April 16, 2015

“The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, ‘Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.’ Jesus ask, “Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.” Luke 10:35-37

Recently, the pastors of the West Shore Conference decided to preach a series of sermons based on themes that thriving, growing congregations are practicing on a regular basis. One of those themes is “Radical Hospitality”. Radical hospitality involves an active desire to invite, welcome, receive, and care for those who are strangers. The story of the Good Samaritan is a good story which teaches us five lessons about Hospitality:

Hospitality is based on need – not on worth
The man who is attacked in our lesson from Luke is unknown – unnamed – a nobody – his true identity is unknown. But, he does have one identity: he is someone in need. The ones who walk past don’t necessarily feel that they are above helping him, they just believe that it is beneath them to help in this situation – too risky based on their religious circumstances – it just isn’t worth it. They don’t want to get involved. Hospitality my brothers and sisters is based on need – period – it is not necessarily about whether it is convenient for us at the time. We need to be ready to welcome strangers into our lives, and into our churches. And it affects how you live because it demands that you take risks in many different situations – that you step out of your comfort zone and are willing to “Welcome anyone into your midst”.

Hospitality involves Compassion
The Greek word for compassion is splagnizomai – and it is an ancient word that literally means the inner parts of a sacrificial animal. It means the guts. Compassion is the inner anxious desire to help someone that comes from deep within us – from our gut – that gut wrenching feeling that keeps us up at night worrying about our kids, our parents, and those who are in need. This is the compassion that the Samaritan felt – it is what the people who lived near Kitty Genovese apparently lacked. No one felt compelled to get up, go outside their apartment, and to “invite” this woman, this woman who was desperately “in need” into their home. Compassion is what caused the Good Samaritan to stop – compelled him not just to walk by, but to do something. When did our society become so jaded that we have lost the ability to feel compassion for one another deep within our very being?

Hospitality does something
The gut wrenching feeling turns into action – and in particular Radical Hospitality moves in two directions simultaneously. First we hear the word of Christ to love God, and to love our neighbor – Christ’s word, dwelling inside us, creates genuine, gut wrenching compassion – a compassion that, secondly, compels and directs and moves us outwardly to do something. Inward the word increases our knowledge of the need to help, and outward, we act – you see a need and you do something to “care” for someone, even if it is risky to your reputation, to your time, or to your finances. It means that you get your hands dirty – it means that there is a cost involved. When did we ever get the idea that ministry is always clean, orderly, and convenient? Which leads me to number four…

Hospitality will cost something
The Samaritan doesn’t just stop – he gives of his own resources (wine oil and bandages), his time (he was on his way to somewhere), and his money (and it is a generous amount). Again, compassion means we “stop”, “drop what we are doing”, and “do”.

Hospitality demonstrates our relationship to God
The lawyer’s question of “Who is my neighbor?” has been turned around by Jesus to “You decide who acted like a neighbor?” Jesus turns the question from “Jesus tell me who I must love?” to Jesus asking “Who do you think showed Radical Hospitality to his fellow brother or sister in need?” If we base our faith on serving and loving only the lovable (and as such the ones we determine to be worthy on our own standards) – then our faith is empty and our relationship with God is empty and compassionless. Our relationship with G*d should not always be “Us” “taking” something: “I took communion” — “I took the bulletin home” — “the sermon gave me nothing to “take” into the week coming up”. Instead, we are people who “receive” Grace when we do not deserve it – and we need to turn that into “receiving” people into our midst who have nothing to give us in return.

Pastor Dave