He was standing there in threadbare jeans
and an old shirt hanging loose. He had a vacant stare. I had not seen him
before nor have I seen him since. It was a recent Sunday after worship in
the fellowship hall. The stranger had poured himself a cup of coffee and was
standing in the way of access to the coffee urn. I had to excuse myself to
get a cup of coffee. We exchanged glances, shared our names and words of
greeting. I told him I was glad he joined us that day. A faint smile
appeared on his face. Then he walked to the table displaying a variety of
sweets. He unfolded a napkin and carefully stacked a few cookies on the
napkin, folded it ceremoniously, and disappeared. Later I reflected upon
that brief encounter, wondering if the stranger might have been Jesus in
disguise; or if I had entertained, however briefly, an angel, that is, a
messenger from God. Obviously my reflection on the encounter was the
message God intended for me to receive!
But God’s message for me didn’t end there.
It led me to remember that a major part of Jesus’ public ministry had to do
with food – what we refer to as table fellowship. That seems so innocuous to
us today that we can’t appreciate how table fellowship got Jesus into as
much trouble with Temple priests and community leaders as his teachings and
healings. The gospel records report that “John (the Baptizer) came
neither eating nor drinking…the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and
they say, ‘Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and
sinners!’” (Mt 11:18,19; Lk 7:33,34). In other words, John was
understood to promote fasting; Jesus to promote feasting. You might say
Jesus was a party kind of guy. But he was criticized for breaking the
prevailing social codes: he sat at table with outcasts shunned by
respectable folks! For example, when he was in Jericho, Jesus joined
Zaccheaus for a meal and brought a new lease on life to this man as he
confessed defrauding the townspeople. The locals must have been furious
that Jesus would have entered that man’s house and broken bread with one who
had contracted with the hated Roman occupation government to collect taxes
in Jericho.
In that ancient Jewish culture, sharing a
meal meant mutual acceptance between equals. Refusing to share a meal was an
act of social ridicule and condescension. In our own times, it is difficult
for us to appreciate that Jesus’ type of table fellowship subverted
acceptable social behavior as he dramatically demonstrated his alternative
vision of an inclusive, egalitarian community that repudiates class
distinctions and hierarchies. Jesus was scorned by those who jealously
guarded the Temple purity system that dictated which kind of people were
considered unclean, outcasts, and therefore untouchables and sinners.
You can bet your platter of biscuits and
gravy that when Jesus spoke about who to invite to a meal, the eyebrows of
his audience shot up. He said, “do not invite your friends…or your
relatives or rich neighbors, in case they may invite you in return, and you
would be re-paid…invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. And
you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you…” (Lk 14:12-14). He
followed with a parable about a man who sent out invitations to certain
folks to attend his banquet. They sent regrets because they were busy with
other things. The man was determined to fill the empty places at his table,
so he instructed his servant to go into the street and bring in strangers
(14:15-24). Jesus was making it clear that if you can’t find the time to
join him and his mix of interesting table guests here on earth, what makes
you think you will find a place at the heavenly banquet?! That’s hyperbole,
of course. Jesus was not saying we are barred from fellowship in heaven. He
was making a point in response to the dinner guest who said to Jesus,
“Blessed is anyone who will eat bread in the kingdom of God.” The point
is that being a guest at the table of Jesus means acceptance of whoever else
is at the table with you, that you are equals. The other point is that God’s
“kingdom” is present in the here-and-now, as much as anywhere else.
According to Luke’s Gospel, Jesus is quoted as saying elsewhere, “the
kingdom of God is among you” or “within you” (17:21).
Because the character of Jesus’ table
fellowship was inclusive, I tend to drop the letter “g” in the word
kingdom and call it kin-dom. The word “kingdom” denotes a
hierarchy. The word “kin-dom”, on the other hand, suggests a kinship among
equals. I picture any of us sitting with Jesus at a round table, at which
there is no place that can be identified as the “head” of the table. I
picture sitting at a banquet where Jesus is seated on the main floor with
all the guests. I call this “kin-dom hospitality.” The door is open wide and
all are invited to table fellowship with Jesus be it Holy Communion, a
church potluck, or a simple meal at your family’s table.
There was a time when women were not welcome
as equal partners at the table, though it was not always so. In ancient
Christian documents unearthed in 1945 at Nag Hammadi in Egypt, we find that
there were women pastors and bishops until Greco-Roman culture created
public opinion against it. I am honored to be a part of a Christian
denomination that restored ordination to women in 1889, and that 50 years
ago the General Conference of The Methodist Church voted full conference
membership to women clergy. Ann-Mary MacLeod has been accepted for admission
in seminary and will embark on a journey, the trail of which was blazed by
courageous women centuries ago whose call from God to ministry could not and
would not be denigrated. This year the United Methodist Church celebrates
the 50th anniversary of this triumph.
My thoughts also turn to what happens nearly
every Sunday within these walls: a stranger from off the street, however
unkempt, will be found joining the congregation at the refreshment table
after worship. It’s heartwarming to see how some of you draw the stranger
into your circle of friends for conversation. Those of us who participate in
the Interfaith Hospitality Network, now called Family Promise, take a turn
preparing and sharing a meal with homeless families - a rewarding
experience. When I was pastor of this church many years ago, we observed
“Wonderful Wacky Wednesdays” when members of the choir and committees
gathered in the fellowship hall ahead of time for concoctions that only Tony
Ramponi could create. Sometimes we would find a stranger from off the street
sitting at table with us. For some people the loneliest time is mealtime.
It didn’t have to be so on Wonderful Wacky Wednesdays. Once while I was
traveling alone to an out-of-town meeting, I stopped at a restaurant for
lunch. A family I had never met before, sitting at a nearby table, invited
me to join them because they didn’t want to see me eating alone. A gracious
gesture of hospitality. These become opportunities to perpetuate the spirit
of Jesus’ table fellowship.
Over the years in so many ways and in so
many different places I’ve known the words of the Letter to the Hebrews to
be a reality: “Let mutual love continue. Do not neglect to show
hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels
without knowing it” (13:1,2).
“Just as Jesus appeared at his birth as a
helpless child that the world was free to care for or destroy, so now he
appears in his resurrection as the pauper, the prisoner, the stranger:
appears in every form of human need that the world is free to serve or to
ignore” (Frederick Buechner). And we, in whom the gift of kin-dom
hospitality has been vested, are left to decide if we will serve or ignore,
if we will joyfully gather or not at an open table the risen Christ hosts.
The Rev. John H. Emerson
May 7, 2006
