Readings: Jeremiah 2.4-13
Hebrews 13.1-8,15-16
Luke 14.1,7-14
Show hospitality to strangers, for by doing so, some have entertained angels without knowing it. Earlier in the summer I watched a film called Ushpizin. Anyone..? It’s an Israeli film with subtitles about a couple who are orthodox Jews living in a Hassidic community in Jerusalem. I could understand that it might not have been on the top of everyone’s must-watch list, but it was a sweet little film featuring a man struggling to live by his faith with no money and a wife who desperately wanted a child.
It centres on the Jewish festival of shelters, a time when people move out of their homes into temporary shelters or Sukkahs. Moshi, our hero, could see no way of providing either a shelter or the necessary food and wine for celebration.
It’s fascinating isn’t it, when you realise that there are whole worlds out there that you didn’t know the first thing about. I checked out Sukkahs on the internet at Sukkahmart.com and they do indeed cost quite a bit. Entry level is about £200 and you can pay a lot more.
But suddenly, just when he needed a miracle, Moshi got two in the shape of an anonymous gift of money and a lovely shelter, albeit of slightly dodgy provenance.
Was it a sign that his faith was coming good? Was there a child on the way too?
Well, no, and by this time it had become clear that there was something in Moshi’s past that he wasn’t telling.
Two men turned up at his door, two “old friends.” Obliged by his faith to welcome them, he assures his wife that they are probably the angels that our Hebrews text speaks of. But the friends, who happen to have skipped parole, realise they are on to something and gradually take more and more advantage of Moshi’s hospitality until they finally outrage the community and drive his wife away with, well, some seriously disrespectful behaviour.
Happily it all comes good in the end, but it did make me think that entertaining angels could have some unexpected risks and spin-offs.
Actually, entertaining Jesus appears to have had some unexpected moments as well, doesn’t it? Am I alone in feeling a bit sorry for this Pharisee who had taken the trouble to invite an itinerant preacher for Sunday lunch, then found his guests were all being told to sit somewhere else. I mean, can’t you even make your own seating plan in your own house? And having smoothed the ruffled feathers that must have caused, he finds himself being told that he should have invited different people entirely.
I jest, of course, because I really don’t think that this story can simply be regarded as Jesus’ guide to dinner party etiquette. Or even an instruction to stick to self-deprecating behaviour. It would get a bit tiresome wouldn’t it, if we were all forever after you-ing. No, no, after you, no I insist…
This is surely more about a realistic self-image before God and who we associate ourselves with and why. A reflection on humility and hospitality if you like. So, let’s reflect.
Humility, humus, the compost variety, not the sort you make with chickpeas, is to do with the earth. By the way, did you see those people on Gardener’s World the other night raving about compost? It clearly gets some folk excited. I guess the humble person is in a sense, one who is happy to be part of the earth, part of creation, a piece of God’s compost if you like, without inflated views of being somehow above it all or deserving special treatment in any way. It doesn’t mean we don’t live life to the full, seeking to achieve our full potential – trying to bear the fruits of the spirit springs to mind in the context of this rather over-extended gardening analogy. We just don’t get pretentious about it.
Hospitality is a trickier word to pin down. Certainly something to do with strangers, maybe friendliness towards them, perhaps it’s more about equalising power between host and guest – I don’t pretend to be any sort of language scholar, but I like this last idea. As host you are taking the lead – it’s not what we tend to think of as a humble act, to extend hospitality. But it is if we can equalise the power, as it were. It’s an interesting little test – can we be at once hospitable and humble, whoever we are with? Neither obsequious to those we may be tempted to try to impress, nor patronising nor condescending to folk we’re not inclined to have much time for.
But maybe I’m making this all too comfortable. The verse I started with is an imperative – do not neglect to show hospitality. It goes on to speak of prisoners and victims of torture. This is not oiling the wheels of society, valuable though that may be. This is about being prepared to make serious room in our lives for people who appear to offer little in return. I quote from a book called Making Room (Christine Pohl)
Christian hospitality has always been a subversive, counter-cultural practice. It has always involved people (both guest and host) who live at the margins of society. Befriending a stranger requires an element of risk that some find difficult to take. It is risky to invite someone whom you do not know into your home or even into your congregation. Society points out the dangers of welcoming strangers, and crime statistics strike fear into the hearts of most of us. But balanced against the risk (which is also present for the guest), is the opportunity for joy, friendship, and experiencing the holy.
I guess we all have a different capacity for befriending strangers but it is all too easy jealously to restrict our allocation of our precious time exclusively to friends and family. Not a bad thing in itself but Jesus reminds us to look beyond. He gave all of himself for the world, prompting us, perhaps to think how we too may give a little of ourselves.
Humility doesn’t mean we always take a back seat – it’s good to do what we can to the best of our God-given abilities. In particular it’s good to show hospitality whenever we can. The angels may be a little unruly sometimes, but with God’s help, we ought to be able to cope with that.