“Holy Encounters” – A sermon based on Genesis 18.1-15

Last week, the Lord tells Abram, “I will bless you that you will be a blessing.”

Abram takes him at his word.

Immediately before the passage we just heard today, in Genesis 17, the Lord reiterates his covenant, “You shall be the ancestor of a multitude of nations. No longer shall your name be Abram, but your name shall be Abraham, for I have made you the ancestor of a multitude of nations.” 

And then the Lord says, “As for you…Every male among you shall be circumcised.”

Abraham does not hesitate, “That very day (99 year old) Abraham and his (13 year old) son Ishmael were circumcised,  and all the men of his house.”

Ouch!

So, imagine… 99 year old Abraham, just circumcised, in the heat of the day, is not inside his tent resting and healing. Instead, he is sitting at the entrance of his tent, waiting to welcome any passersby who are in need of refreshment.

Abraham doesn’t wait until God’s promise to him of heirs is fulfilled to be a blessing for others. He doesn’t wait for the perfect circumstances to serve others.  He recognizes that he and his family have something to share and they are ready and eager to give it. 

Perhaps that is the essence of the spiritual life and a secret to a good, long life – being open, available, ready and eager to share and serve others in need. 

Sadly, these postures, these practices are not the norm in our culture, like they were in the time of Abraham.  

Especially since the pandemic, rather than a posture of openness to others, we Americans have increasingly become a people of closed borders, locked doors and reticent hearts.

Rather than being open to new people, we can too readily believe what politicians and media tell us about those “others.”  We are often quick judge and slow to get curious. (For example, a black man who decided to wear a MAGA hat to see what kind of response he’d receive, quickly realized that even family and friends dismissed and shunned him without asking why he was wearing the hat; white people wearing MAGA hats made all sorts of presumptions that they must believe exactly the same things. The man was surprised that no one was curious about why he was wearing the hat.)

Rather than being available, we have become a culture of relentless busyness and persistent distraction. (“Gotta go! Sorry, I can’t… too busy!!” Demonstrate scrolling.)

Rather than being eager to share, we have become a culture afraid to be generous lest we do not have enough for ourselves. 

Rather than being eager to serve those in need, we, as a nation, are turning our backs on immigrants, foreign allies, and the poor in this country and around the world. What does it say about us that the ICE budget – typically about 10 billion dollars a year – was recently increased by 75 billion dollars and what had been a 60 billion USAID budget was initially slashed before being restored to 50 billion dollars?

As a culture, we are not like Abraham, open and available, waiting at the door to welcome the stranger. 

Our doors have slammed shut. 

The lingering impact of the pandemic and fear-based, anti-immigrant, anti-DEI, anti LGBTQ+ political messaging is like an invisible, spiritual sickness. It is an affront to a God whose image is found in all people. 

(Though maybe, just maybe – God willing! –  the experience of the World Cup coming to the U.S. – with athletes and fans from around the world – might help shift this trend.)

I understand the desire to back away from other people. When I arrived at Holy Wisdom Monastery on May 26th for a solo Deep Breath clergy retreat, there was a part of me that felt ready to be a hermit for the week – eager not to talk to another soul, except God.  So, when my orientation to the monastery began, and another clergy person, Rev. Jake, showed up, my heart sank. When we were told that our meals would be held in the sister’s dining room with other guests of the monastery and that conversation was encouraged, my heart sank further. “Darn,” I thought. “I’m going to have to meet new people.” I am not proud to admit this.

But, something happened a few hours later at Vespers, the evening prayer service.  The sisters, retreatants, and other guests were gathered in the Oratory with rows of chairs facing each other.  Jake was sitting directly across from me.  At one point in the service, I noticed that he had broken down in tears.  When the service ended, we greeted each other and he asked, “Can I have a hug?” Which, of course, I gave him.  I told Jake that I noticed he was crying and that if he wanted to talk, I was available and if he wanted space, I understood. He said he didn’t even know why he was crying; that there was just something about being in that space that moved him deeply.  I felt the same. From that moment forward, we became spiritual companions, friends. 

At the heart of Benedictine spirituality – the tradition at Holy Wisdom –  is hospitality. The Rule of St. Benedict which structures community life is clear:  “All are to be welcomed as Christ.”  And that is what I felt there, a wide, open-hearted welcome.  

Just one example – Every day, before lunch and dinner, one of the sisters would gather us in a circle to introduce ourselves.  Many of the guests might be staying for just a night or two, so there were people coming in and out of the retreat center regularly.  Next, the chef explained what was on the menu, with special attentiveness to what was gluten free, what had nuts etc. Then, a blessing was offered for the food, chef, visitors, and the needs of the world.  Our meals exceeded expectations. We were treated as honored guests.

Over lunch and dinner, it was fascinating to hear what brought each person to the monastery, to hear something of their spiritual journeys.  There was a sense of ease and curiosity in our conversations. Very quickly, strangers became friends. Some conversations were so fascinating that we lingered at the table, delighting in the warm and peaceful feelings that were created. Many of the people I met were fascinated to learn about our independent, interdenominational church that had welcomed Vivekananda and continues to be open to the wisdom found in the world’s great religious and spiritual traditions. After each meal, nourished and satisfied physically, socially, and spiritually,  we went our separate ways.  

Hospitality – creating opportunities to welcome old friends and new is core to who we are called to be as Christians, to who we are as a church.  I have heard again and again from congregants who are new to this community that it makes a difference to receive the kind of welcome Rev. ElizaBeth and our greeters offer, many of whom are the leaders of this church.  

One of my proudest moments as pastor of this church happened on March 25th, when as a community we welcomed our neighbors from Temple Ahavat Achim for the STEP Benefit.  They, too, repeatedly said how warmly welcomed they felt. We are blessed to be able to welcome Hindu pilgrims throughout the year and especially in August when we celebrate Swami Vivekananda’s historic visit to this church in 1893 and 1894. They, too, are grateful for the welcome they receive here. 

Friends, to turn around the trends of fear, loneliness, isolation, greed, and scape-goating that are eroding our culture, that are eroding our spirits, we must find ways to be open, available, ready to share and serve others; to be hospitable and gather around the table with strangers; to turn strangers into friends. 

At this time of year, we are often welcoming back members of our community who spend the summer here and live the rest of the year in other places. It is a time of year when many of us will be welcoming family and friends to visit.  

It can be a challenge to remember that all of our visitors – visitors to this church, visitors to our homes – especially the ones who push our buttons – bear the image of God; that our time with guests can be holy encounters. 

So, as summer begins I’d like to give us a little practice of offering hospitality to each other (similar to what I experienced around the table at Holy Wisdom)… In a group of 3-4 people (where everyone doesn’t know everyone well) in person and on Zoom, recognizing this as an opportunity for a holy encounter, please simply share: 

1. Your name
2. Where did you grow up?
3. Where do you live now?
4. (Instead of asking, why HW?) Why did you come to the AVC this morning? 

(N.B. In the time of reflection that followed, people shared how easy it was to find common ground with others and how much they appreciated meeting new people.)