The Sánchez Archives SIXTEENTH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME Year C

By
Patricia Datchuck Sánchez

Hospitality, An Art and A Service

GENESIS 18:1-10
COLOSSIANS 1:24-28
LUKE 10:38-42

Convinced that there is a discernible wisdom in A.A. Milne’s Winnie the Pooh (Dell Pub. Co., New York: 1926), I consulted the portly bear for a lesson in hospitality, the central theme of today’s first reading and gospel. Edward Bear, known to his friends as Winnie the Pooh, or Pooh for short, decided to visit Rabbit. As he drew nearer to Rabbit’s home, Pooh began to hum. “Aha”, he said, “Rabbit means Company and Company means Food and Listening-to-Me-Humming!” When he called out, “Is anybody at home?” he heard a scuffling noise and then silence. He called again, more loudly, “Is anybody home?” No!, said a voice and then added, “You needn’t shout so loud. I heard you quite well the first time!” “Oh, bother!” said Pooh. “Isn’t there anybody home at all?” The answer came back, “Nobody!”

There is, perhaps, at times, a little of Pooh and Rabbit in all of us. Pooh regarded hospitality as an opportunity for food, fun and attention. Rabbit saw it as a bothersome chore he’d rather forego. In the ancient world, however, hospitality was a finely honed art. Bruce Malina (Harper’s Bible Dictionary, Harper and Row Pub., San Francisco: 1985) described it as an intricately choreographed dance, which cannot be compared to the relative informality of modern Western practices. In the world of Abraham and of Jesus, hospitality was a carefully structured process whereby outsiders were received and transformed from strangers into guests. Given the harsh conditions of travel in the time of our early ancestors in the faith, hospitality was not only an art but a necessary virtue, the practice of which, assured the survival of those who often found themselves alone in inhospitable environments.

As is reflected in today’s first reading from Genesis, it was believed that God’s will could come to light through an act of hospitality. Abraham’s generosity as host to the three travelers was matched by a promise that he and Sarah would become the parents of a son. Because of his exemplary hospitality, Abraham has been featured in rabbinic stories as the founder of inns for travelers, the inventor and teacher of grace after meals and the missionary host who insists that his guests praise Israel’s God for their room and board or pay cash for it! (Gen. Rab. 39:14; 49:4; b. Sota 10 a-b).

Believers in Jesus were also schooled in the practice of hospitality; with warm and caring love, Jesus welcomed and tended to the needs of all, reflecting in his actions the very hospitality of God. All four gospels recount Jesus hosting and feeding the multitudes of people who came to hear his teachings. His proclamation of the kingdom was frequently symbolized by images of plentiful food and drink, freely offered at a great banquet presided over by our divine host. He described the coming reign of God as a great home with many mansions wherein all pilgrim disciples would find eternal lodging. Near the end of his earthly mission and as a means of remembering and participating in his life and death, he instituted a sacrificial meal, intended to sustain his disciples until his return.

While we await his second coming among us, we who continue to be nourished by Jesus are responsible for continuing his ministry of hospitality. Something of the quality of this ministry is offered to us in today’s Lucan gospel. Recounted only in Luke, this narrative has, for too long, been interpreted simply as a contrast between the active (Martha) and contemplative (Mary) life. Jesus was not favoring one over the other; nor was he critiquing the differing styles of hospitality offered him by the two sisters. Through his conversations with Mary and Martha, Jesus is teaching his disciples that those who minister among God’s people must be informed and supported by an active listening to his words. In other words, before we can become authentic disciples, we must first learn to be hospitable hosts and hostesses, welcoming into our hearts and attending to the good news of salvation. We are not called to be either Mary or Martha; we, who have been offered the very hospitality of Jesus at the table of the Eucharist are called to be both Mary and Martha.

GENESIS 18:1-10

When the early Christian author of the letter to the Hebrews advised his readers: “Let mutual love continue. Do not neglect hospitality, for through it some have unknowingly entertained angels” (13:1), he may have been remembering this incident in the life of Abraham. Initially unaware of the identity of his unexpected guests, Abraham would later learn that he had extended hospitality to God and two angel messengers (18:10, 13; 19:1). From the outset, however, the readers of Genesis are informed that the visitation was a divine one: “The Lord appeared to Abraham. . .” (v. 1). True to the traditions of hospitality in which he had been raised, Abraham was a gracious host. With Sarah busy baking bread, he prepared a lavish feast. Three seahs, or measures, of fine flour were equivalent to about four pecks and would have produced many more loaves of bread than three guests could possibly eat. Moreover, to slaughter a steer for so few was equally extravagant. Semitic hospitality was more prodigal than pragmatic. Thierry Maertens and Jean Frisque (Guide for the Christian Assembly, Fides Pub., Notre Dame, IN 1972) have suggested that Abraham’s lavishness should be emulated by all who would know God. If one is to enter into the mystery of God, one must kill the fabled calf for the stranger. To receive such a guest, one must be ready to give everything.

Unfortunately, the reaction of Sarah has not been included in this reading. Her response to what transpired between Abraham and the visitors underscores the marvelous nature of the event: she laughed! Hidden near the entrance of the tent, she heard one of the guests promise the aging Abraham that he would have a son (v. 10). Her laughter erupted from a sense of disbelief that what she had yearned for so many years would become a reality. More than a derisive snicker, Sarah’s laughter was also borne of awe. Of course, she believed in God; but to experience the involvement of God in her life in such a personal way was a blessing that could only be welcomed with exuberant joy.

Unlike the polytheistic myths of neighboring cultures wherein the world functioned as a playground and human beings were featured as the playthings of the gods, the Hebrew scriptures bear witness to a concerned and caring God. The divine visitation to Abraham portrays a God who chooses to become familiar with human need and who acts in such a manner as to meet those needs with graciousness and generosity. This God is daily revealed among us, visiting us in ways that are both surprising and unexpected. Abraham’s generous hospitality and willingness to accommodate and serve offer a lesson to all who would welcome such a visitation in their own lives. In his exposition of this narrative, Walter Russell Bowie (“Genesis,” The Interpreter’s Bible, Abingdon Press, Nashville 1952)) suggested that when anyone welcomes another human being with warmth and kindness, he may be nearer than he knows to a divine experience. Although it is a long way from Genesis to the gospels, the story of Abraham seems to anticipate the teaching of Jesus, “Amen I say to you, whatever you did for one of the least brothers of mine, you did for me!” (Matthew 25:40).

COLOSSIANS 1:24-28

A trip to the local pharmacy or to the self-help section of the bookstore will attest to the fact that many of us are willing to spend considerable effort, time and money in order to avoid suffering. Dozens of remedies are available to alleviate physical, emotional, psychological and even spiritual stress and discomfort. While suffering is not a good in itself, and while only a masochist would seek out suffering for its own sake, the author of today’s second reading offers a different approach to this unavoidable aspect of the human experience. He embraced suffering; he rejoiced in it and found meaning in it because he regarded whatever he had to endure as a means of solidarity with Christ. If we accept that Paul wrote the letter to the church at Colossae, his sufferings for the sake of the gospel have been well documented (see 2 Corinthians 11:24-28). If we agree with the 60 percent of biblical scholars who posit another author (Timothy? or a later disciple who wrote after Paul’s death), then we can only suppose that he suffered similarly for his dedication to Christ.

As Paul Wrightman (Paul’s Later Letters, Alba House, New York: 1984) has explained, the Colossians author was speaking figuratively when he stated that he filled up what was lacking in the sufferings of Christ (v. 24). Obviously, the saving sacrifice of Jesus was absolute and complete; therefore this statement should be understood as a metaphorical expression of the author’s incredible closeness to Christ, a closeness which enabled him to make Jesus’ suffering his own. What is lacking is not the atoning power of the cross but its manifestation in the church as a present reality. In Greek, the verb antanaplero (to fill up what is lacking) implies a duality that excludes a complete identification of the suffering of the author with those of the whole Christ. This seems to indicate that others are also called “to fill up what is lacking.” On the other hand, F. F. Bruce (Paul, Apostle of the Heart Set Free, Paternoster Press Ltd., Grand Rapids: 1991) suggested that perhaps early Christian writer believed that the more suffering he personally absorbed, the less would remain for his fellow Christians to endure. Hence, his statement: “I find joy in the suffering I endure. . . for the sake of his body, the church.”

Willing to suffer for Christ and the church, the author of Colossians also believed he had been commissioned by God to minister to the church, as the revealer of the mystery of salvation. In Colossae, the term mystery was a favorite “buzz word” for the adherents of an incipient form of gnosticism. An esoteric system of secret learning and ascetic practices, by means of which it was believed one could attain salvation, this “empty, seductive philosophy” (Colossians 2:8) claimed to incorporate the best elements of Christianity while being considerably superior to it. Aware of these false claims and of the attractiveness of such an elitist group, the author affirmed that the saving mysteries which God had revealed in Christ are fully and freely made known to all peoples. As William Barclay (“Colossians”, The Daily Study Bible, The Saint Andrew Press, Edinburgh: 1995) once noted, it was the ancient writer’s intention to warn every person, to teach every person and to present every person complete in Christ. Whereas many Jews did not ascribe to God’s universal concerns and the gnostics did not agree that all should or could be saved, Christianity understood that God’s love and mercy are for everyone. To that end, the Colossians author gave himself completely to the task of preaching the word in its fullness (v. 25). Like mystery and knowledge, fullness was another term favored by the proto-gnostics who charged that they alone possessed the secret to the fullness of enlightenment. The author of Colossians delivered a counter-charge against his opponents, claiming that it is the gospel and not any other teaching which will bring enlightenment and salvation to the world.

While the theme of hospitality which ties together the readings from Genesis and Luke is not immediately discernible in this text from Colossians, readers may notice that the author invites believers to open their hearts and minds to welcome the mystery of Christ. Those who consent, by faith, to become “hosts” of the mystery are thereby challenged to cultivate that quality of hospitality that welcomes all others in Christ.

LUKE 10:38-42

Somewhere in his prolific writings, Louis Evely warned against making prayer an “alibi” or excuse from a service. Was that what Mary was doing when she seated herself at Jesus’ feet and listened to his words while her sister Martha tended busily to all the details of hospitality? After all, what was more pleasant. . . engaging in quiet conversation with a loved friend and mentor or trying to prepare a dinner for at least a dozen men without the help of any modern kitchen equipment and/or convenience? As was mentioned previously (introduction) the lesson communicated in this short narrative was not taught by one sister or the other but by both.

In a homily on this gospel, Walter Burghardt once said (Speak the Word with Boldness, Homilies for Risen Christians, Paulist Press, New York: 1994), “the scene at Martha’s house is far richer than a contrast between Carmelites behind a grille and Jesuits running 28 colleges and universities and 43 high schools; between a mother slaving over a hot stove and her sister praying before the Blessed Sacrament; between a Trappist monk silent in the fields and a Thunderbird pilot breaking the sound barrier.”

Both Mary and Martha are teaching would-be disciples that their following of Jesus and their service in his name will require frequent spiritual refueling. Service that is not so supported can become cranky and resentful as is illustrated in Martha’s complaint to Jesus (v. 40). Without the “fuel” of prayer, silence and communion with God, service can become a crushing responsibility, a burden rather than a vocation, an annoyed grumbling, rather than a response to the invitation of God.

Luke Timothy Johnson (The Gospel of Luke, The Liturgical Press, Collegeville, MN: 1991) has explained that the two sisters together also represent the proper response to the good news and its emissaries, viz., one of welcome and receptivity. Through Jesus’ statement, “one thing only is required” (v. 42), this narrative also refines the understanding of hospitality. Some have suggested that Jesus was advising Martha to scale down her menu, offering one dish in calmness rather than several different selections in an atmosphere of chaos. However, Jesus remark had much more profound implications. The one thing only that is required is listening to God’s word. As Joseph Fitzmyer (The Gospel According to Luke, Doubleday, New York: 1985) has stated, Martha wanted to honor Jesus with an elaborate meal, but Jesus reminds her that it is more important to listen to what he has to say as did Mary. The proper service of Jesus is attention to his instruction not an elaborate provision for his physical needs.

Jane Shaberg has suggested that Mary was only an audience, not a disciple, in that what she learned from Jesus was private and not instructive for the community. Shaberg also contends that Jesus’ repetition, “Martha, Martha”. . . is the kindly voice of “love patriarchalism” and that is was Luke’s intent to undermine the leadership role of women in the church (“Luke,” The Women’s Bible Commentary, John Knox Press, Louisville: 1992). Such a suggestion might be somewhat feasible if it were Luke’s intent to contrast the two women, their attitudes, their efforts and Jesus’ responses to them. However, the two women were intended to teach one lesson; that lesson, of balancing prayer and service, was one of many which Jesus taught to his own, both women and men, en route to Jerusalem (Luke 9:51-19:27). On the journey, he detailed the demands, blessings and dangers of discipleship in such a way that his disciples, both then and now, and both female and male would be aware of and prepared for the continuously evolving challenge of the gospel. We, for our part, are to continue focusing on the one thing only that is required while busying ourselves with the details of our ministries and the fine art of hospitality.

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