange. And I would argue that’s a goodthing.
[i]Lucien Richard, O.M.I., Living theHospitality of God, New York: Paulist Press, p. 5-6.
[ii]Ibid., p. 6.
[iii] http://www.ibenedictines.org/2016/04/05/st-benedict-the-panama-papers-and-us/
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