Joel D. Kline
October 12, 2003
Highland Avenue Church of the Brethren
The Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost
The Scriptures have a great deal to say about welcoming others, making place for the stranger, extending hospitality, opening wide our arms to invite, welcome, and include those who formerly were outside our familiar circle of relationship. Indeed, in the Hebrew Scriptures, the gift of hospitality is affirmed as sacred obligation. Perhaps you remember the story in Genesis 18, in which three strangers approach Abraham and Sarah’s tent. Abraham and Sarah bow before the guests, signifying their intent to render the highest possible honor and service for them; they provides water, so that the weary travelers might wash their feet after a long, dusty journey; they prepare a meal for them, including a calf, reserved in those days for the most special of occasions; and they offer their unexpected guests a place of rest. As the story unfolds, it becomes clear that God has somehow assumed human form in these strangers, yet Sarah and Abraham extend gracious hospitality and welcome without being aware of the divine presence.
Over in the New Testament the writer of the letter to the Hebrews urges us, “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it” (Hebrews 13:2). The apostle Paul prods the church at Rome to “welcome one another, just as Christ welcomed you, for the glory of God” (Romans 15:7), and similarly, Peter reminds his fellow Christians to “be hospitable to one another without complaining” (1 Peter 4:9).
On the wall of the entrance to the retreat center at the Abbey of Gethsemani, where I recently went for a prayer and silence retreat, are words from the Rule of Benedict: “Let every guest who comes be received as Christ.” Words that echo the New Testament call to open our arms and welcome the stranger.
Given this biblical focus upon hospitality, as well as our recently adopted mission statement that highlights the call to “welcome others,” you may consider today’s Scripture lesson to be an odd choice. This morning’s lesson is Mark’s account of the rich young ruler approaching Jesus. It’s an intriguing confrontation, one that is recalled in all three synoptic Gospels—Matthew, Mark, and Luke. The three writers differ on minor details, with Luke being the only writer to describe the one approaching Jesus as a ruler and Matthew alone speaking of him as young. All three Gospel writers note his wealth, and tradition has therefore merged the three accounts, so that we have the rich young ruler.
More importantly, all three Gospel writers agree that Jesus demands much of this rich man who comes asking, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” (Mark 10:17). After Jesus and his inquirer agree on the importance of keeping the basic commandments of faith, there follows a telling line. The Gospel writer asserts that Jesus, “loving him,” senses that the rich young ruler’s wealth makes it difficult for him to trust God and live the life of discipleship. And so Jesus speaks words that, even now, send quivers through those of us immersed in a materialistic culture. “You lack one thing,” says Jesus. “Go, sell what you own, and given the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me” (10:21).
Even as Jesus invites the rich young ruler to join him on the journey of discipleship, Jesus also speaks words of confrontation, recognizing that the young man could not continue to cling to his possessions while embracing the call to follow Jesus. And then Jesus watches as the young man sorrowfully walks away.
It is not easy to offer an inviting and welcoming space for persons to grow, while at the same time challenging those same persons to put on a new way of living. There are some who, in their desire to open wide welcoming arms, believe that we must first somehow temper the gospel’s challenge, that we must dilute the call to embrace the things that make for peace, that we must somehow soften the call to seek the kingdom of God before all else. But Jesus chooses both to welcome and challenge the rich young ruler, both to love him and to call him to greater faithfulness.
You may well have heard this story with some frequency, and yet it continues to startle us, doesn’t it? Somewhere I remember hearing a preacher suggest that were we Jesus and the rich young ruler had approached us, we would have responded quite differently. Not only would we have welcomed the rich man, but we may well have invited him to chair our stewardship enlistment program! Just imagine what we could do with the money if this rich young ruler chose to tithe, to share a tenth of his income in support of the church’s programs and ministries. We’ve begun a search for a half-time associate pastor, and with the rich young ruler’s tithe, we could call the new staff person to a full-time position! Outreach giving—support of the many ministries of the Church of the Brethren, local concerns including ministry to the homeless, creating affordable housing for the poor, serving the needs of the lonely and the lost—all of these could be enhanced by the windfall of dollars!
But were that to be the case, would we not be welcoming the rich young ruler simply for what he could offer to us, for what he could do for us, whereas God’s welcome is extended, not for what the individual can perform, but that he or she might experience abundant life! If true to the gospel, we welcome others, not because they might be able to assist us, but because we have a gift to offer them. It is the gift of Jesus—the gift of wholeness, the gift of peace, the gift of purposeful living, the gift of community, the gift of Life with a capital L!
To the rich young ruler, Jesus’ words of invitation seem harsh, and he walks away sorrowfully. Note that the rich ruler is not excluded by Jesus; rather, the rich young ruler makes his own choice not to take the bold step of wholehearted devotion to God and God’s vision for living. Observing the young man’s departure, Jesus is led to remark to the disciples, “How hard it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!” (10:23).
In a book entitled Sometimes It’s Hard to Love God Dennis Guernsey suggests that we are tempted to allow “the virus of ‘mere religion’” to replace the radical demands of Jesus, the call to seek first life in God’s kingdom. Mere religion, asserts Guernsey, is content with outward image, with rule keeping and respectability, but it draws back from the kind of wholehearted commitment Jesus requires of us. The translators of the New English Bible have Jesus saying to the rich man, “If you wish to go the whole way, sell your possessions …” (Matthew 19:21).
Jesus will not let us rest content with mere religion. Again and again Jesus calls us to go the whole way, to surrender self and take up the cross, to lose our lives in order to find real life, to take the lower seat, to go the extra mile in relationships, to become servants, to risk the real danger that comes from loving outcasts and those whom our society would label as unlovable.
“This is how we know that we are no longer hungry,” writes Gunilla Norris, that the world is full of both terror and beauty, “and yet we are not afraid to find solace here.” We are not afraid “to be bread for each other. To love.” And that brings us back to the challenge to be an inviting and welcoming people, a people who seek to make space for others to experience the grace and the goodness of God, a welcoming people who live and share the good news of God’s gracious love and peace.
In her novel about the Gospel writer Luke, entitled Dear and Glorious Physician, Taylor Caldwell portrays the young Luke seeking God, then becoming embittered and turning from God, only to return in his later years as he encounters God’s gracious love in Christ. After being drawn back to God and while yearning to know more about Jesus, Caldwell portrays Luke encountering, seemingly by happenstance, the rich young ruler, named Hillel ben Hamran in her novel. For several months Hillel has been at sea, seemingly trying to forget something, but unwilling to communicate, even with his family. The ships’ physician had been killed in a storm, and the captain begs Luke, a physician, to come aboard and care for Hillel.
At first Hillel is unresponsive, but when Luke speaks of his faith in God’s power to bring healing and peace, Hillel whispers weakly:
It is too late. He called to me, and I turned from him. But I did not forget him, and one day I knew I could not live without him, though what he asked of me was very arduous. So I went seeking him again. It was too late. The Romans had killed him, had nailed him on a cross like a criminal.
Luke shares the remarkable news of Christ’s resurrection and offers assurance of Christ’s forgiveness. But Hillel cannot hear the promise, remembering only that he had turned from the One who offered welcoming, yet challenging, arms. Hillel then speaks in more detail of the call of Jesus to sell his possessions and share with the poor, and it is only when Luke shares similar struggles with the astounding call of Jesus that Hillel begins to sense the healing of good news. Luke says to Hillel,
I did not know, as you did not know, that Jesus takes only to give, bereaves only to extend comfort, blinds only that we might see light…I can see that you never forgot Jesus, that he haunted your life and your dreams, and you could not flee from him. Rest now, and be consoled, for you have suffered much and Jesus has forgiven you and asks only that you follow him and leave him never.
In the compassionate spirit of Jesus, Hillel, the remorseful ruler, is welcome. Luke becomes bread for Hillel, extending forgiveness, grace, and peace, offering arms of welcome. Is that not our calling as well, to be bread for one another, to become a community that fully embodies the inviting, the welcoming, and the challenging presence of Christ? Shall we not embrace the call to deepen faith, proclaim peace, embrace community, and welcome others, in the compassionate spirit of Jesus?
May it be so. Amen.
We confess, O God, that we seldom find it easy to wait. We are an impatient people. We want what we want when we want it. We are accustomed to fast food, automatic banking machines, instant credit, rapid response. Waiting generally annoys us.
And yet You ask us to wait, O God, to trust that You will indeed touch our hearts and minds with new energy and wisdom when we are weary, with new strength and purpose at those times when we cannot see our way.
O God of abundant love, forgive our foolish ways. In the midst of competing demands for our time and full schedules draining our energy, teach us to center ourselves in relationship with You.
Some of us come this morning, anxious about the future, uncertain what direction we ought to pursue. Some of us are grieving losses—perhaps the loss of a loved one, or the loss of comfortable patterns in our lives, or even the loss of a dream. Some of us are weary and broken, yearning to taste and see anew Your goodness, to find renewed purpose for our living.
Whatever our particular need this day, O God, teach us to wait, and in that waiting, grant that we may mount up with wings like eagles, that we may run and not grow weary, that we may walk and not faint.
O gracious God, open our eyes to the beauty that surrounds and enfolds us in life and creation—to the wonder of changing season and leaves with vibrant colors, and to the wonder of relationships. Bless our church, as we seek to move deeper in our faith, as we proclaim the ways of peace, as we embrace the gift oaf community, and as we seek to reach out and welcome the stranger, the lost, the broken, the brother or sister we have not yet met.
Compassionate God, hear us as we hold in Your hands those in special need of Your healing embrace …. Hear us as we celebrate those who are making wedding commitments, those who are traveling, those who are beginning new ventures in life.
And hear us as we pray for peace in our hearts and in our world. We wait with eager anticipation for the coming of that day when swords are beaten into plowshares, weapons are recreated as instruments of healing and wholeness, and all humanity embraces life as gift and see one another as sisters and brothers created in Your image, O God.
Lord God, we wait for You, and give thanks for the gift of Your abundant mercy and forgiveness, and for the promise of new life. Amen.