Over the years, I’ve had the opportunity to make a retreat at some
wonderful Benedictine abbeys. I’ve always had a fondness for the
Benedictines, not just because their abbeys tend to be on remote,
serene hilltops with breathtaking views - but also because
Benedictines are known for their hospitality. Fifteen hundred
years ago, St. Benedict wrote into his rule that “all guests who
present themselves are to be welcomed as Christ.” Even to this
day, Benedictines welcome visitors that way and treat them as part
of the family.
Of course, long before St. Benedict wrote his
rule, the author of the Letter to the Hebrews wrote about showing
hospitality to strangers. “By doing that,” he wrote, “some have
entertained angels without knowing it.” He was referring, of
course, to the story in today’s reading from the Book of Genesis
pictured on the cover of today’s bulletin. Those three mysterious
visitors whom Abraham invited into his tent - lavishing them with
care, offering rest and refreshment – turned out to be no ordinary
visitors. They were divine messengers, angels sent by God, and
Abraham’s hospitality toward them brought to him and Sarah, his
wife, the blessing they had longed for but had long since stopped
hoping for: the blessing of a son. If ever an incentive was needed
for welcoming strangers, this story gives it. Strangers can be
angels in disguise.
In the gospel story, Martha and Mary were
not welcoming a stranger when they welcomed Jesus into their home –
Jesus was their friend, after all - but the story does paint a
beautiful picture of hospitality: Martha outdoing herself, scurrying
about being hospitable, and Mary showing the quiet, gentle, loving
face of hospitality. Hospitality has more than one face, and while
Mary may, in Jesus’ words, have chosen “the better part” still, we
would be hard put to deny the importance of Martha’s role in showing
hospitality. Had it not been for Martha, Jesus probably wouldn’t
have gotten much if anything to eat!
Hospitality. In response to things you told
us in a parish survey - we have looked for ways we can be more
welcoming and hospitable as a parish. In addition to our wonderfully
welcoming ushers at the doors of the Cathedral, we have a Welcome
Desk here in the Cathedral each weekday, staffed by generous
volunteers who are quietly present just to welcome people and answer
questions. And, there’s our Wednesday midday tour for visitors, and
there’s the Cathedral Kitchen that welcomes and feeds hundreds of
poor and homeless people six days each week, and our Immigrant
Assistant Program with its outreach to refugees from Afghanistan,
and soon from Ukraine.
Hospitality: important at the parish level
and equally important on the global level. No one has been more
outspoken about welcoming strangers than Pope Francis. On his trips
around the world he has made it a point to come face-to-face with
the plight of tens of thousands of migrants and refugees fleeing
war, terrorism, and poverty, and he has challenged the world
community to reach out to these suffering brothers and sisters with
aid and asylum and, yes, hospitality. Which brings to mind the
recent tragic death of those 53 people down on our southern border.
They came here in a desperate search for safety and refuge but were
heartlessly abandoned in a tractor-trailer where they died from
stifling heat and dehydration in unspeakable conditions.
Sadly, the 24-hour news cycle has probably
already moved us onto other tragic stories, but this is one we
should not forget – nor should we forget the searing question God
put to Cain after he murdered his brother, Abel, “Where is your
brother? His blood cries out to me.” In commenting on this passage,
Pope Francis made the blunt observation, “This is not a question
directed to others, it is a question directed to me, to you. These
brothers and sisters of ours are trying to escape impossible
situations, to find safe refuge for themselves and their families,
but instead they often find death. They are our brothers and
sisters, they are not pawns on the chessboard of humanity, they are
not disposable. Their cry rises up to God. We must find ways to
welcome them….”
My friends, I’m aware of the complexity of
this issue and I am also aware of how politically charged it has
become. But welcoming the stranger and reaching out to people
fleeing for their lives is not politics, it’s basic morality, and
it’s in our DNA as Christians – maybe from as far back as the Holy
Family’s Flight into Egypt. And in the swirl of overheated rhetoric,
as we form our consciences about what is the right thing, the moral
thing, with regard to immigrants and refugees, we will do well to
keep the teaching of Pope Francis in mind and to remember that they
want the same things we do, the same thing our parents and
grandparents wanted when they came here: safe haven for themselves
and their children: freedom, food, shelter, medical care, a way to
make a living, a place to call home.
I began by talking
about the Benedictines who welcome visitors as Christ himself and
about our call as a parish to be welcoming to strangers. And I know,
it may seem quite a leap to go from there to welcoming immigrants
and refugees – until we recall the teaching of Jesus in the 25th
chapter of Matthew’s gospel. It seems our salvation depends on it:
”I was a stranger and you welcomed me. For as long as you did it for
one of these, the least of my brothers and sisters, you did it for
me.”
Father Michael G. Ryan
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