St. Christopher's Episcopal Church: Sermons
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A Sermon Preached at St. Christopher's Episcopal Church, Oak Park, IL
on the 7th Sunday after Pentecost, June 29, 2008 (Proper 8, Year A, RCL)
by the Rev. J. Paris Coffey
Jesus said, "Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me . . . 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." - Matthew 10:40 & 42
The first thing I thought of when I saw a man holding a coffee cup on the cover of today's leaflet, was the May cartoon on our church's office calendar. Featuring monthly cartoons by Episcopal priest Jay Sidebotham, the calendar reveals a man well acquainted with church issues. May, for example, depicted a little church with two new signs, the first sporting that trademark green circle displaying the words, "St. Arbucks." Underneath (planted squarely by the Episcopal red doors) a second sign boasts, "The most heavenly coffee served after services." In front of this stand three parishioners challenging a fourth with the question, "When you asked the rector to develop more welcoming signage, is this really what you had in mind?"
Presumably the one being challenged is the senior warden, who holds her chin high, perhaps thinking that church shoppers ARE actually looking for good cup of coffee. After all, Garrison Keillor claims that coffee is the Third Sacrament for Episcopalians, adding, "If it's 100 degrees, with 90 percent humidity, Episcopalians still have coffee after the service." He's right, of course, and yet the truth is that no matter how great the coffee, it's not always welcoming. In fact, church coffee hours can be downright intimidating; especially for someone new to the church, relatively new or just plain shy. Often strangers are left to fend for themselves in coffee hour while old friends circle the wagons of their various church groups.
It's not that church members are snooty. They just want to catch up. They want the latest news from friends, to touch base about parish business or perhaps are shy themselves. Whatever the case, though, such inattentiveness to strangers is ungodly, meaning it does not emulate God. To be sure, it's common in social settings, and yet the church is supposed to be more than just another social gathering; it's supposed to be a place where the hospitality of God is practiced.
This is what our members claim when we say, "The Episcopal Church Welcomes You!" What's more, it's what Jesus claims when he says in today's Gospel, "Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me . . . and whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple . . . will (not) lose their reward."
Scripture mandates the practice of welcome - the ancient art of hospitality - which for both Jews and Christians has always been part of who we are. The Old Testament reading reminded us of this just a few weeks ago when Abraham welcomed three strangers who turned out to be angles. Today the New Testament reminds us that hospitality is a moral imperative that includes not only welcoming God into our lives but welcoming and caring for God's "little ones," God's vulnerable. In biblical times this was imperative because in a dry, nomadic region where there was no Motel 6 or drive-thru Starbucks, travelers depended on the kindness of strangers. More importantly, though, it was imperative because our ancestors were strangers once themselves who survived by the grace of God carried out by humankind. Hospitality, after all, is inherent in God's nature but also in ours if we are created in God's image.
And we are. We are created to welcome and care for one another, including the vulnerable among us. This means foreigners, outsiders, the marginalized -strangers. Not just strangers, though, in the abstract, but the person in front of us right now in all of his or her concreteness, eccentricities and particularity: the visitor who comes to OUR church, the wall flower in OUR parish hall, the new neighbor who moves onto OUR street or homeless man knocking on OUR door.
Such welcome can be risky - not just in the literal sense where strangers (as we're taught as children) can be dangerous - but in the spiritual sense where welcome means having to make room for different ideas, needs, language, even style of worship. Hospitality, though, is the practice by which the church will stand or fall, and so I encourage you this morning to PRACTICE the art of hospitality, teach it to your children and work to make welcome the heart of your own life and our life together as the Church - the body of Christ.
Invite someone you don't know well to dinner, for example. Send a card - not just once but again and again - to the many who are ill, grieving a loss or going through a tough time. Call a member you haven't seen for awhile - whether you know them well or not - to find out how they're doing. Or offer a cup of coffee to a newcomer, even if it IS one hundred degrees in the shade. In fact, offer them a cup of cold water, for in truth it's not the coffee that matters. It isn't even the signage out front. Rather, it's the sign of the Spirit within, and so I pray this morning that God will open our eyes and hearts to the needs of friend and stranger alike, making known God's hospitality through OUR welcome of one another.
Amen.