And hospitality is not merely the act of greeting or catering to guests; it’s ensuring that an environment is pleasant – favourable to be in.
And God’s hospitality is what we have already received – and that we’re invited to extend.
Yet: our egos can get in the way. And when that happens, things start to fall apart. A smattering of meanness or a sprinkle of dishonesty can change an entire community from being a welcoming place to a place that’s… inhospitable.
And – as has always happened – God steps in to remind us of our option to return. To be accountable for our own actions, and to commit to a better, healthier way forward.
The passage from Jeremiah is one of those times that God steps in with a message. And God does not mince words with the prophet, when God says that even the heavens will be shocked at the TWO evils being enacted by God’s own people.
These are harsh words – then and now.
So let’s consider those two evils.
The first is forsaking God. Forsaking is not just forgetting - it's about intentionally abandoning. This is not something casually slipping from the mind – we all have those moments - this is the purposeful choice to put God behind you; to refuse to acknowledge God. It’s a disowning of God - a complete estrangement.
Ouch.
Obviously, this is not good. Because when we reject God, it means we're putting ourselves in a higher place than the Almighty. That we're turning our backs on the Divine. That we're acting as though we've got it all sorted out - we don't need God anymore.
Which reminds me of a joke - some scientist had decided that they could master all the mechanics of life, and so they had a chat with God. "Thanks ever so much" they said "but we can take it from here. We can create life on our own. We don't need you anymore."
To which God replies "really? Hmm. Tell me more."
The scientist goes into great detail, saying that Genesis was the inspiration - life from earth - adam literally means of the earth - so the scientist goes on about the biological and chemical aspects that they've been working on in the lab - they can now take dirt - DIRT! - from anywhere, clone the necessary particles, and grow life in a petri dish. Ain't it grand. Starting from the very earth, they can create a human life from dirt - like in Genesis - so God has become obsolete.
So God says to this person "okay. Humour me. Let's have a contest - right now, right here - let's both build life."
So the scientist is all ready, all full of themself, and starts to reach down and pick up a handful of the soil...
at which point God says "Um, no. That's my dirt. You get your own."
When we try to put ourselves above God, we fall. Hard. Because the very core of our being is from God. It's of God. It is of and from the fountain of all life, which connects us all.
And then we turn our backs on that.
No wonder God finds this evil - and problematic.
Which takes us to the next evil we heard about in Jeremiah... that we have chosen cisterns for ourselves – ones that we had to dig, and they're cracked, and can hold no water.
The water that's leaking away here, obviously, is not the living water - the connection to God - because that is so abundant, so profound, that we don't need to hold it and store it - we can find it anywhere and everywhere when we open our eyes to it. We find it in and with and from one another - we share it - because God is constantly sharing it with us. Living water - grace - perfect sustenance.
But we still think we can do better. We think we can do it without God. We think we can do it without depending on one another, helping one another, connecting with one another. We think we can make a cistern for ourselves, save up water - earthly, temporary, water - keep it for only ourselves, and never share. And this applies to any other resource, too: money, food, power, what-have-you.
But. It never works. That type of selfishness, that type of arrogance, that type of ego is just .... wrong. Ineffective. Useless. Pointless.
It’s that type of mindset that makes us act in ways that are inhospitable. Which leeches into our communities. It's that type of all-about-ME! attitude that we hear about in the other readings, too, where we learn more explicitly that God wants us to share what has been given to us. God wants us to share the living waters; he wants us to share the grace, he wants us to share our abundance. And my goodness, friends, we live in an abundant society.
The letter to the Hebrews is also a letter to us – inviting US to do good to others, because Jesus has done good to us. We're invited to offer hospitality to strangers - STRANGERS! That's hard. There are fear-based reasons we don't want to share this hospitality – we feel we deserve it – we’ve earned it – we possess it – we identify BY it.
We fear that sharing means we will lose whatever we’ve attached such cloying attachment to.
BUT - no matter how hard it is, no matter how intimidated we are, we are called by God to share.
And so often we try – we have generous ministries and expressions of concern; we practice outreach and care and open doors; we study and pray and worship together. We as a church regularly find ways to share what God has given us, taking seriously the note from the epistle to "say with confidence 'The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid.'
Because when we don't, what we're doing is spiritually digging our own cisterns, telling God that those living waters aren't good enough for us. We're acting in ways that suggest that we don't fully trust in the promise that God will never leave nor forsake US. We're putting ourselves in that high and mighty spot, that place of honour.
And the fall will be hard, and it will hurt. As we hear about in the Gospel - when we put ourselves in that position, we will be knocked down a peg or two. We'll be reminded that we're not as important as we may think we are. We'll not be dismissed - but we'll be invited to re-locate ourselves at the proper spot. And that would cause humiliation, and pain, and embarrassment.
And for some, that causes them to leave the table – the church – altogether.
And that, I am confident, is not what God wants.
So instead, Jesus lets us know what IS wanted. We're wanted to come to the table - where there is ALWAYS room - but to come as a guest, like everyone else. To remember that we're not the host of the banquet – that’s God's place of honour. We're there as a guest, coming as we are, with humble heart and genuinely pleased to be receiving this great gift.
So let us come to the table - as we are, gently, humbly, prayerfully. As brothers and sisters in the Lord – having chosen to be part of the family of God.
Let us come having received the fullness of God's grace in this life, having left the cistern digging of our own egos aside.
Let us come to the table as invited guests, with our guests, in the beautiful mix of both receiving and sharing a radical hospitality from the host of Hosts.
Let us come to feast on the abundance of this life, recognising it as a foretaste of the overwhelming goodness of the life to come.
Let us come to God’s kingdom table - there's a place for us all, and Jesus is waiting.
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