Mass readings for the 16th Sunday in Ordinary Time:
Genesis 18.1-10a Psalm 15.1-5 Colossians 1.24-28 Luke 10.38-42
The scriptures today speak to us about hospitality. Abraham hosts God in his camp; Mary and Marth, the sisters of Lazarus open their home to Jesus and his disciples. As a Christian community, hospitality has always been central to who we are, but I would hope it is clear from what we have heard proclaimed, it is not all who we are. We are not the people of hospitality, but rather we are the people of the Gospel; and hospitality is but one facet of our lives offered to God, but it must come under the larger umbrella of our mandate to go forth proclaiming the Gospel and baptizing in the name of the Trinity.
It is interesting that hospitality is seen as a moral marker, an indicator of character; to be a good and welcoming host is praiseworthy – the gracious, attentive and generous host is judged to be a good person. That’s a cultural thing, and our particular understanding of what hospitality is, what it should look like, what people ought to experience, is largely shaped by the biblical culture we inherited through Christianity; and that is the culture from those parts of the world we refer to as the Near and the Middle East – the region that starts from the eastern shore of the Mediterranean and extends across Mesopotamia, through Persia to the Indus Valley where, at least in the imagination of Europeans, the exotic, even mysterious “Far East” begins.
It’s not that other cultures, other societies are inhospitable, but that there is a particular emphasis on this aspect of social relations within the nations, tribes, empires that arose in these parts of the world. Hospitality is a litmus test of one’s character among them, such that the rules governing it are rather involved, intricate, and they afford privileges even to an enemy who visits one’s encampment.
Now, some of this likely arises from the early development of what we might call an “international economy” that is, this part of the world began to trade at great distances earlier than others, and as a result an ethos of mutual hospitality arose among those who began to make caravans transporting goods from cities like Abraham’s hometown of Ur to distant Egypt or traveled to Afghanistan in search of rare lapus lazuli; all of this journeying across vast stretches of inhospitable wilderness. You might not care for the religion, cultural practices or politics of a group you meet in the middle of nowhere, but they may have water, and you’ve got food, so you quickly figure out it’s best to share a meal and hash out a deal that benefits you both, and to take pains not to offend, but rather demonstrate your good intentions. You learn to guard your words, risk no offense and see that the evening around the campfire or the table is pleasant. By combining your camps, you are that much safer from any predatory bandits who might be skulking about in the dark.
Over millennia, as human population grew and those vast swathes of wilderness became dotted with settlements, the peoples that once traversed these vast spaces stop moving around so much, but the conditioning of centuries had made its imprint, and hospitality remained the test and indicator of a person’s character. It was common in the mythology of these peoples, the belief that one may entertain a god or an angel without knowing it. Such was the importance of hospitality offered according to the conventions I just described.
Now in contrast to this, one can consider the hospitality customs of northern European barbarians or the nomads of the Asiatic steppes. To put it bluntly, where in the tent of Abraham or any of his peers, there was an understanding that one was safe; at a social gathering deep in the German forests, once the drinking began, the risk of serious injury and even death would also begin to grow. A student of history will know that ambushing an enemy as he came to dinner, or even as he sat down to the supper to which he’d been invited, was not without plentiful precedent. My ancestors really were barbaric.
So, we really need to give poor Martha her proper due, and recognize how confusing it must have been for her to have Jesus, instead of backing her up and rebuking Mary for not being that fussing, attentive hostess, clearing away the dishes, fluffing up the cushions, she stayed with Jesus and his disciples, listening to the discussion, his teaching, and simply enjoying his presence.
So, Jesus clarifies for us the place of hospitality in our ministry: it is to facilitate encounter with Him.
And if we think about the hospitality that Jesus has shown, the famous feeding miracles; he teaches, preaches, perhaps does some Q&A, and it is only afterwards that he addresses the need for food. It’s not as if he wouldn’t be aware that people needed to eat; and he is concerned about that. It’s just that the spiritual feeding has priority.
Now, in our present moment in history, I’d have to say that with the waning of Christian sensibilities, so too has this culture of hospitality been disappearing.
It’s interesting how hospitality is still an espoused value. I don’t know that many people actually exercise it as we once did as a society. Again, don’t put this down to COVID: social gathering was already on the wane. That was in no small way the result of people no longer living in organic community, but out in suburbia or overdense urban housing where the design of housing, streets, social spaces, do little to encourage the creation of neighbourhoods.
Decline in religious practice, community organizations, sporting associations is now endemic. I know that we still have things such as amateur hockey associations, but it is noted that most are only involved as long as they have a kid of their own involved. Once junior no longer plays, that tie to the wider community is severed. Fewer and fewer see themselves as having a duty to their community to run such organizations without direct benefit to themselves.
It was charming, a few weeks ago, to be in the driving park and to see the efforts of the lawn bowling club to get people involved. I salute them, I encourage them, but I can’t help but notice that those involved are people for whom this kind of thing is only natural, the thing one does when you live in a community: you join things. Sadly, younger generations have no notion as to what this is about – they don’t get that at heart, it’s not about rolling wobbly balls over grass, it’s about creating community. And even if they do know that’s what it’s about, they simply don’t value it enough to join. And sure, maybe lawn bowling’s a little to slow for a thirtysomething, or they haven’t “anything for the kids” in the clubhouse. But they aren’t joining anything else.
We know that for most people, the locus of most of their social lives is the workplace and that is not always optimal: how comfortable are we socializing with our bosses? How can we separate the partying with the people we work with from our 9 to 5 life and truly relax? Home then becomes the last refuge. And that’s where a lot of people escape to, cocoon in their off hours and not come out until morning.
The other damning indicator of our sad degeneration is the development of the “hospitality industry” – a counterfeit to what we really need. Now, again, I quite respect hotel and restaurant workers, but pay attention to how they market themselves these days, how they advertise, the “good times” you’ll have with them as their staff, for a healthy mark up on the mediocre food, will ensure that you feel welcomed, even loved, and kept busy with complimentary bread sticks. It’s a substitute, not the real thing. But then, once the check is paid, you don’t have to continue the pretense of community, you don’t need to remember your server’s name, or know anything about the cook staff or the busboys. You won’t be sending them Christmas cards.
So, in light of that, I understand the impulse among the churches to lead with hospitality, host the community suppers, the euchre tournaments, and so on, all with the implicit commitment that they won’t offend by mentioning our Lord and Saviour.
That’s not the answer.
As with Abraham, we should be most gracious and generous hosts, and assume that among those we invite to join us, in fellowship, in study, in worship, that perhaps among them, there is an angel or two; but our efforts must not keep us from our attention to our Lord. By acknowledging Him among us, by inviting Him to be present, to speak and to teach, we are then, not only choosing the better part, but we are showing others this better part too.
It will be in their encounter with Jesus that their lives will be changed; but they need to know His name, hear what he has to say, know to whom they have given their time and attention.
And as I said last week, when I reflected on the way Jesus spoke with the sceptical, the jaded who have been too often disappointed: we can’t compel belief, we can’t make someone believe that a life lived in a community of love and service in communion with God is really what they need. We simply need to be authentically, and unapologetically who we are, the body of Christ in the world, His church, His disciples, and let the Holy Spirit then do its work, let the Good Shepherd gather us all in to sit at his feet and learn.
Amen.