A Song of Welcome

Scriptures:     Psalm 113, Matthew 10:40-42

I hope that those of you who have been around for awhile aren’t getting too tired of all the talking that we do about providing an extravagant welcome.  That’s one of our most important pieces of ministry – to make each one who comes in those doors feel how welcome they are in this place.  And it is important to emphasize it again from time-to-time, even though we all know it’s what we try to be all about.  Finding ever new ways to be a welcoming congregation is our challenge…..and our joy.

Our two lectionary scriptures for today show us the face of a welcoming God and the model of a welcoming band of disciples – but with a twist.  We’ll come back to that in a moment.  Those of you who were here last week are going to hear some resonances with themes from last week’s sermon – resonances in terms of paradoxes and the trinity and sending forth (or commissioning).

Psalm 113 is from start to finish a hymn of praise about God.  It is a call to the people of God to remember who God is and what God has done.  Yet, the reason for all this praise is because of what God is doing for the very least of people.  As Paul Myhre of the Wabash Center for Teaching and Learning in Theology says, “What does this God do?  God watches over people, raises the poor, lifts the needy, equalizes power relationships, and provides children to women.  The equalization of humankind that the psalmist extols calls into question contemporary disparities between wealthy and poor, powerful and powerless, elite and excluded….. The psalmist calls into question the practices of people toward those who suffer in three categories:  poverty, need, and childlessness.  Those who participate in activities that push people toward poverty, drive people into places of need, and exclude those who are childless from circles of friendship are reminded that this is not consonant with God’s care for people.  Instead, the psalmist affirms for those languishing in the ash heaps and dust piles of despair that they will be lifted up.  Their experience will not be forever.  They will have a day of justice, a day where economic and power laden fields are leveled.  Their day of despair will not prevail.  A day of praise shall break forth.”

The Psalmist here in the 113^th Psalm is praising (again, as we said last week) both a transcendent and an immanent God – one who is greater than anything we could imagine and thus worthy of our praise while at the same time one who watches over people and enters into the minutia of their everyday lives.  It is a paradox.  I used to have lengthy discussions (well, OK, debates) with my atheist father who, while he could almost conceive of a transcendent God just simply could not wrap his head around a personal God who cared about people as individuals.  His scientific mind couldn’t allow for that kind of a paradox.

Yet, this is what the Psalmist is saying.  The creator of all that is and ever will be is somehow concerned with the ordinary activities of people.  The psalmist declares the radical uniqueness of a God that cannot be easily defined.  There is nothing in all creation that can be compared to this God, and yet this God is concerned about people – especially the poor and the weak.  This is God’s “preferential option for the poor”, as articulated by Pope John Paul II and the Catholic bishops at the influential conferences in Medellin and Puebla.  This is particularly articulated in verses 7-8, with, again, a paradoxical twist:  “(God) raises the poor from the dust, and lifts the needy from the ash heap, to make them sit with princes, with the princes of (God’s) people.”  This is why God is to be praised, and, interestingly, as a precursor to our worship of a threefold God, as we talked about last week, God is to be praised in a threefold way.  Roman Catholic Larry Broding explains:  “Notice the ‘pattern of three’ when the name of God is honored:  1) the faithful (or priests in the Temple as ‘servants’) were commanded to praise the name (113:1), 2) they were commanded to honor the name as a perpetual (eternal) activity (113:2), 3) they were commanded to praise the name in the cycle of daily activity (113:3).  In other words, the servants were to praise the name of (God) constantly.”

So, Psalm 113 offers us a welcoming God to whom we give praise constantly – but a God who specifically welcomes the poor and the downtrodden.  That’s the twist in this scripture I spoke about earlier.  In our text from Matthew we are presented with a welcoming community – but the twist here is that it is a community that welcomes Jesus when it is welcoming those poor and in need – and even more:  that it is welcoming “the one who sent me” (in other words, his parent God).  Matthew 10:40-42 foreshadows both the Great Commission, that we talked about last week, and the parable of the sheep and the goats in Matthew 25 – that other great welcoming of those who are hungry and thirsty and needing clothes and shelter and about whom the Lord says to his disciples, to us:  “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.” (25:40)

But our lectionary text isn’t just about welcoming those who come to our door and are needy – although it is that; it is also about sending, just as in the Great Commission – sending out in order to be welcomed in the name of the one who is doing the sending.  Earlier in chapter 10 Jesus describes how the disciples are to act as his envoys, extending his ministry, proclaiming the same good news and performing the same works of healing that he is doing.  Jesus’ further instructions make clear that the disciples are also to share in his poverty and homelessness, taking with them no money or extra clothing, and depending solely on the hospitality of others for shelter and sustenance (10:8b-13).  Jeremy Pierce notes about this passage:  “Jesus’ disciples are being sent out to preach that the kingdom of heaven is near and to perform miracles as evidence of that claim.  In context, receiving someone amounts to taking in disciples and receiving their message.  As he summarizes Jesus’ pep talk before sending them out, Matthew focuses in for a bit on some of Jesus’ teachings on how people will respond differently to them.  One of the things he’s been saying in this section is that acceptance of him amounts to acceptance of his Father, and acceptance of those who follow him is acceptance of him.”

Have you ever had the experience of having someone welcome you as though you are coming in the name of Jesus?  Pastor Elizabeth Johnson tells this story:  “Recently a friend told of an interaction with a bagger at her local grocery store.  She had been talking with this woman off and on for a year, and upon learning that she no longer worked on Sundays, invited her to come to her church, to their casual, outdoor, come-as-you-are service.  Much to my friend’s surprise, the woman responded by giving her a hug!”  Pastor Johnson goes on to comment on this story in the light of our passage from Matthew:  “We may not always receive such a positive response when we take the risk of reaching out, yet we may be surprised at how ready many are to receive our most humble efforts.  Lest we forget what we have to offer, we have Jesus’ promise:  ‘Whoever welcomes you welcomes me.’”

Last Sunday evening we were at The Orleans to see Lily Tomlin.  Ann found herself before the show sitting next to a couple of guys and started a conversation.  When she found out they lived on Eastern Avenue, she told them about our church and gave them a card.  They seemed genuinely grateful for this reaching out.  Now, we may never see them inside our doors, but the point is really in the reaching out.  Like her friend with the bagger that Elizabeth Johnson talks about, you may be surprised by the response you get by offering a simple invitation – even to a stranger. It’s very reminiscent, isn’t it, of that wonderful verse from the book of Hebrews:  “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.” (13:2 – RSV)

What we are seeing in this passage is the dual nature of hospitality – the gathering in and the sending out – again, a paradox.  We are called to gather in community and here we offer our “extravagant welcome”.  But we are also sent, and then we might be both welcomed (in the name of the one who sends us) and welcoming.  Kate Huey writes about this passage:  “Hospitality is a very good thing, of course.  In the United Church of Christ, we claim ‘extravagant hospitality’ at the heart of our vision for the church, and we’re trying to live that out the best we can.  Jesus, interestingly, doesn’t speak in terms of extravagance here but of one little cold cup of water.  Even that much, he says, will be rewarded.  Arguing from the lesser to the greater (as he so often did), we can imagine how pleased God is by an extravagant welcome offered in God’s name.  But offering that welcome and the gift of compassion is as good for our own spiritual health as it is for the well-being of the one welcomed.  It’s one very good way that we experience the reign of God drawing near.”

At the end of this passage Jesus says, “and 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” (10:42).  The Greek word for “little ones” is micros, which often refers to children, but Matthew uses it here to refer to Jesus’ disciples, especially those who are young in faith or particularly vulnerable.  The idea of a “reward” feels like it is something we have earned.  But this is not the case.  In the parable of the sheep and the goats in Matthew 25 Jesus says to the righteous, “Come,inherit the kingdom prepared for you…”  An inheritance is pure gift.  It is grace.  Those who welcome and care for the needs of “little ones” welcome and care for Jesus himself.  To receive Jesus is to receive the one who sent him, and to become heirs to all that the Creator God has to give.  In other places in Matthew Jesus speaks of the “rewards” of the prophets as being persecution, rejection, and even death.  To be followers of Jesus – to be disciples – can mean these things.  But the gift of grace goes right along with all the difficult parts of being a disciple.  When we give that cup of cold water we will not lose our reward.

Ours is a pulsating faith – a systole and diastole – a gathering and a sending.  I love to quote Barbara Brown Taylor (as you know well by now), and she has a unique way of reminding us how we are not “consumers” but “providers of God’s love” when she says:  ”In a world that can be hard and scary sometimes, it is tempting to think of the church as a hideout, the place where those of us who know the secret password can gather to celebrate our good fortune.  As we repeat our favorite stories and eat the food that has been prepared for us, it is tempting to think of ourselves as consumers of God’s love, chosen people who have been given more good gifts than we can open at one sitting:  healing, forgiveness, restoration, resurrection.  Then one day the Holy Spirit comes knocking at the door, disturbing our members-only meeting and reminding us that it is time to share.”

Elizabeth Johnson once again:  “Perhaps not all are sent to be wandering missionaries, depending on others for shelter and sustenance, but that doesn’t mean we are off the hook.  The entire baptized are sent into the world to tell and embody the good news of Jesus Christ.  All are sent to bear Christ to others with humility and vulnerability, being willing to risk rejection.   What would happen if we stopped expecting people to come on their own initiative through our church doors, and instead took seriously our calling to bring the gospel to them?  What would happen if we truly believed that we bear the presence of Christ to every person we encounter, in every home, workplace, or neighborhood we enter? What would happen if we saw every conversation as an opportunity to speak words of grace, every interaction as an opportunity to embody Christ’s love for the neighbor?”

And while you’re thinking about those “what would happen” questions, here’s another kind of question for you to contemplate, courtesy of Anna Carter Florence, Associate Professor of Preaching and Worship at Columbia Theological Seminary:  “If Jesus were coming to breakfast tomorrow, what would you hope might happen?  How would you set up the space?  Would you want to serve him quickly and efficiently so he could be up and out and about his father’s business?  Would you want to serve him lavishly and impressively so he would remember the food as among the best he ever tasted?  Would you want to serve him simply so there would be time for you to linger around the table, talking over a second or third cup of coffee?   Would you be so intimidated by the greatness of his presence that you would hover in the kitchen doorway, only entering to refill his cup?  If Jesus were coming to breakfast tomorrow, what would you hope for, and how would you create the space to let it happen?  Ask.  Because when you welcome someone for breakfast, you welcome Jesus, and when you welcome Jesus, you welcome the One who sent him.”

Amen.

Dave Pomeroy

First Congregational Church, UCC

Las Vegas, NV

June 26, 2011