Showing posts with label Genesis 18:1-10a. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Genesis 18:1-10a. Show all posts

Monday, August 2, 2010

The Hospitality of Sarah and Abraham

There is a famous icon, by the hand of Andrei Rublev, called the Old Testament Trinity. It shows three angels gathered around a small table laden with food and drink. The icon gives us a picture of three persons in a mutual relationship of commonality and exchange - that helps us imagine the nature of God as one in three.

The Old Testament Trinity changed the subject, literally, of an earlier iconic image, the Hospitality of Abraham. You may see this image in icons and in other art. What it shows is the whole image of the visit of three strangers to the Oaks of Mamre, and the tent of Abraham and Sarah. Abraham humbly greets the angelic visitors, while Sarah looks on from behind the gathered folds of their tent.

The three visitors have just arrived; they are strangers. And yet, unaware that he is entertaining angels, Abraham extends the full hospitality of his household to them.

He offers them everything Martha and Mary and Lazarus combined would give the Lord.

He doesn't know them at all.

But there it is.

Openhearted, open-handed hospitality.

And it is an icon for us, of just that.

It is more than an icon to contemplate - if we choose it to be it can be the opening of a doorway to the future.



On the front doors of Grace Cathedral, in San Francisco, these figures appear. The doors are the twins of the doors to the baptistery in Florence. So this image of hospitality appears as a door to the sacred.

When the doors are opened to you, you face a great basin - on a step above the nave floor is the font, on a line between doors and altar. You must move past the font to make your way in to communion with the people gathered in that place. And you are welcome.

You may be a total stranger; but you are welcome.

As we make our adjustments to our own worship space, we find ourselves encountering fresh the meaning of the gifts of Holy Baptism and Holy Eucharist.

These two sacraments instituted by our Lord offer us his hospitality, as we journey farther up and further in to the kingdom that is eternal, the place where God reigns.

As we welcome others, strangers to us as they may be, and offer to share the gifts with them that God has entrusted us to give, we encounter ... messengers of a hopeful future.

Before they leave Abraham and Sarah the three visitors give them a promise, one only God could keep: that indeed what God has purposed will happen, that the progeny of their faith will be as numerous as the stars.

Sarah laughed.

Maybe it was doubt.

But perhaps it was joy.

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Genesis 18:1-10a(10b-14)

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JRL+
August 2, 2010
For the Gospel Grapevine (September 2010).

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

family reunion

Summer time people often travel - to back home. They may go to new and exciting places. Quite often, though, they go where they are known: where they know the people, and know the place, and know where they fit - or used to fit - in that landscape and that group of people. It's you, they say, and so it is - if you want it to be. May be you don't - could be painful. May be you do: it could be, after all, a place and a people where you fit, and fit well. That well-come may be just what you need.

If it's been a hard year, if you lost your job, if illness means you cannot do that work anymore, if you cannot be to someone what you once were, it comforts to know that you are known. For yourself, hopefully.

For yourself, in God's eyes, for ultimately who you are. Ultimately who you are at the end of things is the person God meant you to be, the person God saw all along, knew you could be - if you want to be, if you let it be, if you let God be the one who makes it be: the one who made you redeems you, fills you over-top with gifts that spill over into the lives of those around you. Because you are not the only one coming home, you are not the only one who needs that welcome.

In fact you are one of the family - the welcoming family, that God calls into being, that God calls together from place to place, from time to time, in little groups of two or three, or family gatherings.

Maybe it's just a favorite uncle and you, meeting for a drink and a little something to eat - or a great gathering of cousins, aunts, and uncles. Long forgotten and daily familiar - and brand new, first time here, just gathered into the family, the family gathering at this time, at this place.

Make them welcome - (especially) if they are strangers - strangers to you. For many have been entertained by angels unawares.

Under the oaks of Mamre, an Old Testament trinity of Abraham and Sarah and their long-suffering silent servant provide hospitality to three strange visitors.

It's a test of sorts - or a celebration. Depending on how you look at it.

It's a feast, in Abraham's eyes. Go prepare a calf, they tell the servant. Make cakes of meal and oil. Serve them. Water for their feet? A bit of rest, a seat in the shade - the shade of the trees, the oaks of Mamre.

The meeting place, already ancient then, no doubt, of humans crossing paths in the middle of a strange new land.

It's a land of promise to Abraham - and a promise comes.

It's a promise of comic hope, to Sarah - and she shouts in surprise with laughter, greeting the news - the strangers bring: how do they know? Is it just a blessing - a guest's wish? Or more? - They say: your wife is going to have a baby. We shall see.


Martha, Mary, sisters of Lazarus. They greet a greater One than these Three.

And they welcome him - according to custom, as it would be, having Abraham's example before them - and overcoming custom, as one of the sisters takes a man's place - or a disciple's place - at the foot of the Master, Teacher, Rabbi.

Tell her to come help me...

Martha, Martha, my dear. Don't you worry. Don't fret yourself or her. All will be well.

All manner of thing shall be well - and she has chosen the better part: better because the Lord is with her, with her now, and all these things shall be looked after -


Come sit with us, Martha, for a moment - let the dishes soak. Let my feet remain unwashed (yes even the Master's feet) - for a moment.

Let's refresh each other in a greater hospitality: the hope, the love, the great gifts of God.

And then, let's get on with the feet washing, the bread making, the dishes, - and the plowing, the sowing, the harvest - and the baking, again.

But for now - together - Martha and Mary and Lazarus and all - together - be at peace.

The Lord is here.



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