As my ministry at Valley Covenant Church winds down, one of the sad aspects of retiring is that in the last couple of years we have had almost no opportunity to welcome anyone to our home. COVID-19 concerns caused us to play it safe and offer only one or two invitations to come to our house, let alone eat a meal. Likewise, we declined every invitation we received to dine at the homes of others, including from my sister.
So the focus of this sermon is a role which for the moment is more of a hope than a current reality in Beth’s and my lives, the hope of once again being able to serve as hosts and welcome guests to sit around our table.
After a couple years of not worrying too much about boxes sitting in the dining room and about cameras and other video recording equipment cluttering up our living room, at least for the first year, it feels a bit odd to be picking up, dusting off end tables, and rearranging the furniture into a more guest-friendly setting. And we now have a treadmill sitting in the corner of our family room where a small sofa used to sit.
If the pandemic actually winds down as Dr. Fauci suggests, we are almost ready to start welcoming guests again, just about the time we will be saying goodbye to all of you. It’s a little heartbreaking to look at it like that.
In ancient times, it seems, hosting guests, even strangers, was a more common experience than it is in our separated, privatized times. The text I’m reading Sunday, Luke 24:13-35, presents us with two disciples of Jesus hosting Him at the end of a long walking journey together. It’s an event that happened on the evening of the first Easter, and that is actually the assigned text’s place in the lectionary. But since so many churches have no worship time on Easter evening, one has to shoehorn in the “walk to Emmaus” where one can. That’s what I’m doing Sunday.
For now, I will simply point out that Cleopas’ and the other disciple’s (his wife?) hosting of Jesus rings out some our own Scriptural motivation for engaging in hospitable hosting of others. We may be reminded of Matthew 24:40 when Jesus asserts that hospitable care for those in need may regarded in this light, “just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.” The explicit direction of Hebrews 13:2 also comes to mind, “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without know it.” The possibility of thereby having Jesus as a guest is a huge encouragement toward being gracious hosts.
Something else happens in the story which also happens for us when we come not to our own tables, but to the Table of the Lord. The surprise turnabout at Luke 24:30 is that Jesus, a guest in the disciples’ home, suddenly takes on the role of host, by blessing and breaking and distributing the bread to the others there. That is exactly what happens when we bring our bread and cup to the service of Holy Communion. Even as pastor, I may break the bread and offer the cup, but in fact as Jesus makes Himself present there, He becomes the Host at that Table, welcoming and serving us all.
Praise God for our divine Host and for the privilege of being guests at His Table. May our own hosting always reflect His gracious and unlimited hospitality.