Text: Luke 14:1, 7-14; Heb 13:1-8, 15-16;

I spent most of last month on holidays. Some of that time was spent at home in Brandon; some was spent on the road. As we traveled, we were the beneficiaries of the hospitality of others, sometimes paying for the privilege, and sometimes not.

The “hospitality business” is one of the major sectors of our economy. We mostly don’t have to worry about finding accommodation when we’re on the road—as long as we have the means to pay for it! And in today’s mobile society, many of us have family and friends who can bunk us down for the night in various places. We rarely have to depend on strangers.

That’s how it works today in Canada, but things were very different in the ancient Near East, when most people lived nomadic lives. Public inns were rare, and every stranger was a potential enemy. So arose the custom of treating every guest with respect, friend and foe alike, providing provender for animals, water to wash, rest, and a feast, because a host never knew when he himself would be likewise dependent. A traveler entering a city would come to the open place, and there someone would invite him to his home and grant him the usual graces.[i] Hospitality remains one of the hallmarks of Middle Eastern society, long after the disappearance of the nomadic way of life.

Even in Jesus’ time, most of the people of Palestine lived settled lives, but the rules of hospitality persisted. As in itinerant teacher, Jesus was dependent on hospitality for his daily care and lodging as he pursued his ministry. When he sent forth the first apostles, Jesus told them to accept the hospitality of the places they entered, and it seems clear that the early church grew through the continued practice of welcoming strangers.

The writer to the letter to Hebrews tells his readers.

Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.

The inclusion of this admonition in this “shopping list” of good advice suggests that neglect of hospitality may have been becoming an issue in the 1^st century, perhaps due to increasing urbanization. But what the writer says is still true—you never know whom you might be welcoming.

Today’s gospel lesson is set on one of those many occasions when Jesus was a guest at someone else’s table. A leader of the Pharisees welcomed the traveling preacher to his home. He and his friends were “checking him out.” It’s a “teachable moment,” which Jesus uses to show how hospitality can be abused by both giver and receiver, and thus how we ought both to give and to receive.

Some of the guests at the meal were choosing places of honour, seeing them as their due, presuming upon their host’s graciousness. Although we hear them in the context of a banquet, Jesus’ words to the guests apply to all of life: any gift, dinner invitation or otherwise, should be accepted graciously, with humility.

Then Jesus turns to his host, urging him to invite people out of pure grace, not because they can repay. A gift given with the expectation of some return is no gift at all, but an attempt at deal-making.

Jesus teaches hospitality modeled on God’s own divine hospitality, which begins with the understanding that this is God’s world, and that everything we have is held in trust from him. Through the miracle of creation and the divine gift of life, God has invited us into his world, welcoming us as his guests. It is an act of pure grace, motivated solely by God’s love for the creatures of his hand. God expects nothing in return—nothing except our love and our devotion to his world and his people, humble and grateful acceptance of his infinite blessings.

Fr. Anthony de Mello tells this story:[ii]

In the last century, a tourist from the States visited the famous Polish rabbi Hafez Hayyim.

He was astonished to see that the rabbi’s home was only a simple room filled with books. The only furniture was a table and a bench.

“Rabbi, where is your furniture?” asked the tourist.

“Where is yours?” replied Hafez.

“Mine? But I’m only a visitor here.”

“So am I,” said the rabbi.

Friends, we are visitors in this world; we are guests in God’s creation; we are recipients of divine hospitality. Let us not presume upon God’s grace, but accept with thanks our place in the banquet of God’s love. And let us not hold this bounty to ourselves, using it for our own purposes. Rather, let us share it freely with all—friend and stranger alike—for truly, we never know who we may be welcoming.

Let our hospitality—in our homes, in our church, and in our city and country—reflect God’s own hospitality.

Let it well up freely from grateful and generous hearts, hearts filled to overflowing with God’s love.

Amen.