“WELCOME”

Scripture Lesson:  Matthew 10: 40-42

Dr. Matthew Brown

June 26, 2005

 

If you Google the word “hospitality” (You know, I’ll bet John Calvin never began a sermon with those words.) you will not find helpful hints about making your home a more inviting place.  No, you will be inundated with sites about the hotel business, which in the trade, is refered to as the hospitality industry.  And, it is of course, in a hotel’s best interest to create a hospitable environment so that you may feel so cared for that you would choose to return.  And many here have memories of luxuriant rooms, fluffy bathrobes, mints on the pillow, and as we savored last Summer, freshly baked chocolate chip cookies delivered to your room in the mid-afternoon.                       

 

Now, I don’t know Dom Perignon from Dom Deluise, so I don’t care a wit about champaign welcomes and an on-call sommolier.  But you give me a warm chewy chocolate chip cookie with no nuts in it and I’ll be singing your praises for life.

 

We could spend an afternoon sharing special memories of special stays at special places, but in this room of well-versed travelers, I would bet almost everyone can share a nightmare memory of a most inhospitable outpost of the hospitality industry.

I remember my first trip to NYC back in the early eighties when I was a wee young lad of 22, old enough to accompany my mother, who like many women, has a spouse who would rather sign up for a root canal cruise than go to New York.

 

Now, my mother and I were not seasoned travelers, and thus were easily drawn in by one of those less than honest, hyperbolic travel guides.  You know the ones.  Paris on $50 a day.  Amsterdam on $75 a day.  I think the one we bought was something like, New York on $2.63 a week.

 

Well, mistake number one was that we took the guide’s advice on a motel in mid-town Manhattan.  That just doesn’t sound right, does it?  You stay in a motel off the interstate in Jasper, Indiana, but a motel New York City, a motor inn in mid-town Manhattan?

 

Mistake number two: the motel was located on 42nd Street.  Now, remember, this was the early eighties, when 42nd Street made Sodom and Gommorah look like Vatican City.  And here’s a 22 year old redneck from the sticks and his fifty one year old mother wanting to walk back and forth to the theater and the museums.  It was an interesting walk.  “Why mom, I didn’t see that place in the brochure.”

 

So, we walk into the expansive motel lobby, which was about the size of your average toll booth, and step up to the desk, which I think actually was a toll booth, (just pulled it right in there from the Jersey turnpike) and received our room key from the gracious gentleman who seemed the sort who would be very familiar and comfortable with confined spaces equipped with bars on the windows.  Unfortunately, though, the room had not been cleaned, and so we returned to  our eloquent friend ten floors below in the toll booth and he was so nice to give/throw four or five keys at us so that maybe, hopefully, we could find a room that had been cleaned.  We could see they had not been busy cleaning the lobby.  So we took the keys and trudged back upstairs.  On the third try, we thought we had found success.  There wasn’t even any police tape on the door.  But the room was sooo hot.  It was eighty five degrees outside and probably 95 degrees in the room.  When I finally drummed up the courage to ask “Mr. Leavenworth” about it, ever the gracious host, he said, “Open da windows.  We ain’t turnin’ on the air until later in the month.”  Let’s just say, I protesteth not.  I took it from the tone of his voice that I had better just think of it as the motel’s complimentary sauna service.  Yeah, that’s it.  We were staying in a spa!

 

Hospitality.  Some places have a way of making you feel welcome and some places do not.  And that’s what hospitality is all about, isn’t it?  Making you feel welcome, maybe even at home.  I remember attending a choir party (redundant?) years ago and the nervous, smiling host greeted us at the front door and quickly ushered us through the back door to an increasingly crowded back deck, which, with each new arrival was feeling more like a cow pen and less like a social occasion. 

 

It began to dawn on me that the host wasn’t trying to create some kind of casual backyard ambience.  He just didn’t want us in his house.  It started raining and he just kept nervously smiling and talking as though this was some kind of weather enchanted evening, but you could detect the panic in his eyes, the nightmare vision of choir feet clambering on his carpet.

 

The dictionary provides the following definition for welcome:  “Received with pleasure and hospitality into one’s company or home; Cordially or willingly invited; to receive or accept gladly.”  Welcome.

 

What a joy it is to be received joyfully.  Where are the places you have been welcomed in your life and what did that experience mean to you?  Future in-laws receiving you as one of their own.  That first day in a new school when a student doesn’t treat you as the alien from Mars but befriends you and watches out for you - helping you with those maddening locker combinations, showing you the lunchroom routine, introducing you to other students.  How about that first day on the new job when you felt like your tongue was tied, your mind was running in reverse, and your hands had become concrete blocks.  But somebody smiled, somebody gave you that look that calmed your pounding heart, reminding you that everybody has had that “first day” experience.  

 

Welcomed.  To be received and accepted gladly.  It means the world to you, doesn’t it?  And it is infectious.  It is enough to make you want to be the one to joyfully receive someone else.  Welcomed becomes welcoming.

That is so central to who we are and what we have been called to be in this place.

 

Jesus said, “Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.”  In the three brief verses of our text this morning the word welcome appears six times.  Do you think Jesus is trying to make a point here? 

 

In this section of Matthew, Jesus is preparing his disciples for the task of being his witnesses to the world.  It is a world that will not always want to hear what Jesus has to offer.  If Jesus was crucified by the world, what will the world do with his disciples?  Matthew’s first readers were already experiencing indifference and often the opposite of welcome in their world.  But Jesus is telling his disciples that in those places where they would be welcomed, where they would be received gladly, the experience for the welcomed and the welcoming would be the equivalent of the kingdom of heaven.

 

Isn’t it true?  Have you ever experienced more joy than at those times when you have been truly welcomed into someone’s home or when you have been the host rejoicing at the entrance of guests into your home?  Have you seen the excitement and energy in children who just can’t wait for the guest to arrive?  They bounce off the walls and longingly looking out the windows.  “Is it time?  Is it time?”  It’s as though they intuitively understand what the author of Hebrews had to say about God’s communication with Abraham:  “Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some people have entertained angels without knowing it.”

 

Welcome.  “Received with pleasure and hospitality into one’s company or home; to receive or accept gladly.”

If we are about anything, that is what we are to be about here.  Invited and welcomed by Christ, we are to be inviting and welcoming, reflecting his love.  Received joyfully by Christ wherever we our in our life’s journey, we are to joyfully receive others.  Just as I am, just as you are.

 

In an increasingly hostile world, is it not the church’s role to be a place where one can, as Henri Nouwen said, “move from hostility to hospitality?”  O, I read the paper, I’ve heard the arguments, I can point to many instances where the voices of institutional religion are engendering hostility and reflecting anything but hospitality.  “If you do not believe what I believe, then you are not worthy of my God or my time.”  Excuse me, but I thought we were all unworthy.  Isn’t that why Christ came?  Listen to the wisdom of John:   “Those who say, ‘I love God ,’ and hate their brothers and sisters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen, cannot love God whom they have not seen.”  “God is love, and those who abide in love abide in God, and God abides in them.”

 

Welcomed and welcoming.  If we’re going to do anything in life, let’s do that.  And let’s do it well.

 

Amen.

 

##