THE PRESENCE OF GOD
Luke 10:38-42



The lessons and Gospel this morning all underscore the theme of the collect for the day:  “You know our necessities before we ask and our ignorance in asking”.  That wonderful phrase tells us a lot about how God is present in our lives.  God is not some remote deity who occasionally deigns to get dirty hands by coming down and stirring things up.  Rather, we know a God who knows our necessities and is surely intimate, among us, beside us and involved with us.

The first reading from Genesis, a favorite of mine, illustrates this principle that God is intimately among us in an endearing encounter between Abraham and three men.  The story is embellished with oriental flavor because it focuses on hospitality, particularly the welcoming of strangers and the generous sharing in the desert.  Abraham’s minimizing, “Let a little water be brought…a little bread…” is in fact an invitation to a lavish feast.  But it’s what happens after the feast that is so critical.  One of the strangers tells Abraham that Sarah will have a son, something both Abraham and Sarah have waited for but also assumed their age proscribed ever having.  “You know our necessities before we ask, and our ignorance in asking.”

St. Paul, now writing to the Colossians, addresses another necessity of human beings.  “You who were once estranged and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds, he has now reconciled.”    If there were ever a time when human beings desired reconciliation it is now.  Look how badly broken our world is.  Look at the divisions in families, marriages, institutions like the church.  The courts are full of people suing one another.  Anger and frustration fill the airwaves in almost every political campaign.  Most of us wish that it would stop; but what we really need is reconciliation; not agreement with everyone, but a deeper level of humanity that rises above pettiness, honors our differences, and still keeps us in relationship.

St. Paul teaches us that is precisely what Jesus’ ministry is about – reconciling people one with another.  His death is they act of God’s reconciliation with all things in creation.  Our estrangements, our enmity and strife with one another all collapse when they meet on the cross.  That is the good news, and Christians rejoice that God, who knows our necessities even before we ask, offers us the one thing we needed most, the ministry of reconciliation, and the hope of the whole world one day being reconciled in Christ.

Now we move to the Gospel, another picture of Eastern hospitality.  Jesus and his disciples go to Martha and Mary’s house where we witness the well-known scene as Martha is scurrying about the kitchen and “martyring out” because she’s doing all the work while Mary sits at Jesus’ feet.  These are the sisters of Lazarus who one day will need Jesus’ ministry after his death.

At first you might think this story is about not taking hospitality too seriously, and an instruction to spend time with your guests – not in the kitchen.  But, it’s really not about that at all.  The Gospel addresses another issue – the one we’ve been looking at in the context of those words from the collect:  “You know our necessities before we ask, and our ignorance in asking.”  Jesus’ sole mission is to proclaim the breaking in of God’s kingdom right here – among us.  It is not a dramatic event of cosmic magnitude, rather it is the coming among us of God as a stranger in our midst, of someone who has asked nothing of us except basic hospitality, but abides with us because God knows we deeply need the breaking in of the Kingdom, even though we rarely remember to ask for it.

The gift Jesus brings to both Mary and Martha is just that, the presence of a loving caring God in their lives.  They both come to know him as their friend, and he returns when they need him when their beloved brother Lazarus dies.  So, this Gospel is NOT, I repeat, NOT about who’s in the kitchen and who is paying attention to Jesus.  It’s about Jesus entering a home as a stranger and guest, and being received, accorded hospitality and becoming known in the breaking of the bread.

It was a cold autumn afternoon with a chilly north wind blowing across the Kansas prairie.  I was doing something in the church and came outside to be confronted by a man in a hooded jacket – another transient, I assumed, wanting a hand out.  He introduced himself as Don, said he was a new Vista volunteer in town, and wanted me to know he was an Episcopalian from St. Louis.  Don came regularly to services, and was a bringer of peace and reconciliation among us.  He worked a lot with the Latinos in town who were the invisible minority.  Don was fluent in Spanish, and was able to bring that community’s needs to the churches and help the churches respond appropriately.  Before long everyone knew Don, and when his Vista terms was up he stayed on among us.  He came as a stranger but remained a true friend.

Over the years, Don has helped many people connect with each other in NW Kansas.  He’s never led a demonstration or lobbied for anything; he simply meets people and in his own deferential way makes them feel comfortable with themselves and with strangers.

During that time the towns in Western Kansas have diminished in size, and their churches have also had to live in reduced circumstances.  Northwest of Hays there are no longer any salaried Episcopal clergy.  But Don is now an ordained Episcopal priest, and he serves the small churches with his faithful, gentle qualities, offering them God’s sacraments of healing and reconciliation in the Eucharist.

How does the Kingdom of God come among us?  Well, the lessons teach us about the stranger as being a principal way in which God shows up.  In the story from Genesis Abraham is host to three men, who have often been viewed as an early representation of the Holy Trinity.  In a time when we are again considering immigration reform, in a time when people are again organizing in fear to keep out those who would like to come to America, we might remember that the stranger (often the foreigner) is a sign of how God enters into our lives.  The question is, are we willing to receive God in that way? 

That which we most need, the presence of God among us, is offered to us through people who walk into this Church all the time.  God is continually sending people to us and among us as signs of reconciliation, and intimate human contact God is the way we know who God is.  Our hospitality is the sign of welcome; but it is our willingness to welcome the stranger and become a community with others sent to us that will advance the coming of God’s kingdom.

A final note: In the Hebrew story of Abraham and the Gospel reading today change in the lives of characters is taking place.  Abraham is moving to a place promised him by God.  He has taken a leap of faith to do this.  The one thing he wants more than anything else is a son, an heir, someone to carry on his name – a very understandable wish in a time when your offspring was your future.  God grants him that deep desire.

In the Gospel, Mary and Martha as single women have little worth in a patriarchal society.  Jesus’ decision to come to their house is a sign of how God feels about all people, strong or weak, rich or poor, single or married.  They are respected and loved by him, and the resulting relationship changes their lives forever.  Jesus wants nothing less for each of us, and he gives it to us through the sacramental life and the community of faith.  He knows what we need, and our ignorance in asking.  May that good news give you joy, and may it help us all to look for the signs of the kingdom in others every day.

Ben E. Helmer, Vicar
St. James Episcopal Church
July 18, 2010


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