Repaid at the resurrecton ...

The modern world has many differences from the first century, but one of most extreme differences is the concept of hospitality. In our world, hospitality is an industry. For business people, vacationers, or pilgrims, there is a vast network of hotels and restaurants to care for the needs of the weary traveler. For very sick or injured people, there are modern hospitals (the world hospital comes from the world hospitality, but we rarely make that connection today).

Yet despite the widespread availability of these institutions, not everyone can access them. Even though I am hardly a poor person, there are some hotels, for example, that are so expensive I could hardly justify the cost of staying there. Some are so extravagant that I could not even afford them if I wanted to stay there. And for the poor person, how much more limited might their choices be? Or, consider the case of hospitals. In principle, they are open to everyone, but the reality is that many people, even in our affluent country, cannot afford the cost of medical care in these institutions. In almost every hotel or hospital, despite our insistence that all Americans are equal, a person with a lot of resources (money, connections, power) can obtain significantly better care than can someone of moderate or poor means.

Which is a lot like the first century Greco-Roman world. In that world, you extended hospitality to someone who could repay, either by reciprocating with meals or shelter, or by exerting their power or influence on your behalf. Patrons hosted their clients as one way of showing their “generosity” and power. Ambitious hosts would invite people of wealth and power to their homes trying to get a toehold on the social ladder. Does this seem consistent with biblical values?

Enter Jesus. He presents a view of hospitality that is more in keeping with the notion of Jewish hospitality. The outsider, the pilgrim, the poverty-stricken, the widow, and the orphan are to be cared for and not allowed to be destitute. Hear the words of Jesus about hospitality:

He said also to the one who had invited him, "When you give a luncheon or a dinner,
do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors,
in case they may invite you in return, and you would be repaid.
But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind.
And you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you,
for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous."
Luke 14:12-14 - NRSV

Jesus turns the Greco-Roman and the American world views on their heads. Christian hospitality is shown to those need resources, not those who already have them in abundance. Food, shelter, and clothing are available to everyone, regardless of social, economic, or political standing. Hospitality is for the poor and the powerless.

In our world, who are the weak, the marginalized and the poor? In my book, children are at the top of that list.

Do we see our work as hospitality? Hospitality is probably not a word that we would normally use, but biblical hospitality is precisely what Westview is all about.

As we begin our week, let's spend our devotional time thinking about about the concept of hospitality and how it applies to our ministry. What insight does this notion bring to our thinking and to our practices?

Blessings,

Ron

Who's prejudiced?

He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt: "Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, 'God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.' But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, 'God, be merciful to me, a sinner!' I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted."
Luke 18:9-14 - NRSV

At first pass, the words of Jesus might have us think that this parable is about those who are humble before God, and those who are not. "For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted." And that point would not be unimportant. But this story is about much more than the relationships between humans and God.

Luke is careful to provide an introduction to the parable that gives the real interpretive clue here: "He told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt." The Pharisee is the "self-righteous" soul looking down at the "sinful" tax collector. The Pharisee's sin of pride against God is compounded by his arrogance toward his fellow worshiper, his fellow human being.

We can see the Pharisee speaking pridefully toward the tax collector, but in what way is the tax collector's treatment of the Pharisee humble? The tax collector stayed on the margins, on the boundary, and would not even come close to the other worshipers because of his self-perceived unworthiness. The Pharisee is standing by himself, too, but it seems apparent that he is doing so to avoid the contamination of his lesser company, and not as an act of humility. It seems intuitively obvious to say that we don't want to be like the Pharisee, but rather like the tax collector in this parable.

But are we innocent of similar prideful and demeaning acts? Are we so innocent of prejudice? I think that it is rare that we totally avoid these things. Let me demonstrate.

As most of us read this parable, we tend to read it with a certain unrealized prejudice. When we read or hear the word "Pharisee," we are already prepared to jump to the conclusion that something unpleasant is about to be said or done by that person. But is that what Jesus intended? We would readily admit, based on what we have heard about first century tax collectors, that the tax collector is totally out of character for tax collectors when he behaves in this pious, reverent, and humble manner. This is not what we would expect from a tax collector, after all.

Why then do we paint an entire fellowship of Jewish people, the Pharisees, with broad paint strokes as arrogant and prideful? I believe that this is a result of an interpretive prejudice that we have learned over the past centuries from the language of others. If the tax collector is out of character for his class, then why can't we see that this is what Jesus intended for us to see about the Pharisee as well? For the sake of the clarity and strength of the parable, doesn't it seem much more likely that the people to whom Jesus spoke the parable would be astonished that a well-behaved, Torah-loving, daily-prayerful Pharisee would behave in this prideful way? The contrast in character would make the wrongness of the behavior stand out that much more clearly.

The problem is that we tend to believe and use the language that we have been given instead of looking hard at the world around us and using our own judgment. Since we don't see a lot of real, Jewish Pharisees running around in our contemporary world, how does this affect us as we live our life this week? Let me give you one example.

Consider the rhetoric that we use about the poor in America. "They don't want to work." "Why should they work all day long and make less than they would if they were on welfare." "This is America: if they would only pull themselves up by their bootstraps, they could find a way to make a living and move up in the world." "They are shiftless and lazy." Are these statements true? Perhaps sometimes, but usually these arrogant truisms tell other people more about us than they do about the people of whom we speak.

This is especially risky for those who work with at-risk children. Yes, the behavior of these children frequently makes us cranky. But how much of that behavior is the result of severe traumas inflicted much earlier in their life? How much of that behavior is the result of unintentional trauma that we inflict by the names we call their behavior, or the pigeonholes we place them in because of that behavior? Should we be surprised if they behave like outsiders if we treat them as outsiders? I don't think that any of us does this intentionally, but aren't there ways that this kind of behavior sneaks up on us?

How about the families of these children? Yes, some of these people drive us nuts. But how might we be driving them nuts? Are we really always innocent? What are we doing that plays into their fears without realizing it? Do we think that it might be scary for a parent, already afraid that she is losing her child, to hear that her baby would rather spend his holiday with you than with her? I know how I would feel about that. How about their ability to come see their kids? Do we ever bemoan how seldom they visit these boys that we love? But can you imagine how difficult it is to support two other kids as a single parent while holding a barely-above minimum wage job? And then have to buy gas at $4.00 a gallon to get your piece of junk over 100 miles away from home and back?

We have to be careful that our good intentions don't lead us to unintentional arrogance and blindness. We need to remember that we're not just one generation away from poverty, but that if circumstances were to change, we could be just weeks or months away from that same kind of debilitating poverty ourselves. "But for the grace of God, there go I."

Which leads us back to the Pharisee. What if the Pharisee had prayed, "Lord, but for your grace, I would know the heartbreak of this tax collector. Show me how to help him." How much different would the world have been. If we can pray and enact this kind of prayer about those whom our lives touch, how much more powerful will our ministry be? How different will our world become?