I was a stranger ...

As is our custom, today a scripture for our time with God. Dwell in these words of the Lord:

When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him,
then he will sit on the throne of his glory.
All the nations will be gathered before him,
and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd
separates the sheep from the goats,
and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left.

Then the king will say to those at his right hand,
'Come, you that are blessed by my Father,
inherit the kingdom prepared for you
from the foundation of the world;
for I was hungry and you gave me food,
I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink,
I was a stranger and you welcomed me,
I was naked and you gave me clothing,
I was sick and you took care of me,
I was in prison and you visited me.'

Then the righteous will answer him,
'Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food,
or thirsty and gave you something to drink?
And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you,
or naked and gave you clothing?
And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?'

And the king will answer them,
'Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these
who are members of my family, you did it to me.'
Then he will say to those at his left hand,
'You that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire
prepared for the devil and his angels;
for I was hungry and you gave me no food,
I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink,
I was a stranger and you did not welcome me,
naked and you did not give me clothing,
sick and in prison and you did not visit me.'

Then they also will answer,
'Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty
or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison,
and did not take care of you?'

Then he will answer them,
'Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these,
you did not do it to me.'

And these will go away into eternal punishment,
but the righteous into eternal life.
Matthew 25:31-46 - NRSV

Blessings,

Ron

A stranger returns ...

Shiann brings today’s devotional thought. Be sure and read through the scripture to the story that follows:

Here is the reading from Deuteronomy 10 from The Message:

So now Israel, what do you think GOD expects from you?
Just this: Live in his presence in holy reverence, follow the road
he sets out for you,
love him, serve GOD, your God, with everything you have in you,
obey the commandments and regulations of GOD that
I'm commanding you today—live a good life.

Look around you: Everything you see is GOD's—
the heavens above and beyond, the Earth, and everything on it.
But it was your ancestors who GOD fell in love with;
he picked their children—that's you!—
out of all the other peoples. That's where we are right now.
So cut away the thick calluses from your heart
and stop being so willfully hardheaded.
GOD, your God, is the God of all gods,
he's the Master of all masters,
a God immense and powerful and awesome.
He doesn't play favorites, takes no bribes,
makes sure orphans and widows are treated fairly,
takes loving care of foreigners by seeing that
they get food and clothing.

You must treat foreigners with the same loving care—
remember, you were once foreigners in Egypt.
Reverently respect GOD, your God,
serve him, hold tight to him,
back up your promises with the authority of his name.
He's your praise! He's your God!
He did all these tremendous, these staggering things
that you saw with your own eyes.
When your ancestors entered Egypt,
they numbered a mere seventy souls.
And now look at you—
you look more like the stars in the night skies in number.
And your GOD did it.

Ron has been speaking from Deuteronomy 10 in our devotionals about entertaining strangers - making them feel welcome, safe, and loved. He has reminded us that we are to do this as families and as a missionary community at Westview.

I recently got and opportunity to see this concept come full circle. We had a young man show up from out of the blue, who had left our ranks exclaiming himself a stranger some years ago. He had rejected our community of his own free will. It was a very painful disconnect for Troy and me. We mourned his leaving for quite some time, and never knew how he was doing. I searched for him on Facebook, MySpace, and Google. His well-being has been a matter of prayer since his departure (in 2003). Six years later he returns to visit with us: his eyes are clear, he claims a job and attendance in a church. He states “I love y’all” before he leaves the room. Although he removed himself from this community some years ago, he now feels safe enough to express his love and care to a room full of people who represent that same community.

I can’t tell you how much this filled up my heart. I was afraid this particular boy was in prison or even dead. It was almost as if a piece of my heart got to come back home. What a picture of the heart of God this day was for me!! I regularly thank Him for these blessings, which are big to me.

It is infrequent that we get to see and hear the stories of our guys after leaving unless a staff member stays for an extended period of time. So accept this story as one that encourages you to keep on. God’s faithfulness is so immense.

Blessings,

Shiann

For you were strangers ...

As Moses prepares to part from his people the last time, he speaks
these words to help them understand how to serve the Lord.
His words still speak wisdom to us today:

So now, O Israel, what does the Lord your God require of you?
Only to fear the Lord your God, to walk in all his ways, to love him,
to serve the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul,
and to keep the commandments of the Lord your God
and his decrees that I am commanding you today, for your own well-being.

Although heaven and the heaven of heavens
belong to the Lord your God,
the earth with all that is in it,
yet the Lord set his heart in love on your ancestors alone
and chose you, their descendants after them,
out of all the peoples, as it is today.
Circumcise, then, the foreskin of your heart,
and do not be stubborn any longer.
For the Lord your God is God of gods and Lord of lords,
the great God, mighty and awesome,
who is not partial and takes no bribe,
who executes justice for the orphan and the widow,
and who loves the strangers, providing them food and clothing.
You shall also love the stranger,
for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.

You shall fear the Lord your God; him alone you shall worship;
to him you shall hold fast, and by his name you shall swear.
He is your praise; he is your God,
who has done for you these great and awesome things
that your own eyes have seen.
Your ancestors went down to Egypt seventy persons;
and now the Lord your God has made you
as numerous as the stars in heaven.
Deuteronomy 10:12-22 – NRSV

Grace and peace,

Ron

A stranger in a strange land ...

Hear the word of God:

But Moses fled from the presence of Pharaoh
and settled in the land of Midian;
and he sat down by a well.

A prince of Egypt has become a stranger and pauper in a foreign land.
Moses is not a young man, but he is a troubled soul with family and social issues.

Now the priest of Midian had seven daughters;
and they came to draw water,
and filled the troughs to water their father's flock.
Then the shepherds came and drove them away,
but Moses stood up and helped them, and watered their flock.
When they came to Reuel their father, he said,
"Why have you come back so soon today?"

Isn’t it odd that Reuel expects this chore to take longer?
Does he expect the girls to be harassed by the other shepherds?
Does he know that they would have to try more than once
to get the job done?
Or is this just an odd way to find a husband for one of his seven girls?

So they said, "An Egyptian delivered us
from the hand of the shepherds;
and what is more, he even drew the water for us
and watered the flock."
And he said to his daughters, "Where is he then?
Why is it that you have left the man behind?
Invite him to have something to eat."

It’s not just that Moses delivers the girls from their tormentors;
he also draws the water for them.
And since he doesn’t have anything else to do,
he waters the sheep while he’s at it.
So Reuel’s question is obvious:
“If a man would do this for you, where is he?”
In other words, where are your manners?
Where is your hospitality?

And Moses was willing to dwell with the man,
and he gave his daughter Zipporah to Moses.
Then she gave birth to a son, and he named him Gershom,
for he said, "I have been a sojourner in a foreign land."

What does this episode tell us about the character of Moses?
Yes, he is strong and capable of both hard work and defense.
But there is something deeper than that.
Why was Moses by the well in the first place?
Isn’t it because, in a moment of passion, he did away with the life
Of a taskmaster who would oppress his people?
He won’t sit still and watch a crew of rowdy shepherds harass
Or oppress a covey of girls, either.
Moses has a deep-seated sense of social justice.
Moses hates oppression.
The shepherds ought to be thankful to get away alive.
Others have not. Others will not.
This virtue is why, I think, God picks this sojourner in a foreign land.
Moses understands what it is like to be the stranger,
what it is like to be powerless,
what it is like to be hurting,
what it is like to be an outcast.
How can our memories of belonging, and not,
Empower our ministry with children?

Blessings,

Ron

Exodus 2:15-22 - NASB

The stranger in our midst ...

Today, a prayer:

A Prayer for the Stranger in our Midst

O Lord,
we thank you for those loving souls
who welcomed us among your people.
Who helped us feel your welcome
and joy at our arrival in their midst.

O gracious Host,
help us to be loving souls
who welcome the stranger
into the midst of your people.
Who help the children know your welcome
as you invite them into your presence.
May you never have need to remind us
to let them come to you.
Instead may we point the way in between
our rising up and laying down,
our going out and coming in.

O Lord,
we thank you for those strong souls
who helped us to feel safe in their presence.
Who helped us understand the safety
behind you, our shield, our rock;
under the shade of your wing;
surrounded by the power of your mighty arm.

O mighty King,
help us to be a safe haven
for the widow, the orphan, the outcast.
May the danger that they bring with them
neither cause us to recoil in fear,
nor tempt us to build walls that insulate
instead of bridges that communicate.
Strengthen, O vulnerable One, our hearts
so that we may offer so secure a safety
as to call them to behave safely.

O Lord,
we thank you for those loving souls
whose loving actions helped us see
the depths of your unfathomable love.
Who helped us understand that
surrendering to your love allows that love
to conquer all things, especially those fears
that cause us to feel unsafe or cast out.

O unshakable Love,
Help us to love the unlovable
with a love that mirrors your love for us.
May neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers,
nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers,
nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation
separate a child, a stranger, an outcast one
from our love as your people,
anymore than those dear ones can be separated
from the love of your Son.

May we welcome them to the table of your Son,
make them safe by the power of your Spirit,
and love them with your love, O Lord.

Amen.

Grace and peace,

Ron

A sign of contradiction ...

The words of Christine Pohl have been formative in my thinking about what it means to be a community. As we meditate on what it means to be God’s people in this world, in our ministry, hear her words of wisdom:

The contemporary church hungers for models of a more authentic Christian life in which glimpses of the Kingdom can be seen and the promise of the Kingdom is embodied. More than words and ideas, the world needs living pictures of what a life of hospitality could look like. Over sixty years ago, Peter Maurin wrote that “we need Houses of Hospitality to show what idealism looks like when it is practiced.” Communities of hospitality combine in daily experience the rigor and sacrifice, joy and empowerment, of faithful living. Many of those interviewed commented that living in a community of hospitality was the hardest and best thing they had ever done.

A community which embodies hospitality to strangers is “a sign of contradiction, a place where joy and pain, crises and peace are closely interwoven.” Friendships forged in hospitality contradict contemporary messages about who is valuable and “good to be with,” who can “give life to others.” Such communities are also sign of hope “that love is possible, that the world is not condemned to a struggle of oppressors and oppressed, that class and racial warfare is not inevitable.” The gift of hope embedded in these communities of hospitality nourishes, challenges, and transforms guests, hosts, and sometimes, the larger community.

Not every church member would choose the substantial life-style changes that community living requires. However, there is much to be learned about hospitality from these intentional and intense community settings that can be applied to more conventionally structured households and churches. These communities have found ways to cope with the awkwardness, risk, and high demands associated with hospitality to strangers. They have developed structures that allow an ancient practice to thrive in the postmodern world. None set out to be an exemplar of Christian hospitality, but because of their long-term viability and vitality, a number of them do offer a model to which others are drawn.

I believe that the faith community at Westview is one such exemplar of Christian hospitality. Like our ancestors in the first century church, and in congregations in the second and third centuries, together we are discovering what it means to live sacrificially and counterculturally so as to shelter the stranger and open our doors to the outcast.

May our hearts be lifted up today as we see the ways that we boldly embody the hospitality of the Kingdom. May we be challenged to be better and do better as we encounter the places where we still struggle.

Grace and peace,

Ron

*Christine Pohl, Making Room: Recovering Hospitality as a Christian Tradition, pp. 10-11.

Receiving hospitality

Some years ago I traveled in Panama on a mission trip with a group of teenage youth. We walked through a neighborhood (not the poorest, and not the richest, but nonetheless, people of very humble means) inviting the children and their parents to come to a gospel meeting that the local church was having every evening. These families were very, very poor in comparison to United States families. In the middle of one particularly steamy afternoon, one of the families we were visiting showed their hospitality to my two young companions and myself by inviting us to share some refreshment with them. I politely declined, but the head of the household would not hear of it. One of the children was dispatched to get a Coca-Cola, and the mother went into the corner that was a kitchen to prepare something. Perhaps this family remembered the words of the Hebrew writer:

Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.
- Hebrews 13:2 - NRSV

We certainly knew that we were no angels. If God had given us wings, we might have been too tempted to fly away. Out of embarrassment. I looked over into the eyes my partners to see if they understood just what was about to happen. Both gave me a quick nod of comprehension. We had been clearly warned, more than once, to be careful about what we ate and drank. The local water supply was such that food or drink prepared from it could easily inflict a fairly severe physical revenge upon us. But these young people understood clearly the issues. Whatever we were about to eat, however carefully prepared, however tasty, it held the potential to make us all really ill. On top of that, the cost of this afternoon's refreshment was easily equivalent to several hours' worth of labor for the father. And because of the brevity of our stay, we knew that it was highly unlikely that we would ever be able to repay them. Yet we all understood that to decline would be to inflict the worst possible insult upon this humble family.

We smiled. They smiled. We ate. It was delicious. We drank. It was cold. We smiled bigger. We gave them our sincere thanks, and continued on with our afternoon's work. God, in his traveling mercies, protected us from any unintended negative consequences. Instead he filled our hearts with fond memories of warm conversation and cool refreshment in the midst of a hot day. All of this with a beautiful family who clearly understood the biblical notion of hospitality.

Hear the words of Jesus:

"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

Now, it wasn't Sunday when we had our Panamanian banquet, and the elements of the meal were not those we use for the Lord's Supper, but I hope that we all realize that there was something holy about that meal. The sacred and the mundane are not separated, not encased, but connected permeably, so that each of these flows from one to the other in our lives. Partaking of the bread at the Lord's Table can never be completely removed from whether or not we share hunger-preventing bread with the poor whom we encounter. When things are right, the richer will share with the poorer. The girls and I would certainly have been much more comfortable if we could have treated this humble family to the banquet of their lives, but God chose to use their generosity to teach us a lesson about what real hospitality really means.

One of these days I hope that God repays this family for their kindness. Something bigger than a Coca-Cola and a snack. Perhaps it will please God at the end of time (or the beginning of eternity?) when we are all in heaven to allow the girls and I to bring a meal to the heavenly table of this beautiful family. Not that we could or would be the host; no, that will be God's place. The girls and I will merely be the servants of God, showing respect, showing hospitality, bringing providence, where both hospitality and providence are due.

Who will want to be at the table with us?

Grace and peace,

Ron