This morning, I’d like to talk about hospitality. Now, I realize that, being the Fourth of July weekend, you might have been expecting a sermon on a patriotic theme, something like "freedom", or "sacrifice", or "the faith of our founding fathers". So, to connect my topic with the holiday, I’ll share a brief historical note. Did you realize that one of the causes of the American Revolution was the issue of hospitality? Involuntary hospitality, to be precise. When Thomas Jefferson drew up the Declaration of Independence on behalf of the thirteen colonies, he listed all their reasons for separating from the Great Britain. And among the twenty-seven causes he listed was this one: that King George had quartered armed troops among them. In other words, the colonists had been compelled to provide food and lodging for British soldiers in their own homes. As you can imagine, they found this intolerable. How would you like it if a couple of Redcoats showed up at your door, demanded supper, and then informed you that they’d be sleeping in your rec room for the next couple of months? That’s why, when the U.S. Constitution was written several years later, it included this guarantee, that "No soldier shall, in time of peace be quartered in any house, without the consent of the owner, nor in time of war, but in a manner to be prescribed by law."
By the way, what I just read is the third amendment to the Constitution. How many knew that was in the Bill of Rights? How many even knew it was in the Constitution? I didn’t. But isn’t it nice to know that if a Humvee pulls into your driveway, and a bunch of Marines pile out asking what’s for dinner, you can just tell them to move along?
Actually, one of the reasons I chose this topic was that, just as the third amendment is often overlooked when studying the Constitution, so the issue of hospitality is often overlooked when we study Christian discipleship. Think about it. If you were asked to identify which character traits a mature believer should possess, which character traits we should be striving to build into our lives, hospitality probably would not be high on the list. It seems like one of the less important, and perhaps even optional virtues, something akin to interior decorating, or flower arranging, or the art of making polite conversation. But that’s not how the Bible presents it. In both the Old and New Testaments, hospitality is seen as absolutely essential. For example, Paul identifies it as one of the basic qualifications for a pastor or an elder, a non-negotiable requirement for spiritual leadership.
"Since an overseer is entrusted with God’s work, he must be blameless--not overbearing, not quick-tempered, not given to drunkenness, not violent, not pursuing dishonest gain. Rather he must be hospitable, one who loves what is good, who is self-controlled, upright, holy and disciplined." – Titus 1:7-8
Christ even pointed to the practice of hospitality as evidence that we have come to know him as Savior, and a lack of hospitality as evidence that we haven’t. In Matthew twenty-five, as he describes the last judgment, he makes this rather startling statement:
"Then the King will say to those on his right, ’Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in . . . I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’
"Then he will say to those on his left, ’Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in . . . I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’ Then they will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life." – Matthew 25:34-35, 41-42, 45-46
In other words, hospitality – inviting into your home people who don’t normally belong there – is a sign of genuine faith. That’s kind of sobering, isn’t it? Especially if we’ve been neglecting it. And so, today we’re going to examine these questions: Why hospitality is so important; how this virtue is tied in to the core of the Christian message. What it is; what true hospitality consists of. And then how we can practice it; what can we do to grow in this area.
Let’s begin with a passage from Deuteronomy. The people of Israel are preparing to cross the Jordan river and enter the land of Canaan after forty years in the wilderness. Since they left Egypt a generation before, they’ve been led by one man, Moses. But Moses will not lead them into the promised land. God has told him that he will soon die and be replaced by Joshua. And so the book of Deuteronomy is Moses’ last will and testament; his final opportunity to communicate to them what’s really important.
"For the LORD your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great God, mighty and awesome, who shows no partiality and accepts no bribes. He defends the cause of the fatherless and the widow, and loves the alien, giving him food and clothing. And you are to love those who are aliens, for you yourselves were aliens in Egypt." – Deuteronomy 10:17-19
Now, in order to grasp the importance of hospitality in Biblical times, we have to realize how different life was in the ancient world. No one back then would have called themselves a "citizen" of Ohio, or a "citizen" of the United States, because the idea of citizenship, the idea of belonging to an abstract political entity like a nation or a state, just didn’t exist. Instead, your place in a society was based on kinship; by a whole web of blood ties and marriage relationships. Back then, you would identify yourself, not by your country, but by your family, and your clan, and your tribe. So whenever you traveled away from your homeland you were in a very uncertain position. You couldn’t necessarily expect that the laws of some other place would protect you. Why should they? Their laws are for their people. You’re a stranger. What right do you have to demand anything from them? And so foreigners and aliens were often mistreated, with little or no legal recourse. Think of the situation of many blacks in this country a century ago, and you’ll have some idea of what I’m talking about.
But in Israel, strangers and aliens were a protected class. God specifically instructed his people not to oppress them, not to exploit the foreigners in their midst. Scattered throughout the Old Testament, we find passages such as these:
"When an alien lives with you in your land, do not mistreat him. The alien living with you must be treated as one of your native-born. Love him as yourself, for you were aliens in Egypt. I am the LORD your God." – Leviticus 19:33-34
"When you reap the harvest of your land, do not reap to the very edges of your field or gather the gleanings of your harvest. Leave them for the poor and the alien. I am the LORD your God." – Leviticus 23:22
"Do not deprive the alien or the fatherless of justice, or take the cloak of the widow as a pledge. Remember that you were slaves in Egypt and the LORD your God redeemed you from there. That is why I command you to do this." – Deuteronomy 24:17-18
In these verses, we see a common thread. God is commanding the Israelites not to oppress or mistreat the alien; the person of non-Israelite descent. Such persons were not to be denied justice, or treated unequally before the law. Not only that, they were to be loved, and provided for, and their needs taken care of. Why? Because the Israelites themselves had been foreigners in Egypt; they themselves had been a persecuted minority. But the reason for the command goes deeper than that. It’s not merely that they remembered what it was like to be mistreated. It’s the fact that God had delivered them; that he reached out to them when they were strangers in Egypt, making them members of his own family. And that’s the point at which these Old Testament laws begin to have great significance for us.
You see, what’s at issue here is the character of God – what kind of God the Israelites served, and what kind of God we serve. And our God is one who reaches out to the alien and the stranger; who invites the one who doesn’t belong into his own family. We serve a God who not only tolerates the stranger, but who loves him, and welcomes him, and accepts him as one of his own children. Do you see where this is going? As followers of Christ, we are to reach out, and show hospitality to those who aren’t a part of our group – whether the group is a church, or a Sunday School class, or a Bible study, or even our own family – because that’s what God does. We are not to exclude them, or shun them, or ignore them. And it’s not sufficient merely to politely tolerate them. No, we are to intentionally seek them out; to make provision for them, and care for them, and consider their needs, just as if they were already a part of the group. We are to take the initiative to welcome newcomers and outsiders; we are to actively encourage them to join in.
Because that’s what God does. He makes the outsider a part of his family. That’s what God did for Israel in Egypt, and that’s what God did for us when we were separated from him.
"But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far away have been brought near through the blood of Christ. . . . Consequently, you are no longer foreigners and aliens, but fellow citizens with God’s people and members of God’s household." – Ephesians 2:13, 19
"Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God." – Ephesians 5:1-2
God came to us. He drew us in. He didn’t wait for us to seek him out. He didn’t expect us to make the first move. And it’s a good thing he didn’t, because if he had, none of us would have ever been saved. But instead, he sought us out. He called us. He made provision for us. And if we are his children, then we will do the same thing. Which means that the burden of making sure outsiders and newcomers are welcomed into our fellowship is on us, and not on them. It’s not their job to somehow muscle their way in. It’s our job to open the door and invite them in.
You know, it’s easy to forget what it feels like to be a stranger in a new place. After you’ve been around a few years, you become familiar with where everything is, and how everything works, and who to see about this, and who’s in charge of that, and you forget how intimidating it can be for a new person to try and figure out all that stuff. Take this building as an example. Many of you grew up in this church, and so you know its hallways, and staircases, and secret passageways, like the back of your hand. You know where the secretary’s office is, and where the bathrooms are. You know that in order to make your way from the West entrance to the vestibule, for instance, you have to go down the stairs, through the fellowship hall, past the furnace, up the back stairs, left through the East chapel, and then right at the end of the hall. Or, you could go up the stairs, straight ahead through the choir room, turn right past the bathrooms, down two steps, and then through the chapel. But someone trying to navigate through the building for the first time could well end up in the baptistry. Because, and I don’t know why, maybe someone can tell me, there is a door which leads directly from the choir room into the baptistry. Perhaps it’s in case one of the choir members feels a sudden need to be baptized. And if someone enters through the West door, and goes up the stairs, but instead of going straight through the choir room, makes a critical error in judgment and turns right past the organ room, they will end up walking onto the podium in the middle of the service.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I love this building. I love all its nooks and crannies. It has character, and I say that with a great deal of affection. But you can understand how, to a stranger, the layout of the rooms, and stairways, and corridors could seem somewhat convoluted and confusing. And so our job, when we see someone wandering around with a perplexed look on their face, is not to leave them to their own devices – in which case we may not see them again until we clean out the closets for the next rummage sale. Our job is to approach them, to very graciously say, "Can I help you?," and then to personally escort them to their destination, rather than just giving them directions.
But my larger point is that the difficulty of navigating through an unfamiliar building is nothing, compared to the challenge, for a new person, of navigating through an unfamiliar network of people and relationships. Anyone trying to do that will certainly feel like an "alien" and a "stranger" and an "outsider", unless we take the initiative to draw them in. Invite them over for dinner. Answer their questions. Befriend them. Introduce them to people. Make them feel welcomed, and wanted, and clued-in to what’s going on. What a difference that makes. If you think back, someone probably did that for you once. Now, you can do it for someone else.
And I don’t mean to imply that the only people we should show hospitality to are newcomers. 1 Peter 4:9 instructs us to "offer hospitality to one another," and Romans 12:13 says, "Share with God’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality." So both are important; reaching out to newcomers and also showing hospitality to one another. You know, I’ll bet there are people in this church, probably sitting right next to you, who could use some encouragement. It would just make their week if someone were to invite them over for dinner after church, or maybe call and invite them over this evening, for watermelon and popcorn. Just to talk, see how they’re doing, shoot the breeze for a while. Lend a sympathetic ear. It doesn’t take much. You just have to do it.
But it’s important not to confuse hospitality with entertaining. Entertaining is fine china, and cloth napkins, and a dessert that took three hours to prepare. Entertaining is having the carpet cleaned, and the lawn mowed, and the kids shuffled off to grandma’s house so they won’t spill anything on your guests. Hospitality, on the other hand, is inviting people into your life, just as you are. Hospitality is walking into the living room two steps ahead of your guests and kicking the toys behind the couch. Hospitality is sharing whatever you’re having, even if it’s just leftover meatloaf and microwave Tater-Tots. Hospitality is real life. And therefore, by necessity, hospitality is humble. Because if we open up our homes and our lives to people to minister to their needs, some of the messiness of our own lives is going to be exposed. And that’s OK. Hospitality has to come before pride. Not that there’s anything wrong with cleaning the house and putting a casserole in the oven, when you know that company is coming. That shows caring and respect also. But sometimes, you sense a need, or the opportunity for fellowship arises spontaneously, and you have to be prepared to invite folks over, regardless of what the house looks like. Because it’s not your house, or your furniture, or your culinary skills that people need most. It’s your friendship. Don’t let pride keep you from practicing hospitality.
Let me give you a suggestion. Once a month, or once every six weeks, or however often you can manage it, plan to invite someone home for dinner after church. Prepare some more food; set extra places at the table, and when you get to church, look around for someone new. After the service, go up to them, introduce yourselves and say, "We were hoping to meet someone that we could invite home for dinner today. Would you be able to join us?" That’s all. It’s very simple, but also very powerful. I guarantee that if families in the church will start to do this on a regular basis, we will see first-time visitors coming back, and eventually becoming members. Now, what if there are no visitors on the Sunday you’ve prepared? Or what if someone else gets to them first? Well, we don’t want any fights to break out over who gets to take home the newcomers. That would really defeat the purpose. So if that happens, or if they have other plans, then choose someone else; perhaps someone you don’t know very well, and invite them instead. Just keep asking until someone says "yes".
I’ll close with this verse from Hebrews: "Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some people have entertained angels without knowing it." (Hebrews 13:2) Now, there was an instance in the Old Testament when Abraham showed hospitality to some folks who turned out be angels. But I don’t think the author of Hebrews is saying we should expect the same thing to happen to us. What I think he’s saying that if we step out in faith and obey God in this area, we are going to be blessed in unexpected ways. If we practice hospitality, serving one another and reaching out to strangers, then God will be present in our homes, and we will see him do remarkable things. Why not try that? Why not decide, today, that you are going to open your home, and ask God to work? Who knows what wonderful and surprising things will come of it?
