A Sermon by Fr. Davenport, 29 August 2004.
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Pentecost XIII, Proper 17, Year C

Ecclesiasticus 10:7-18
Hebrews 13:1-8
Luke 14:1,7-14

Dearly Beloved: Let brotherly love continue. Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.


+ In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

The Post's food section last week had an article in which restauranteurs told stories about their more socially challenged customers. (1) One guy wanted to bring a party of 30 to a smallish restaurant, and its party room had seating for only 16. "So he made reservations under three different names and then, when the whole group wouldn't fit, he went around [to other tables trying] to get other customers to move." (2) The guy's got brass.

There was, of course, a story about clergy. In the private, glassed-in dining room at an upscale restaurant not far from here, a group of well-lubricated clergy got up on their chairs and started singing hymns. This, however, did not upset the other customers. It charmed them. Who is so frigid and tormented as not to be filled with sentiment at a raucous and slurred 'Salve Regina' by feasting priests? That's evangelism. That's also the mass: a celebratory meal with hymns praising God.

The headliner was a couple who had ordered a steak and a lobster dish and then got into a terrible fight. The woman left in tears just before the food arrived. The man paid the check and quickly left, abandoning two lovely meals. "As the waiters watch, a woman at nearby table reaches over and stabs the steak with her fork and brings it over to her plate. She eats the entire steak, but not before complaining to a waiter that it's too salty." (3) I'm in love with her. As my twelfth grade civics teacher would say, 'Baby, you get the Bella Abzug award for chutzpah!'

The first half of chapter 14 of S. Luke's gospel is also at a dinner party. A Pharisee has invited Jesus to his home for dinner. The Pharisee wants to suss him out. This makes perfect sense. The dining table is the place where people are usually most revealing. Certainly that was true with Jesus. It's at the dining table where Jesus promises the disciples that they will receive the Holy Spirit. It's at the dining table where Jesus gives his disciples his command: "love one another as I have loved you." It's at the dining table where the risen Christ reveals himself to his disciples. And most importantly it's at the dining table where the mass originates, the place where Christians continue to meet the risen Christ, the place where we receive strength and nourishment, the place where our lives are enriched.

In the scene from today's gospel we should identify with the Pharisee, the host, and imagine having invited Jesus over for a meal. Our attitudes are really a lot like the Pharisee's, and we should understand why he takes offense at Jesus. There's great irony in this scene. Jesus teaches about hospitality, but his behavior might well be considered rude. Jesus also has got some brass. He did at least three offensive things. First, Jesus healed a man afflicted with edema. Such a healing was not only probably poor manners for dining table, but also since it was the Sabbath, Jesus violated the Jewish law. To his contemporaries, he was polluting his host's home. But for Jesus, charity was always the greatest imperative, the superceding law. Christians sometimes forget that loving one another as Jesus loved us is always the priority.

Second, Jesus commented about how his fellow guests have chosen their seats at the dinner party. He ridiculed them for seeking the best seats, for being self-promoting, and he instructed them about good manners, about honorable behaviour. If you're the host, you'd be astounded and put out by the effrontery, the audacity of Jesus, who has rebuked you and your guests and made all of you uncomfortable. No doubt, Jesus is giving good advice. Don't exalt yourselves. Don't exert yourself over others. Be humble so you won't be humiliated.

Third, Jesus criticized his host about the choice of dinner guests. The host has invited friends and family, those socially equal or superior, those fashionable and interesting. These are people who will likely re-pay your generosity one way or another. Like most of us, the host has not invited the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind - people who were considered unclean, unfit for social contact, but also the very people S. Mary proclaims in the Magnificat that God will exalt and fill with good things. Jesus wants us to know that hospitality means not only serving and caring for our friends and acquaintances, but also for strangers.

Our Lord wants us to understand what true, godly hospitality is. The purpose of the host is to serve his guests. He needs to make his guests comfortable, to promote good cheer, to help foster friendships. He needs to be courteous, gracious, and generous - often in situations where it's hard to be magnanimous. A godly host does not seek something in return for his generosity. He's not putting others in his debt. He's opening up to others and giving of himself. There are no strings attached to real hospitality. Our motivations are sure to be pure if we invite those who have nothing to give back to us.

Consequently, from her earliest days, the Church has been committed to caring for the poor and the afflicted. Our concern is not merely to provide for them, but to be hosts to them, to sit at table with them. It's a way we show acceptance. Having a meal with someone builds fellowship and understanding and respect. That's what this parish does, in both places where we break bread together: in church and in the undercroft, at the mass and in fellowship after the mass, welcoming one another and, especially the stranger. "Let brotherly love continue. Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers." In other words, continue to love one another, but also remember to reach out to unknown people, people with whom you may have nothing in common.

Hospitality is more than friendliness. Generally our friends are people like us. They have similar backgrounds, similar concerns, similar values, similar lifestyles. We extend hospitality to all people, whether we have something in common with them or not, whether we like them or not. One of the great blessings and strengths of this parish is her diversity, the relative variety of lifestyles, and politics, and values, and backgrounds. I praise God for it all of the time. When we have relationships with a wide variety of people, we are less likely to be bigoted, less likely to think that we know it all. In this parish, we have variety, but we all have unity in Christ. We are made one in him. We all agree that he should rule our lives. In this way, Christ transcends all differences, and still he loves and embraces all people, especially the stranger.

The Bible again and again reminds us that God often comes to us as a stranger. Again, we heard it in Hebrews: Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares. The author refers to Abraham who hosted three strangers, three angels who represented the very presence of God. Abraham was hospitable to them. In the very next chapter of Genesis we read of the two angels who visited Sodom, and Lot was hospitable to them. Lot welcomed them into his home, gave them a feast, and tried to protect them from evil. God saved Lot from the destruction of Sodom because he was a good host, willing to sacrifice everything for his guests, but God destroyed the men of Sodom because they were inhospitable. God is present to us in that other person, in that stranger.

The world is usually inhospitable to God. "Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head." (Lk 9:58) From his birth Jesus knows how human beings, and sometimes Christians, will receive him. There's no room for him at the inn. He's the stranger, and his ways are not our ways.

Jesus says, "Come, O Blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me." To which we ask, "Lord, when saw we thee hungry, or thirsty, or a stranger?" And Jesus says, "Truly, I say unto you, that as ye did it unto the least, ye did it unto me." That is entertaining angels unawares. That's what God is trying to build in us.

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

1. Walter Nicholls and Candy Sagon, 'Stolen Steaks!,' The Washington Post, 25 Aug 2004, p. F1.

2. Ibid., John Wabeck.

3. Ibid., Carole Greenwood.


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© 2004 Lane John Davenport