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| Brno, Czech Republic |
C Lectionary 22 – September 1, 2013
Text: Hebrews 13:1-8, 15-16
Our Redeemer Lutheran Church, Grand Prairie, Texas
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May grace be yours, from God our
Father, and the Lord, Jesus Christ. Amen.
Today, we finish up in the book of
Hebrews, and in today’s reading, we are near the end of that letter, in chapter
13. Like Galatians and Colossians, as well as other letters, Hebrews ends with
some words of exhortation for its readers. Kind of like a person leaving a note
for the house-sitter for while they’ll be out of town: please remember to turn
off the dryer before you leave the house; please feed the dog in the morning
and at night; please water the plants twice a week.
And so, before wrapping up his
letter (or sermon), the author of Hebrews has a few final things to say, and he
begins with one over-arching appeal: “Let mutual love continue.”[1]
And what’s the first thing on his list for mutual love? “Do not neglect to show
hospitality to strangers, for by doing that, some have entertained angels
without knowing it.”[2]
True to form, the author is
referring here to at least one story from the Old Testament – the story of
Abraham and Sarah entertaining angels in Genesis 18. There they are, Abraham
and Sarah, in their tent, finding some shade there in the heat of the day, when
three strangers show up. Offering basic hospitality to strangers is expected in
this culture, and so Abraham does that – offering water to wash the dust off
their feet, shade to cool off in, and bread to eat.
Little do they know, upon opening
those tent flaps and looking out, that they are really entertaining angels –
actual angels. Not angels like we might think of them – with wings and harps –
but angels in the true meaning of the word, “angel,” which is, “messenger.” And
the message they carry from God is a big one – so big, in fact, that Sarah
laughs when she first hears it – for these strangers bring the good news that
after many years of waiting and growing older, Sarah will soon be pregnant with
their first child.
And so – with one simple dinner
party with a few angels – Abraham and Sarah are on to the next part of their
relationship with God. They’ve been waiting for so long for God to fulfill his
promise to them that their descendants would be greater than the number of stars
in the sky. These strangers have now changed their lives – and changed the
world – forever.
Hospitality, then, has consequences
we can’t always see right away. It’s a risk, after all, to be hospitable. The
author of Hebrews knows that just as well as anyone else – but, he says, out of
mutual love, be hospitable, anyway.
About twenty years ago, I was
serving as a missionary in Eastern Europe. We had spent about a month in
Russia, and then we traveled west to the Czech Republic to spend several weeks
there. We hooked up with different contacts at various points on our trip, and
in the city of Brno (in the Czech Republic), our main contact person’s name was
Andrew. He served as translator and guide during our time there.
One day – I don’t remember why –
several of us were out and about and we were supposed to meet Andrew at his
home. We found the address easily enough but he wasn’t home, so we waited out
front for him. While we waited, his neighbor came home – an older lady, short,
but with a formidable spirit and a sturdy cane.
She started yelling at us in Czech,
which, of course, none of us spoke. We tried gesticulating, but she raised her
cane in response and yelled louder. We went around our group of three, trying
to figure out what language one of us might speak that she might also speak.
Finally, I tried out my public high school French – “Parlez vous Français?” I
asked.
“Oui, oui!” she responded, calming
down.
My mind raced, trying to remember
words that might apply to this particular situation (which, by the way, is not
a scenario we ever talked about in
high school)…” C'est le chez de mon ami, André,” I said, slowly and poorly,
while pointing toward the house (“It is the home of my friend, Andrew”).
“AH! AH! André!” she began to yell,
now excited. Her tone changed completely as she began speaking in French way
too fast for me to follow – the important thing was, we were no longer in
danger of having her call the police or beat us with her cane.
And then, the most extraordinary
thing happened. This was January. It was cold. She began to gesture toward her
own home, right next door, obviously wanting us to come inside with her. And so
we did. And this older, formidable woman with the sturdy cane insisted on
serving us coffee and snacks, as we sat in her kitchen, surrounded by her
collection of crucifixes hanging on the wall.
Clearly, this was a woman who knew
Jesus.
And beyond knowing Jesus, this was
a woman who knew how to entertain strangers, too. I don’t know what message we
brought her that day – maybe she was lonely and just wanted some companionship.
Maybe she was nosy and wanted to know more about who Andrew was hanging around
with. But – this I do know – by the time we left her house (after Andrew
eventually found us), there was a sense of mutual love – love shared as
brothers and sisters in Christ. It took some time and some effort to get to
that point, but then again, most expressions of love do take time and effort!
We never know who it is we are
welcoming into our midst. I’m not saying we shouldn’t be discerning – we have
to be. But I invite us to think about hospitality beyond simply making sure the
coffee is made and the cookies are set out. I invite us to consider that
hospitality is graced by mutual love of some kind – if not love that we feel
for each other, then at least a sharing of the love that God has for this other
person. And when we begin to think of hospitality as a way of offering love to
someone else, we begin to realize that we, too, are given grace. We, too, are
given love.
“Now may the God of peace…make you
complete in everything good so that you may do his will, working among us that
which is pleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ, to whom be the glory
forever and ever. Amen.”[3]
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