Tuesday, June 28, 2011

You're Welcome!

Psalm 89: 1-4 p 475
1I will sing of your steadfast love, O LORD, forever; with my mouth I will proclaim your faithfulness to all generations.
2I declare that your steadfast love is established forever; your faithfulness is as firm as the heavens.
3You said, “I have made a covenant with my chosen one, I have sworn to my servant David:
4‘I will establish your descendants forever, and build your throne for all generations.’”





Matthew 10:40-42 p 791
40“Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.41Whoever 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;42and 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.”






Welcome. We see and hear that word a lot. On our doormats. On signs in our homes, usually hung up in the kitchen. Even at the store: “Welcome to Walmart”! We are told.
Some people have the spiritual gift of hospitality. They know how to welcome people, and they do it well. It does not mean that there are elaborate plans made, elaborate feasts prepared. It does not mean they act like Martha Stewart. But by careful observation, these gifted people know just how and what to say, what questions to ask, how much or little to leave a person alone. They read people well, and extend the right kind of hospitality to them.
Yale Divinity school professor Siobhan Garrigan tells a story from her travels around Ireland. Arriving at a Presbyterian church in Northern Ireland, she was greeted at the door by two women, church members, who seemed to invite her into conversation. After a moment, Dr Garrigan realized that these women were ushers of some sort, whose job it was to stand at the door and interview newcomers as they arrived. They quietly asked her name and the first name of any other approaching strangers who wished to join in the morning worship.
Then Dr Garrigan figured out what was going on. Hearing the first names, the ushers would draw conclusions about the cultural and religious identity of each. Those with Protestant names were welcomed warmly and shown their seats. Those with apparently Catholic names, like Maria, or Patrick or Catherine, were told that they were surely in the wrong church and sent on their way.
Surely, that was a long time ago, we might think. But Dr Garrigan assures us it is current practice still today. Surely, we think, that happens over there, in Northern Ireland, but not here. Here—here we are welcoming, here we are hospitable. We are not like that here, are we?
In her book Amazing Grace, Kathleen Norris tells the story of the opposite side of hospitality: a nun who, although she has Alzheimer's, still asks, every day, to be rolled in her wheelchair to the door of her nursing home so she can greet every guest. Said one nun of her sister in ministry, "She is no longer certain what she is welcoming people to...but hospitality is so deeply ingrained in her that it has become her whole life" (265).
The gospel lesson invites us to ask ourselves about the quality of welcome we give and receive.
The text this morning is the tail-end of the Mission Discourse that began in chapter 9. The disciples were being sent out, all 12 of them, on a mission trip. They were given instructions by Jesus on where to go, what to pack, and what not to take. They are to proclaim the good news, and have no fear, even though their reception will not always be pleasant.
But for those who welcome the traveling disciples, it will be as if they were welcoming Jesus himself. And for those who welcome Jesus, it will be as if they were welcoming God.
The Christian church is founded on hospitality. The early church was formed out of, and took in, those who were unwanted by society, those who were cast out of their families, those who were rejected. In fourth century Egypt, a man named Pachomius was one of a group of people abducted by roving gangs to be sent down the Nile to work as salves for the Roman army. The group was imprisoned in Thebes before being deported for work. When Christians in the city learned of the prisoners’ plight, they brought them food and drink. Their generosity prompted Pachomius to ask who those people were. He was told “they were Christians, who are merciful to everyone, including strangers.” This act of unexpected hospitality led to Pachomius’ conversion to Christianity.
Theologian Gordon Lathrop reminds us that, at the center of the life of the Church and of every congregation, there stands the one who came to live among and share the table with outsiders, those not included in faith community. Whether it was with the prostitute or tax collector, the Samaritan woman at the well or the Syro-Phoenician woman who begged him to heal her daughter, Jesus insisted on opening the fellowship of the faith, drawing in those who are outside it. So it must be with the core ministries of the Church that gathers in his name
But hospitality is a two-sided coin—we are to accept it as well as extend it. We are to be open to others who give to us, as well as seeing ourselves as the hospitable ones, to know we are not the only giving ones.
We are to take whatever hospitality is offered- even just a cup of cold water—and give it and receive it—all in Christ’s name, all with the love of Christ.
And we are to do it out of gratitude—not because hospitality is easy, or fun, or even because we will get a reward. When Jesus talks about people getting a prophet’s reward for their hospitality, I’m not sure that’s entirely a good thing- after all, prophets are pretty unpopular, kicked out of their hometowns, shunned and rejected—much like Jesus himself—but we are to extend hospitality in response to God’s steadfast love, as the psalmist says. God’s chesed- but in doing so we will be blessed.
Kathleen Norris tells another story, of another nun. Kathleen had traveled all the way from South Dakota to California, to be live with members of a convent in California for a time. She was late coming into vespers. An elderly nun, seeing her there, whispered loudly, after the service had started “Who are you?” when Kathleen tried to whisper back, the nun replied: “don’t bother. I’m hard of hearing. It doesn’t matter. We’re all God’s children.”
We’re all God’s children. We all are thirsty at times, we are all in need of bread and water.
Mother Theresa said “not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.” A cup of cold water- how small is that ? But it is something we can do.
The ancient fathers and mothers practiced radical hospitality. Whoever showed up, they took in. Without question: prostitutes, unwed mothers, the homeless—because they knew to welcome others was to welcome Christ. One desert father, upon seeing yet another hungry, poor traveler journeying toward the convent, looked up and said “Jesus Christ, is it you again?”
So, in this nest week, I want you to look with the eyes of faith: who gives you water? And to whom do you extend a cup of cold water—a smile—a card—a prayer? And what—and who—do you receive in return?

O Trinity of Love and Light

Genesis 1:1-2, 26-27 p1

When God began creating the heavens and the earth,2the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters. 26 Then God said “Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness; and let them have stewardship of the fish in the sea, and of the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the wild animals of the earth, and over every creeping thing upon the earth. So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God, God created them; male and female God created them.




Matthew 28:16-20 p 812
16Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them.17When they saw Jesus, they worshiped him; but some doubted.18And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.19Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,20and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”




This day, in the church calendar, is called Trinity Sunday. It is the only day in the church year that celebrates a doctrine, a theological idea or theorem. And, one I suppose, that many of us care little about. Today will come and go- and we will still have bills to pay, and sick children to take care of, and a spouse we worry about. Our loved ones will serve overseas, our physical pain will continue, the grass will still need to be mowed, the laundry need to be done. The doctrine of the Trinity—or any doctrine, for that matter, seems at best far away, something academicians talk about in ivory towers, but having very little to do with our every day lives.
And yet—and yet—the doctrine of the Trinity, the notion of a God so large, so awe inspiring, so overwhelming that one description of God is not enough, that mere language is not enough—is a notion of comfort, a way to explain- just a little- the mystery of overflowing love.
But what IS useful for us is the idea that God IS community- and that God, in God’s own self, demonstrates how to be community. And the community we are talking about is, of course, the church.
In Genesis, in the beginning--- God. When God began creating, God breathes and speaks, sees and creates. And God speaks in plural: “Let us make God in our image” God says. And this is a part of our understanding of Trinity- that God is plural, even before we have language to think about it, talk about it. At the beginning, even before the beginning, God is already community. This God of community and mystery is a relational God who loves, and in loving, chooses to create, redeem, and sustain creation, regardless of the ability of different parts of creation to respond in particular ways.
And this God loves us, and loves creation: “it is good”, God says. And this passage uses the name for God, Elohim – a plural form—in three different ways: in verse 1, Elohim is creating- out of nothing! In verse 2, the wind, or spirit or breath of Elohim is hovering, and in verse 4, Elohim is seeing and naming- that creation is good.
James Weldon Johnson was an African American poet, author and hymn writer. He wrote “Lift every voice and Sing”, which is in our hymn book. He also wrote a poem called The Creation, which begins “And God stepped out on space. Then he looked around and said—I’m lonely—I’ll make me a world.”
Now, I do not doubt Mr. Johnson’s talent or his place in history. But I disagree with him here. It is not loneliness which causes God to create—it is pure, overflowing love—the same way that the waters spill out of the pitcher and font and land on the floor every Sunday, the same way that light spills from the skies and illuminates everything in its path, the same way that having another child doesn’t mean you have less love, it just means there is more love to go around—God, the Triune God, the already community God, had so much love that God just had to share—with creation and with us.
If you have been in the Lodi historical society building, the old Lodi Methodist church, perhaps you have noticed a small stained glass window. The window is triangular in shape, in which a smaller, rounded off triangle is depicted in stained glass- and the three points of the triangle are the Latin words for Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. In the middle of the triangle is the word Deus- God. Linking each of the points of the triangle are the words, in Latin, for “is not” the Father is not the Son, the Son is not the Holy Spirit, etc- but all three persons are linked, like spokes on a bicycle wheel, in the middle to the word God. And all of those links have the word “is”- the Son IS God, the Holy Spirit IS God, the Father IS God. And while this is technically correct, doctrinally correct, it seems to me like a math theorem.
There are many ways, many images for God as Trinity: Water: overflowing font, living water, flowing river. Rock, Cornerstone and Temple. St Augustine used a living tree: the root is wood, the branch is wood, the trunk is wood- all are wood, all are different, all are inextricably linked in a mutual life.
But I like the image of a dancing God best.
One of the images for the Trinity is the idea of a circle dance-perichoresis, the same word that we get choreography from. And in that image, God in Three persons is dancing—intertwined, arms linked, feet moving joyously in a dance of freedom and love. When our boys were little, and Jim would finally get home from long hours at work, and a long commute on the Thruway, the boys would say jump around and yell “family hug, family hug!” And Jim and I would hug, and then boost the boys up on our arms—my image if the Trinity is something like that—that we are all linked together.
The Gospel of Matthew ends with the words of Jesus. The portion we heard this morning is called the Great Commission. And I don’t think that there were many hugs on that mountaintop that morning—maybe just grabbing onto each other in fear. This is the first time the disciples have seen Jesus, since they abandoned him, since they fled during his arrest. There are only 11 disciples mentioned, so the community has already experienced trauma and betrayal and death—and resurrection. The disciples are still shell shocked. The women had come running from the tomb, that Easter morning, and told the men what they had been told: go to Galilee, because Jesus will meet you there…the whole community, went to Galilee- about 70 or 80 miles…to wait for Jesus. What will he say to them? How much shame are they bearing, having to see Jesus again, face to face? And when the disciples see Jesus, they worship…but some doubt….literally, they are of two minds—and Jesus appears to them.
This I think, if one of the best descriptions of the church I have ever seen, the community of faith, made up of disparate people, some of whom have heard the words of the resurrected Jesus, some of whom have heard the other’s description of that event, all of whom are on a journey—of two minds- worshipping and doubting at the same time, marked by grief and death—and receiving the gracious words of Jesus, words of power and resurrection and of comfort.
Jesus is not shaming them, Jesus is not reproaching them. Jesus is giving them work to do. Jesus is giving them their marching orders- Go- Go and make disciples, baptizing and teaching. And remember, I am with you—always. Immanuel- God with us.
And as the community of faith, we can look to that moment, that God on the mountaintop, and see what kind of community the Triune God calls us to be:
We have work to do
God calls us to that work, whether we are screw-ups, or have failures in our life, for surely we do, or whether we doubt or worship or are of two minds, or any of the above- God calls us.
We are to do so without recriminations, without backbiting, with love- because that is what Jesus commands: we are to go and teach others , baptizing, making disciples of every nation, teach them to obey everything that I have commanded you- and what is that command? Love. Mutual love, upbuilding love, respectful love- the love that the Trinity, God in God’s own self, displays. Love that does not override someone else, but love in which all participants are joined- as in a circle dance—and separate and distinct, equal and equally loving, in relationship with each other and with God.
“We cannot speak of this God without recognizing that Trinity is not an optional “extra” to God, but is the very nature of God as revealed to us in Scripture. To lose the vocabulary of the Trinity is to miss out on a full understanding of who God is,” Charles Wiley writes.
Rodger Nishioka, this past week, at Montreat Youth Conference, said to over 1600 youth- “You cannot be a Christian by yourself”. We need each other. In the same way that the Three-ness of God is essential to who God is, the community-ness of the church is essential to who the church is. I have heard many times since we’ve moved up here- “you don’t have to go to church to be a Christian” and I agree, going to church does not make you a Christian, as they say, anymore than being in the garage makes you a car. But I can’t imagine how one could be a Christian without a community—because I find the work of being a Christian so hard, that I need others who are on the journey with me.
The Trinitarian God points to the relational nature of our lives. God in three persons is a relational idea- the three persons of the Trinity relate to each other in divine love. Each person of the Trinity has a distinct identity and yet all are connected and linked. Surely this means that just as love characterizes the eternal Trinity, so love should characterize our lives as a community of faith as well.

May we be shelter for each other, as we go out, making disciples, baptizing, teaching. May we reflect the Triune God in our common life together. May we be community, in the way God is community. In the name of the Trinity: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.