WELCOMING THE STRANGER
OR, STRANGELY DIFFERENT

Scripture Reading: Matthew 10:40-42

Our gospel reading this morning captures the end of Jesus’ instructions and teachings for his disciples before he sends them off as missionaries to bring the good news of God’s love and grace to the world.

In previous weeks we have heard how Jesus was preparing the disciples for their mission. He told them how they will receive power and authority to preach and teach, to bring healing and wholeness to people who are ill in body or mind, and even to raise the dead. Jesus instructed his disciples to travel lightly, (a practice I’ve yet to learn). He told them how they are not to even carry provisions with them. But rather, they are to rely on the hospitality of strangers they encounter along the way. Those who welcomed the disciples would provide whatever they needed – housing, food, bath, even clean clothes.

Last week we heard how Jesus further prepared his disciples by telling them just how hard their mission would be. He cautioned them to expect resistance, opposition, and threats. He forewarned them that they may even be shunned by family and friends. And yet, in spite of the trials and tribulations, God would be by their side to sustain them throughout their life’s mission and journey and promise to bring them life eternal where they would enjoy life with God and all the company of heaven.

Today we encounter the end of this discourse as Jesus assures them that there will be people who will welcome them and thereby welcome the one who sent them, God. Jesus is talking about hospitality, but it is radical hospitality, different from the hospitality we may practice. Furthermore, Jesus promises that those who do practice this radical welcome will receive a reward from God.

Hear these words from Matthew’s gospel:

“Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. Whoever welcomes a prophet in the name of a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward; and whoever welcomes a righteous person in the name of a righteous person will receive the reward of the righteous; and whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple – truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward.”

In a delightful PEANUTS cartoon strip, Lucy says, “Guess what…If you don’t tell me that you love me, you know what I’m going to do? I’m going to hold my breath until I pass out!” Looking up from his piano Schroeder informs her, “Breath-holding in children is an interesting phenomenon…It could indicate a metabolic disorder…A forty milligram dose of Vitamin B6 twice a day might be helpful…I think that’s probably it…You need B6…you also might consider eating more bananas, avocados and beef liver…” As Schroeder goes back to his piano, Lucy sighs, “I ask for love, and all I get is beef liver!”

It’s not easy to open ourselves to others, to welcome them into our hearts and lives. And yet Jesus calls us to practice radical welcome.

There are so many stories about hospitality in scripture – in both the Old and New Testaments alike. And, in Matthew’s gospel alone, the word “welcome” appears six times. Welcome. It’s a word that appears often in every culture around the world. We see in posted on doorways to restaurants and businesses. We see the word “welcome” appear at entry points into countries, states and local communities. We “welcome” guests and visitors to gatherings and events. And we greet one another with a word of “welcome” as people visit our homes. Each Sunday we extend a word of welcome to one another in worship. And yet I wonder sometimes how “welcoming” we truly are to those who are “strangers to us” and especially those who are strangely different from us.

David Watson who teaches at United Theological Seminary has observed that “in modern Western culture, hospitality is usually reserved for family and friends.” We welcome family and friends into our homes and into our lives. We share together as we dine at our tables. We welcome family and friends to share in daily life together whether at work or at play. We welcome them into our circles of fellowship and into our circles of care, offering whatever is needed. And whatever is needful in any given circumstance, we welcomingly provide for family and friends.

And yet, “in the ancient Mediterranean world, hospitality was something one extended to strangers. Normally, the guest became incorporated into the home of the host to considerable extent.” (David Watson) Whatever the stranger was in need of, the host was obliged to provide – be it food, shelter, clothing, meaningful work or even need of protection from one’s enemies. It was the stranger who the host welcomed into his home and his life without always counting the cost to one’s self or one’s family. Furthermore, whoever welcomed one into one’s home, welcomed who they were, the values they held and their associations. To welcome the stranger meant giving a sign of welcoming all that they stood for. “To put the matter differently, to take in a Christian, and especially a Christian missionary, would be to show assent to Christian beliefs, values and practices.” (David Watson) “Even minor acts of hospitality (such as giving one a cup of cold water) would signal association with the guest. Because Christians were widely looked down upon and mistrusted, showing hospitality to a Christian was no small matter. Consequences may have included loss of honor, ostracism, and loss of financial opportunities.” (David Watson)

How many of us would be open to this notion of hospitality, especially if we knew that such consequences might prevail? Is that what we think of when we offer to host others in our home?

I dare say that when many of us think of what’s required for being a good host or hostess, we think of what is needful to entertain others well – a clean and well-appointed house, a beautifully set table, exquisitely prepared food, nice music and good conversation. And, no doubt, many of us are great hosts and hostesses to those who we welcome into our homes. Yet, as Karen Mains suggests, there’s a difference between hospitality and entertaining.

“Entertaining says, ‘I want to impress you with my home, my clever decorating, and my cooking.’ Hospitality, seeking to minister says, ‘This home is a gift from (God). I use it as (God) desires.’ Hospitality aims to serve.”

“Entertaining puts things before people. ‘As soon as I get this house finished, the living room decorated, my house cleaning done – then I will start inviting people.’ Hospitality puts people and their needs first. ‘No furniture – we’ll eat on the floor! The decorating may never get done – you come anyway. The house is a mess – but you are friends – come home with us.’”

“Entertaining subtly declares, ‘This home is mine, an expression of my personality. Look, please and admire.’ Hospitality whispers, ‘What is mine is yours.’” (Karen Mains) The Hispanic community has a saying for this kind of hospitality, “Mi casa es su casa,” “My house is your house.”

You and I tend to offer hospitality to a limited number of people in limited ways. But in ancient Israel, hospitality was extended to whomever needed it, in whatever way was necessary – strangers and acquaintances alike. In fact, in its original form, the word hospitality is a combination of two separate words – one meaning friend and the other meaning stranger. So, from the beginning of its usage, hospitality has carried with it the idea of making friends out of strangers, welcoming the unknown into our known worlds and seeing our very lives transformed by so doing.

There’s a wonderful independent film that was released this year called The Visitor. The story is about a middle-aged widower named Walter, who teaches economics a college in Connecticut. Walter has lost his passion for teaching and his passion for life.

He’s withdrawn from campus life and life in general. In a desperate attempt to stay connected with his wife, who was a concert pianist, Walter tries to learn to play the piano. But even here he finds no joy or meaning. Walter falls into deep depression.

One day Walter is asked by his college to share a paper he co-wrote at a conference in New York City. Walter still has an apartment in the city which he hasn’t visited in years. When he does so, he is surprised to find a young couple living there. Tarek is from Syria and his girlfriend Zainab is from Senegal. The couple rented the apartment from a real estate scammer. When they find out it belongs to Walter, they are shocked and horrified, and hurriedly pack their belongings to leave. Yet with no prospects of where they will go or be able to stay, Walter invites them to continue to stay with him for a while.

This young couple and Walter come from completely different worlds – they have different cultures, different tastes, different histories and they speak different languages. Yet, in spite of all that is strangely different about them, these strangers become friends.

Tarek, a drummer who performs at various jazz clubs and in drumming circles in Central Park, welcomes Walter into his world of African drumming. Walter welcomes Tarek into his world, a world of filled with the classics – classical literature, art, music and study. But it is their mutual love of music that draws them together. Tarek begins teaching Walter African drumming – a key that unlocks Walter’s heart. Walter slowly emerges from the depths of grief and depression and discovers his passion for life again.

No sooner have Tarek and Zainab been welcomed into Walter’s life, when Walter quite unexpectedly and suddenly learns that both of them are in the country illegally. Tarek is arrested on a different charge and is held in a detention center. He faces possible deportation.

Through a series of events, Walter is introduced to Tarek’s mother who discloses that she fled from Syria to the U.S. after her journalist husband had been killed. Once again Walter welcomes another stranger into his life and a new relationship unfolds.

Now he faces a new challenge of helping out these strangers who have become his friends, as he works to help them stay in this country legally and dedicates his time, energy, resources, and reputation to making it possible for another to be welcomed into life here.

Walter’s life has been forever changed and transformed for the better by welcoming this young couple into his home and his life. His hospitality has given him new life. And these strangers who have become friends have found possibilities for new life.

In this story, we find a vision for what Jesus meant when he said those who welcome me, welcome the one who sent me. Jesus’ vision of hospitality is good news. It is as our friend William Sloan Coffin has said, “The Gospel has always been good news to those who were excluded, who were left out, cut off and forgotten. It is a word of welcome to those who are (strangers) and those who are (strangely) different.”

Are we ready to practice such radical hospitality in our homes, in our church? We say we are a church of The Open Door, but how open are we to receive the stranger or the strangely different? Are we willing to open our arms, our lives, to openly share our resources to welcome the stranger and the strangely different?

In her book Broken We Kneel, Diana Butler Bass describes the Church of the Epiphany in Washington, D.C. The 8:00 service each Sunday is geared toward the homeless, and in that crowd of 200 worshipers you will find a woman talking loudly to her invisible friend, several men sleeping on back pews, and some people standing and singing the hymns. This is “an amazing cross section of humanity for a church,” writes Butler Bass, “unruly, disorderly and utterly hospitable. And holy.” A church member who first came to the church when she was homeless once said to Butler Bass, “Epiphany is the first church I ever visited that treated me like a human being. Nobody looked at me as if I was going to steal something.”

What a truly hospitable, stranger-welcoming, InnoCentive Church. I think God is always challenging us to practice radical hospitality in our churches, in our homes, in our places of work and leisure. If we welcome the stranger and the strangely different, we welcome God and the gifts we receive will bless us in ways we could not predict nor expect.

Let us pray: Gracious and Hospitable God, open us to you – to listen for your voice, to receive you into our hearts, our minds, our lives. Open us to welcome you into our homes, at our tables, into our fellowship, regardless of how you show yourself to us and no matter what the need may be. Let us be the ones who welcome you with open arms. Amen.

Sermon preached by Reverend Jane B. Anderson at First Congregational United Church of Christ, Appleton, Wisconsin on June 29, 2008.