July 18 - Genesis 18:1-10a & Luke 10:38-42

by Vicar Brett Wilson - 8th Sunday after Pentecost – Genesis 18:1-10a & Luke 10:38-42 (check out the texts before reading the sermon)

What does it mean to show good hospitality? Hospitality is a hard thing. I am certainly not perfect at it, and maybe you can relate. I don't always want to answer my phone when I see it's an area code I don't recognize. I'll admit it, sometimes I even actively avoid people, though I know it's terrible. Maybe in your family or friends there's someone everyone avoids because they know even talking to that person will mean having them for dinner, lending them your car, time you can't spare, or “just a little” money. I like having people over for dinner, but even that hospitality can be hard sometimes – so many things could go wrong! On the surface, these readings for today from Genesis and Luke seem to send confusing messages about what is good hospitality. Are we supposed to be busy, anxious hosts that make sure everything's perfect, or instead care only about enjoying the company of our guest?
In Genesis Abraham practically falls over himself to rush to be hospitable to his guests. Even though no one calls him on it, Abraham seems to be rushing around to prepare with the same anxious energy as Martha. Perhaps if Abraham had sat with his guests and talked with them a little more he wouldn't have been so surprised at the promise that they gave him. Because remember, in the next verses just after our passage ends, the visitors have promised them a son, but Sarah laughs in disbelief, and God has to repeat it to disbelieving Abraham.
Abraham's guests are a little mysterious – God is present there, somehow in or among these three “men” that come to visit. They aren't called angels or anything like that, but their identity is mysterious.
Mary and Martha have it a little clearer when it comes to their dinner guest. Jesus is over for dinner, and we get the idea from tradition that they're both good friends and supporters of Jesus. But I want you to think about – what would you do if Jesus came to dinner at your house. It seems like a pretty silly question, doesn't it – but imagine it for a moment. If Jesus called on the phone to come over for dinner, what would you think? What would you do?
What if Jesus came to dinner at your house?
I used to work at a Lutheran summer camp where we as the staff often did this skit for the kids called “Jesus is coming to dinner.” In this skit a regular, modern person gets a call on her cell phone and – it's Jesus! And much to the her surprise, Jesus invites himself over to her house for dinner that very night. So she goes about preparing, anxiously fretting about what one possibly could fix for Jesus for dinner, when there is a knock at the door. She thinks, hmm, that wasn't very much warning, but opens the door to find not Jesus, but an annoying camper who has a huge stick caught in his hair and about 5,000 questions and worries. She begrudgingly lets him in and listens to him, gets the stick out, but her anxiety builds that she won't be ready for Jesus' arrival. Then, just as she finally tears herself away to get dinner started, there's another knock at the door, and it's a lost hiker looking for a drink of water and a place to nap. She gets more and more annoyed and anxious, but lets him in. Then, a third knock, and she's sure now it's Jesus and answers the door almost in tears that dinner isn't ready. But yet again it's not Jesus but some annoying stranger who needs something from her. Now in a chaotic house with three strangers, her cell phone rings again. She answers nervously, and when Jesus responds, she tries to ask him when he'll arrive for dinner, so she can get these crazy people out of her house and have it perfect for him. Jesus responds sounding confused - “What do you mean?” “Well, I thought you were coming for dinner...” Jesus laughs and replies “I did come, thanks for having me over. I came in the form of all those people, and you welcomed me. Remember I'm always with you, even when I come in a form that you don't expect.”
As silly and cheesy as this skit may be, I think it holds the real truth of God's action in the scriptures this morning. It gets us past worrying about our own behavior. The faith that we proclaim has to be more than that. The gospel isn't about what we do, it's about what God does. We aren't perfect and we aren't ever going to be a perfect balance of Mary and Martha. This silly skit gets to the point of what God does in your life here for you right now, today. No matter how we may handle it or respond, Jesus comes to you. It doesn't matter what you may have for dinner or if you can prepare your finest spread like Abraham did or manage to focus and listen like Mary, but Jesus comes. Jesus is present with you today. Jesus makes himself at home, in your home, everyday, even in unexpected ways.
It's important that these stories from Genesis and Luke both happen around meals. For us as humans, it seems like a universal thing that a meal isn't just where we fill our stomachs, but time shared together, something deeper. It always matters who you eat with – from school lunchrooms, to breakrooms at work, to your family table. But no matter where or with whom you eat, you do not share meals alone – God is present in your life and acts to remind you of God's love, and this promise is sealed – in a meal. These stories today witness that God comes to us in one of the most common, understandable ways we have, just having lunch. Jesus and his disciples are always sharing meals, and God and Jesus often share meals to show that there are no divisions, welcoming all people to the table. Jesus often used meals as a way to break barriers, including this one with Mary and Martha. In both these stories of meals in scripture, God uses the setting of a meal for some teaching and a promise. This is the same thing that we receive today with this meal – teaching and a promise. In this communion meal, God's promise is sure. God's presence is here, the new covenant with you, the new promise, for the forgiveness of sins. Jesus our savior died and left you not alone but with these promises, sealed because of his complete action, for you, once and for all.
For Lutherans, communion is a sacrament, and a sacrament means that in the end, however we respond, whether we are like Abraham or Sarah, Mary, or Martha, it's not about you getting to God, God comes down to you. Jesus is present here – this after all, is Christ's own body and blood, given for you. It is no different than Christ's true presence with Mary and Martha that day, and God's presence with Abraham. This has something to teach you – that from the reality of this meal you experience Christ's hospitality. Christ invites you to his table, at which “he offers [you] all the treasures he brought from heaven for [you], to which he most graciously invites us into other places, as when he says, 'Come to me, all you that are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.'” This is Christ's hospitality and it is for all people, free gift of God's grace for you. This is the hospitality you enjoy each time you come to communion, each time you remember the grace in your baptism. These promises and the presence of God are what you take with you and proclaim your whole life long. In this meal, in the forgiveness of sins, in our faith, it means that our hospitality may not be perfect, but we are blessed to share Christ's hospitality. The Holy Spirit empowers you to share Christ's hospitality with the world – you're already doing it with the community meal – there is Christ's hospitality for all people. In the way you have welcomed me, there is Christ's hospitality. You are blessed to share Christ's hospitality in ordinary, little ways. And though Christ's hospitality may start at this table, it is not confined to the church – it happens in homes, around tables, in everyday conversations. Christ's hospitality may even catch you when you need it in an unexpected way. These scriptures, this meal with Christ, is not about choosing to behave like Mary or Martha. This table is where Christ's hospitality shapes you, and God chooses you. Amen.