| “PERPETUAL OPEN HOUSE” First in a Series on Underappreciated Gifts Genesis 18:1-8; Acts 28:1-10 Olivet Covenant Presbyterian Church, Philadelphia, PA © Rev. Linda Jaymes, 6/6/10 |
Two weeks ago, on Pentecost, I described some of the very dramatic spiritual gifts that were evident during worship at
the Holy Spirit conference I attended a few weeks ago. But not all spiritual gifts are obvious or accompanied by visible signs
and wonders. Scripture tells us that all the members of the body of Christ have at least one spiritual gift and all of them are
very important, even the ones which may not be the most visible or may not get much attention in the church. But the truth is
that we can’t live without them, and so I want to spend these next few weeks helping us think about some of these often
overlooked and underappreciated but indispensable gifts.
Today we’ll be looking at the gift of hospitality. Maybe one of the reasons this gift is overlooked and underappreciated is
because our modern culture has become increasingly too busy to practice it! It’s much easier to find illustrations that
demonstrate a lack of hospitality. For instance, I read about a couple by the name of Jim and Linda Onan of Wadswroth, IL,
who wanted an unusual house. So they built a 7,000-square-foot pyramid covered in 24-karat gold, and they surrounded it by a
moat in order to stock it with sharks! Obviously, they don’t have the gift of hospitality, or if they do, they haven’t discovered it
yet!
The bad example I am personally aware of is the story of a young man who had just been released from prison and who
was taken into the home of the pastor of the church where I raised my kids and where I was ordained. This pastor supplied
room and board and a whole lot more for this young man for a period of several weeks, and during that time he helped him look
for work and gave him the use of his car. Unfortunately, one day both the car and the young man disappeared and several
weeks passed before the car turned up in North Carolina—having been totaled in an accident. I don’t recall whatever happened
to the young man. So much for having your gift of hospitality appreciated!
With examples of good hospitality so few and far between, we may have no idea what it really looks like—especially the
unique Middle Eastern variety. Our nation has always had a rather individualistic emphasis, which encourages people to mind
their own business and take care of themselves, rather than risk getting involved with the problems and needs of others. After
all, practicing hospitality is a venture into the unknown. When we welcome strangers—or even friends and relatives—there’s
always a chance that they will take advantage of us in some way. They may even expect us to be responsible for them, and
who wants to risk that? Most of us already have enough trouble of our own. But if you’ve ever been the recipient of the gift
of hospitality in a time of need, perhaps you can understand how precious these people are who have a heart for strangers and a
gift for hospitality.
Today’s scripture lessons give us some idea of what these people and this gift looks like. And by the way, in Biblical times
and cultures, hospitality wasn’t considered a gift, but a duty. Everyone was expected to exercise hospitality. But Middle
Eastern hospitality was different than the kind of hospitality we think of and extend to our neighbors and friends. Hospitality in
the Near and Middle East was the process of receiving outsiders and transforming them from strangers to friends. It was
actually a rather involved process, with unwritten rules about how the host and guest should behave. The stranger was often
given what you might call “tests,” to determine whether they would be a threat to the community, and whether they would fit in
and abide by the community’s norms. To help pass these tests, sometimes the stranger would even carry letters of
recommendation. Other times, the host would ask the stranger to speak in front of community leaders. If they were satisfied,
the ritual of foot washing then marked the newcomer’s movement from stranger to accepted guest. But only time and
experience would tell whether the guest would depart as friend or enemy.
Abraham’s story, recorded in Genesis 18, gives us a picture of this special kind of hospitality, which he extended to three
strangers who arrived at the door of his tent one day. I emphasize strangers because even though the chapter begins by saying
that “the Lord appeared to Abraham as he was sitting by his tent,” we have to remember that Abraham did not know that they
were messengers from God until later in the story. And so his response to those three strangers seems quite remarkable by our
standards. As soon as they appeared, he jumped up and ran to meet them, bowing before them, as the custom in that culture
required. He welcomed them and pleaded with them to stay and honor him with their presence, indicating he would be very
disappointed if they just kept on going without allowing him to provide rest and refreshment for them.
Scripture doesn’t tell us whether Abraham gave them any kind of test or not, or whether he just used his intuition and
decided they were acceptable guests, but in any case, the first thing he did was to provide water to wash their feet, just as the
tradition dictated. (And having traveled in Israel and seen just how rocky and dusty just about every part of that land is, I can
tell you that foot washing makes a lot of sense for people who travel around in sandals!) After the foot-washing, Abraham
invited the strangers to sit down in the shade of a tree to rest and catch their breath. Meanwhile, he hurried into the tent and
told Sarah to bake bread, and then ran to the herd and selected a choice calf to be prepared for a meal.
When it was all ready, Abraham served his guests and then stood nearby while they ate. I think we might picture Abraham
and his entire household involved in frantic activity to provide for the needs of these strangers who had become guests. I can’t
be sure, but who knows, maybe this is where we get the expression, “to wait on someone hand and foot.” We can be sure,
though, that when the writer to the Hebrews later encouraged believers to “practice hospitality because by so doing, some have
entertained angels unaware,” it was Abraham’s story and example in the writer’s mind. Abraham certainly had the gift of
hospitality, a gift we should try to exercise because we never know when the strangers in our midst have been sent from God.
That’s really what happened in the story we just heard from the book of Acts. This is quite a remarkable story about
hospitality, although in this case it’s not the Christians exercising a spiritual gift, but the natives, demonstrating so beautifully
what appears to be some kind of natural disposition for hospitality. And perhaps I need to say something here about the
difference between a spiritual gift and a talent. Sometimes we can’t tell the difference, just as it often is with gifts of the Spirit
and fruit of the Spirit. Hospitality is one of those character traits that should be growing as fruit in all Christians as we seek to
become more like Christ. Whether God has given us this gift as the special calling and passion of our lives, or whether we have
to work at it, we are all called to practice hospitality.
This picture of hospitality in Acts, though demonstrated by pagans on the island of Malta, still gives us another good
example of what hospitality ought to look like. The Apostle Paul had been shipwrecked there while under arrest and military
escort back to Rome for trial. Scripture says that the islanders showed them unusual kindness, apparently even surpassing
Middle Eastern standards. The natives built a fire on the beach and welcomed the strangers because it was raining and cold.
They didn’t interview them first and find out if they were worthy of their kindness; they just welcomed them because there was
an obvious need: they were cold and wet. But as Paul helped put more wood on the fire, he was bitten by a supposedly
poisonous snake. When this happened, and since the natives must have figured out that he was a prisoner of those Roman
guards, they concluded that he must be a murderer. They expected him to swell up and die. But when he didn’t, they radically
changed their minds and figured he must be a god.
Actually, it seems like they really didn’t know quite what to do with him at that point. But continuing in the spirit of
hospitality, they took Paul and his companions to the estate of Publius, the chief official on the island. Scripture tells us that this
Publius also exercised uncommon hospitality, by welcoming them into his home for three days, in spite of the fact that he
already had his hands full with a sick father. But Paul was able to heal the man, through prayer and the laying on of hands.
And when news of that healing spread throughout the island, the rest of the sick came and were cured, either supernaturally or
through Luke’s medical expertise or both. We can’t be sure. But the final outcome was that Paul and the rest of his shipmates
enjoyed the gracious hospitality of the island for three months. Paul says they were honored in many ways during their stay,
and when it was time to leave, the natives sent them off with the supplies that they needed.
Scripture doesn’t tell us whether these natives ever became Christians. But knowing Paul, I think we can trust that he
spent most of his time witnessing to Jesus. And considering the large-heartedness of those natives, it seems likely that they
would be open to receiving the Good News of the Gospel. In a way, you could say that they had entertained angels unaware,
for Paul and his companions were certainly messengers of God, and the natives were blessed because they welcomed the
strangers among them. Hopefully as we think about stories like this, we’ll work a little harder at practicing hospitality. It would
be a very sad commentary indeed if we Christians don’t extend hospitality to strangers at least as well as the so-called pagans!
We should certainly thank God for those among us who have been given this gift of hospitality, and who, by their actions,
show us what this gift is all about. In fact, these folks are gifts to us! You know some of them. They seem to be having
perpetual open house. Their homes always seem to be filled with people, not only neighbors and friends, but acquaintances
and strangers who they are turning into friends. Sometimes when we visit these folks, they wait on us hand and foot. They
can’t seem to do enough to take care of our every need, which for them never seems like work but the source of their greatest
joy. Like those Maltese islanders, these special folks seem to have a certain radar for locating and rehabilitating shipwrecked
souls, graciously receiving them and then providing food, a warm fire and a place to stay until the storm passes by.
Sometimes, the people with this gift don’t even have very much in the way of worldly goods. But whatever they have, they
share gladly, and God just seems to multiply the blessings for host and stranger alike.
If we know people with this gift, it makes us think twice about our own tendency to ignore the needs of strangers. Maybe
it even makes us wonder if there have been times in our own lives when our unwelcoming behavior has turned away angels
unawares! For example, there is a modern parable about a man who went to visit a church. He arrived early, parked his car,
and got out. Another car pulled up near him, and the driver told him, "I always park there. You took my place!" The visitor
went inside anyway, found the adult Sunday School class and sat down in an empty seat.
Right away, a young lady approached him and stated, "That's my seat! You took my place!" The visitor was somewhat
distressed by this rude welcome, but said nothing. After Sunday School, the visitor went into the church sanctuary and sat
down for worship. Another member walked up to him and said, "That's where I always sit. You took my place!" The visitor
was even more troubled by this treatment, but still said nothing. Later, as the congregation was praying for Christ to dwell
among them, the visitor stood, and his appearance began to change. Horrible scars became visible on his hands and on his
sandaled feet. Someone from the congregation noticed him and called out, "What happened to you?" And the visitor replied, "I
took your place."
On this Communion Sunday, we are reminded that regardless of age or race or culture or economic standing, Christ took
our place on the Cross, and all He asks is that we receive Him through faith and make a place for Him in our hearts. Today we
come to this Table confident that Christ has made a place for each of us. When you think about it, our presence at this Table is
because Christ has shared with us his gift of hospitality. We were strangers, but He invited us in and made us friends. We
were a very poor risk to get involved with, but He took a chance on us anyway. We were prisoners of Satan, sailing straight to
hell, but while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. We were even shipwrecked and lost at sea, but Christ threw out the
lifeline of salvation, and established a home for us on an eternal shore.
With all that in mind then, how should we respond to Christ’s gift of hospitality? Should we not use our gifts to help turn
strangers into friends? Should we not make this a place of perpetual open house, a place for the strangers among us to be
welcomed and strengthened until they recover from the storms of life? Should we not consider that the strangers in our midst
may also be testing us, to find out whether Christ is truly alive and real in this community of faith? And if He is, then as we
come as his friends to his table, should we not also dedicate ourselves to practicing the kind of hospitality that invites strangers
to know Christ through our welcome, friendship, forgiveness and love?
Practicing hospitality is not always easy. Sometimes our fears keep us from taking chances on strangers and on people
who are different from us. But let’s try and remember that we’re only here today because Christ has opened his heart and
home and Table to us and to everyone who receives Him as Lord and Savior. And in response, He expects us to open our
hearts and our homes to others, in memory of Him. And who knows. When we do that in the spirit of true, Christ-like
hospitality, we shouldn’t be surprised to find ourselves occasionally entertaining angels, or even Someone Greater than angels,
completely unaware.
Let us pray.
the Holy Spirit conference I attended a few weeks ago. But not all spiritual gifts are obvious or accompanied by visible signs
and wonders. Scripture tells us that all the members of the body of Christ have at least one spiritual gift and all of them are
very important, even the ones which may not be the most visible or may not get much attention in the church. But the truth is
that we can’t live without them, and so I want to spend these next few weeks helping us think about some of these often
overlooked and underappreciated but indispensable gifts.
Today we’ll be looking at the gift of hospitality. Maybe one of the reasons this gift is overlooked and underappreciated is
because our modern culture has become increasingly too busy to practice it! It’s much easier to find illustrations that
demonstrate a lack of hospitality. For instance, I read about a couple by the name of Jim and Linda Onan of Wadswroth, IL,
who wanted an unusual house. So they built a 7,000-square-foot pyramid covered in 24-karat gold, and they surrounded it by a
moat in order to stock it with sharks! Obviously, they don’t have the gift of hospitality, or if they do, they haven’t discovered it
yet!
The bad example I am personally aware of is the story of a young man who had just been released from prison and who
was taken into the home of the pastor of the church where I raised my kids and where I was ordained. This pastor supplied
room and board and a whole lot more for this young man for a period of several weeks, and during that time he helped him look
for work and gave him the use of his car. Unfortunately, one day both the car and the young man disappeared and several
weeks passed before the car turned up in North Carolina—having been totaled in an accident. I don’t recall whatever happened
to the young man. So much for having your gift of hospitality appreciated!
With examples of good hospitality so few and far between, we may have no idea what it really looks like—especially the
unique Middle Eastern variety. Our nation has always had a rather individualistic emphasis, which encourages people to mind
their own business and take care of themselves, rather than risk getting involved with the problems and needs of others. After
all, practicing hospitality is a venture into the unknown. When we welcome strangers—or even friends and relatives—there’s
always a chance that they will take advantage of us in some way. They may even expect us to be responsible for them, and
who wants to risk that? Most of us already have enough trouble of our own. But if you’ve ever been the recipient of the gift
of hospitality in a time of need, perhaps you can understand how precious these people are who have a heart for strangers and a
gift for hospitality.
Today’s scripture lessons give us some idea of what these people and this gift looks like. And by the way, in Biblical times
and cultures, hospitality wasn’t considered a gift, but a duty. Everyone was expected to exercise hospitality. But Middle
Eastern hospitality was different than the kind of hospitality we think of and extend to our neighbors and friends. Hospitality in
the Near and Middle East was the process of receiving outsiders and transforming them from strangers to friends. It was
actually a rather involved process, with unwritten rules about how the host and guest should behave. The stranger was often
given what you might call “tests,” to determine whether they would be a threat to the community, and whether they would fit in
and abide by the community’s norms. To help pass these tests, sometimes the stranger would even carry letters of
recommendation. Other times, the host would ask the stranger to speak in front of community leaders. If they were satisfied,
the ritual of foot washing then marked the newcomer’s movement from stranger to accepted guest. But only time and
experience would tell whether the guest would depart as friend or enemy.
Abraham’s story, recorded in Genesis 18, gives us a picture of this special kind of hospitality, which he extended to three
strangers who arrived at the door of his tent one day. I emphasize strangers because even though the chapter begins by saying
that “the Lord appeared to Abraham as he was sitting by his tent,” we have to remember that Abraham did not know that they
were messengers from God until later in the story. And so his response to those three strangers seems quite remarkable by our
standards. As soon as they appeared, he jumped up and ran to meet them, bowing before them, as the custom in that culture
required. He welcomed them and pleaded with them to stay and honor him with their presence, indicating he would be very
disappointed if they just kept on going without allowing him to provide rest and refreshment for them.
Scripture doesn’t tell us whether Abraham gave them any kind of test or not, or whether he just used his intuition and
decided they were acceptable guests, but in any case, the first thing he did was to provide water to wash their feet, just as the
tradition dictated. (And having traveled in Israel and seen just how rocky and dusty just about every part of that land is, I can
tell you that foot washing makes a lot of sense for people who travel around in sandals!) After the foot-washing, Abraham
invited the strangers to sit down in the shade of a tree to rest and catch their breath. Meanwhile, he hurried into the tent and
told Sarah to bake bread, and then ran to the herd and selected a choice calf to be prepared for a meal.
When it was all ready, Abraham served his guests and then stood nearby while they ate. I think we might picture Abraham
and his entire household involved in frantic activity to provide for the needs of these strangers who had become guests. I can’t
be sure, but who knows, maybe this is where we get the expression, “to wait on someone hand and foot.” We can be sure,
though, that when the writer to the Hebrews later encouraged believers to “practice hospitality because by so doing, some have
entertained angels unaware,” it was Abraham’s story and example in the writer’s mind. Abraham certainly had the gift of
hospitality, a gift we should try to exercise because we never know when the strangers in our midst have been sent from God.
That’s really what happened in the story we just heard from the book of Acts. This is quite a remarkable story about
hospitality, although in this case it’s not the Christians exercising a spiritual gift, but the natives, demonstrating so beautifully
what appears to be some kind of natural disposition for hospitality. And perhaps I need to say something here about the
difference between a spiritual gift and a talent. Sometimes we can’t tell the difference, just as it often is with gifts of the Spirit
and fruit of the Spirit. Hospitality is one of those character traits that should be growing as fruit in all Christians as we seek to
become more like Christ. Whether God has given us this gift as the special calling and passion of our lives, or whether we have
to work at it, we are all called to practice hospitality.
This picture of hospitality in Acts, though demonstrated by pagans on the island of Malta, still gives us another good
example of what hospitality ought to look like. The Apostle Paul had been shipwrecked there while under arrest and military
escort back to Rome for trial. Scripture says that the islanders showed them unusual kindness, apparently even surpassing
Middle Eastern standards. The natives built a fire on the beach and welcomed the strangers because it was raining and cold.
They didn’t interview them first and find out if they were worthy of their kindness; they just welcomed them because there was
an obvious need: they were cold and wet. But as Paul helped put more wood on the fire, he was bitten by a supposedly
poisonous snake. When this happened, and since the natives must have figured out that he was a prisoner of those Roman
guards, they concluded that he must be a murderer. They expected him to swell up and die. But when he didn’t, they radically
changed their minds and figured he must be a god.
Actually, it seems like they really didn’t know quite what to do with him at that point. But continuing in the spirit of
hospitality, they took Paul and his companions to the estate of Publius, the chief official on the island. Scripture tells us that this
Publius also exercised uncommon hospitality, by welcoming them into his home for three days, in spite of the fact that he
already had his hands full with a sick father. But Paul was able to heal the man, through prayer and the laying on of hands.
And when news of that healing spread throughout the island, the rest of the sick came and were cured, either supernaturally or
through Luke’s medical expertise or both. We can’t be sure. But the final outcome was that Paul and the rest of his shipmates
enjoyed the gracious hospitality of the island for three months. Paul says they were honored in many ways during their stay,
and when it was time to leave, the natives sent them off with the supplies that they needed.
Scripture doesn’t tell us whether these natives ever became Christians. But knowing Paul, I think we can trust that he
spent most of his time witnessing to Jesus. And considering the large-heartedness of those natives, it seems likely that they
would be open to receiving the Good News of the Gospel. In a way, you could say that they had entertained angels unaware,
for Paul and his companions were certainly messengers of God, and the natives were blessed because they welcomed the
strangers among them. Hopefully as we think about stories like this, we’ll work a little harder at practicing hospitality. It would
be a very sad commentary indeed if we Christians don’t extend hospitality to strangers at least as well as the so-called pagans!
We should certainly thank God for those among us who have been given this gift of hospitality, and who, by their actions,
show us what this gift is all about. In fact, these folks are gifts to us! You know some of them. They seem to be having
perpetual open house. Their homes always seem to be filled with people, not only neighbors and friends, but acquaintances
and strangers who they are turning into friends. Sometimes when we visit these folks, they wait on us hand and foot. They
can’t seem to do enough to take care of our every need, which for them never seems like work but the source of their greatest
joy. Like those Maltese islanders, these special folks seem to have a certain radar for locating and rehabilitating shipwrecked
souls, graciously receiving them and then providing food, a warm fire and a place to stay until the storm passes by.
Sometimes, the people with this gift don’t even have very much in the way of worldly goods. But whatever they have, they
share gladly, and God just seems to multiply the blessings for host and stranger alike.
If we know people with this gift, it makes us think twice about our own tendency to ignore the needs of strangers. Maybe
it even makes us wonder if there have been times in our own lives when our unwelcoming behavior has turned away angels
unawares! For example, there is a modern parable about a man who went to visit a church. He arrived early, parked his car,
and got out. Another car pulled up near him, and the driver told him, "I always park there. You took my place!" The visitor
went inside anyway, found the adult Sunday School class and sat down in an empty seat.
Right away, a young lady approached him and stated, "That's my seat! You took my place!" The visitor was somewhat
distressed by this rude welcome, but said nothing. After Sunday School, the visitor went into the church sanctuary and sat
down for worship. Another member walked up to him and said, "That's where I always sit. You took my place!" The visitor
was even more troubled by this treatment, but still said nothing. Later, as the congregation was praying for Christ to dwell
among them, the visitor stood, and his appearance began to change. Horrible scars became visible on his hands and on his
sandaled feet. Someone from the congregation noticed him and called out, "What happened to you?" And the visitor replied, "I
took your place."
On this Communion Sunday, we are reminded that regardless of age or race or culture or economic standing, Christ took
our place on the Cross, and all He asks is that we receive Him through faith and make a place for Him in our hearts. Today we
come to this Table confident that Christ has made a place for each of us. When you think about it, our presence at this Table is
because Christ has shared with us his gift of hospitality. We were strangers, but He invited us in and made us friends. We
were a very poor risk to get involved with, but He took a chance on us anyway. We were prisoners of Satan, sailing straight to
hell, but while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. We were even shipwrecked and lost at sea, but Christ threw out the
lifeline of salvation, and established a home for us on an eternal shore.
With all that in mind then, how should we respond to Christ’s gift of hospitality? Should we not use our gifts to help turn
strangers into friends? Should we not make this a place of perpetual open house, a place for the strangers among us to be
welcomed and strengthened until they recover from the storms of life? Should we not consider that the strangers in our midst
may also be testing us, to find out whether Christ is truly alive and real in this community of faith? And if He is, then as we
come as his friends to his table, should we not also dedicate ourselves to practicing the kind of hospitality that invites strangers
to know Christ through our welcome, friendship, forgiveness and love?
Practicing hospitality is not always easy. Sometimes our fears keep us from taking chances on strangers and on people
who are different from us. But let’s try and remember that we’re only here today because Christ has opened his heart and
home and Table to us and to everyone who receives Him as Lord and Savior. And in response, He expects us to open our
hearts and our homes to others, in memory of Him. And who knows. When we do that in the spirit of true, Christ-like
hospitality, we shouldn’t be surprised to find ourselves occasionally entertaining angels, or even Someone Greater than angels,
completely unaware.
Let us pray.
