The Rev. Frank Logue
King of Peace Episcopal Church
Kingsland, Georgia
September 2, 2001

A Stranger Kind of Love
Hebrews 13:1-8, Luke 14:1, 7-14

With a first quick glance, this week’s Gospel reading sounds like some practical party advice from the Son of God. It’s like a Messianic Good Housekeeping, or a divine version of Martha Stewart Living. To make the Gospel comparison worse, I received an email this week called Martha Stewart’s Tips for Texans. The email included such timeless tips as

“Always identify people in your yard before shooting them,” and

“Do not allow the dog to eat at the table no matter how good his manners are.”

It reminded me of an earlier joke email I received about Martha Stewart. A quick search of the web turned it up once again. The email gave a list of tips from Martha Stewart together with a more practical approach. It was called Martha’s Way vs. My Way. Here are three examples:

Martha's way: Stuff a miniature marshmallow in the bottom of a sugar cone to prevent ice cream drips.
My way: Just suck the ice cream out of the bottom of the cone, for Pete’s sake, you are probably laying on the couch with your feet up eating it anyway.

Martha's way: When a cake recipe calls for flouring the baking pan, use a bit of the dry cake mix instead and there won't be any white mess on the outside of the cake.
My way: Go to the bakery. They'll even decorate it for you.

And finally:

Martha's way: Now look what you can do with Alka Seltzer:
Clean a toilet. Drop in two Alka-Seltzer tablets, wait twenty minutes, brush and flush. The citric acid and effervescent action clean vitreous China.
Clean a vase. To remove a stain from the bottom of a glass vase or cruet, fill with water and drop in two Alka-Seltzer tablets. 
Polish jewelry. Drop two Alka-Seltzer tablets into a glass of water and immerse the jewelry for two minutes.
Clean a thermos bottle. Fill the bottle with water, drop in four Alka-Seltzer tablets, and let soak for an hour (or longer, if necessary).
My way: Put your jewelry, vases, and thermos in the toilet. Add some Alka-Seltzer and you have solved a whole bunch of problems at once. 

The Gospel reading for today gives us Jesus’ way. Jesus gives practical advice to both the invited guests and the hosts. Jesus tells us that when we are guests at a wedding banquet, we should not take one of the seats of honor. He warns that those who exalt themselves will be humbled, while those who humble themselves will be exalted. Then Jesus gives advice for party hosts. Jesus says that you should not invite friends, relatives, or rich neighbors to a party as they can reciprocate. Rather Jesus said one should invite the perpetually uninvited, giving examples from his own day. Jesus suggested a guest list consisting of the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. Invite people who can never repay you Jesus advises. 

Jesus knew all about being a stranger in need of hospitality. Look at the Gospel of Luke, from which we get today’s Gospel reading. From Luke chapter 9:51 through the end of the book in chapter 24, Jesus is almost always on the road. Jesus is continually the stranger to a new town in need of hospitality. Jesus also offered hospitality while on the road. Jesus would find himself surrounded by a crowd made up of people come to check out the stranger in the area who came with a new teaching and yet he would serve as the host, sitting them down and feeding the multitudes. Jesus even serves as host in others’ houses. The Last Supper was served by Jesus in a home where Jesus himself was a guest.  

Alongside this Gospel reading, we get a selection from Hebrews that sheds more light on what Jesus is teaching. The Hebrews reading says, “Let mutual love continue. Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.” The original Greek passage our translation comes from has an interesting turn of phrase. This verse from Hebrews says, “Let Philadelphia remain. Do not go on being unmindful of Philoxenia.” Philadelphia means brotherly love. Philoxenia means love of the stranger. It comes from philos meaning love and xenos meaning stranger. Throughout the New Testament, the Greek philoxenia, love of the stranger translates in hospitality in English. Hospitality is the sort of thing Martha Stewart writes about. In the Bible, hospitality is not just something we offer friends and relatives (or even rich neighbors). The Bible tells us that hospitality is something extended to strangers. The author of Hebrews tells us to continue with the brotherly love we have for one another, but in doing so, we are not to neglect to love strangers.  

Didn’t the folks in the Bible have Mamas who told them not to talk to strangers? Probably, and I hope the kids here this morning will understand that what I am saying still means that you should not talk to strangers and certainly not go anywhere with strangers. We need to dig deeper to find out what’s going on here. 

The author of Hebrews connects love of stranger to another biblical story. We are told, “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.” This is a clear reference to the story of Abraham and Sarah in the Old Testament book of Genesis for they entertained strangers who turned out to be more than they expected. Abraham saw three men approaching his tents. As any good Bedouin would do today, Abraham invited the strangers to rest and refreshment. But Abraham really went out of his way, offering to wash the three strangers’ feet, and to have a meal prepared for them. The three strangers blessed Abraham and promised the aged Abraham and Sarah that they would bear a son within the year. Abraham offered hospitality to strangers, who turned out to be angels who brought him God’s blessing.

I heard this same idea of strangers bringing a blessing repeated when I was an intern with the Anglican Church in Tanzania. During an orientation program in the Tanzanian capital of Dar Es Salaam, I was told that a visitor in the home is seen as bringing blessings, so many Tanzanians would want to host me. Once I was at work in far western Tanzania, I found out how true those words were. But in discussing it with Canon Bikaka, the priest for whom I worked, I said something about how I was told that the visitor brings a blessing, so people wanted me to come so that some good thing would then happen to them for sharing hospitality with a stranger. Bikaka explained that I had it all wrong. He told me that as a stranger invited in to share hospitality, I was the blessing. Anything that might happen later was extra. Sharing hospitality with a stranger was itself a gift. And in the back of beyond in Tanzania, I could see how that was certainly true. Inviting a stranger as a guest in the home to talk with and entertain was a gift in itself.  

But I also learned in Tanzania how it is not always clear who is the stranger. When any newcomer comes to any place, everyone they see is a stranger to them and the newcomer is the stranger to everyone they meet. Let me explain that a little better with an example. I knew that I was a stranger in a strange land so to speak, but I missed the point that the people I met could wonder how strange they appeared to me. They wondered what I thought of their homes, their food, and their customs.  

When I first arrived for the internship at St. Hilary’s Church in Kibondo, Tanzania, a four-day youth rally was beginning. One important feature of this event was the performance of numerous traditional dance groups. Each group would present a dance set to live music. The dances each illustrated some biblical lesson. These dance groups were a great example of how the Tanzanian Church has found uniquely African ways to share the Gospel. In a non-church setting these dance groups would earn money with tips from the crowd. Someone giving a tip would be expected to dance with the group with a bit of teasing back and forth with the lead dancer before giving the tip.  

During the first morning of the event, Canon Bikaka danced out and gave a tip to one dance group. Later others followed suit, much to the delight of the dancers and the crowd of more than 1,000 onlookers. Just before lunch, one group was doing a particularly good job and I decided that I too should offer a tip. I took out a suitable bill and step forward. There was an uneasiness palpable in the crowd. Then I decided not to hold back. I went over the top in presenting my tip, playing with the lead dancer and joining in the fun. The crowd went wild. The tension present a moment before exploded as everyone seemed to burst out laughing at once. I knew some folks were laughing at me just as some were laughing with me and I didn’t care. I just danced along, gave the tip and danced away.  

Later I could look back on that dance as a major event in my internship. People all over town were talking about the mzungu, the foreigner who had joined the dance. Rather than stand back and watch, I joined in. As the only white person present at the event, and often the only white face to be seen in the town of 6,000, I was an obvious stranger in their midst. But rather than treat the people and their customs as strange, I crossed the barrier dividing us and danced. During my brief stay in Tanzania, Philoxenia, love of stranger, transformed in Philadelphia, brotherly love.  

How can we possibly live out love of the stranger in our day-to-day lives? Are we to really go riding around in our cars, trolling for poor, crippled, and blind dinner guests?   Certainly, Jesus did mean for the folks he was talking with to do just that. But, inviting folks to a party because they can’t pay you back is just one dramatic way to show philoxenia, love of the stranger. Jesus didn’t say to share love with everyone you don’t know. What he was really saying was to share love with the people no one else loves.  

We have to look for ways to break down the walls that separate us from the people who have no one else or few other people to turn to. I experienced this recently with a King of Peace event. I tagged along a couple of Friday’s ago as the Tuesday Morning Women’s Bible Study went to have afternoon tea at Camden Hall, a very nice, new assisted living home in Kingsland. The afternoon tea is a daily ritual for the residents at Camden Hall. We were arriving as their guests. We were the strangers who had come into their home. And yet, during the tea, I watched as folks from King of Peace reached out to others. We had arrived as the strangers and yet it was the women from King of Peace who seemed to be offering the hospitality. It wasn’t that we visited a nursing home where patients are left, forgotten by their families. Camden Hall is not that sort of facility. But, by going and sharing some tea and finger food with people in a place where new visitors are rare, the women’s group shared philoxenia, love of the stranger. 

Our readings for today call each of us to philoxenia, the stranger kind of love. As a church, we have begun to find ways to answer that call in our own community. But philoxenia is not only a community effort. You will never experience the fullness of the love of God without strangers. Strangers bring us a new glimpse of God’s love and grace. In sharing love for a stranger, we are transformed. When we share real love, we do not bring the person to where we are or go with them back to where he or she was. In sharing real love with a stranger, we are both taken to a new place of understanding.[1] Like the visit to Camden Hall for tea or the time I danced like a fool in Tanzania, hospitality shared with a stranger is not a chore to get through, hospitality shared with a stranger can be a lot of fun. For reaching out to the stranger is not something we do simply because we hope to be blessed for it later. Reaching out to the people with whom no one else takes time can be its own reward.  

Amen.