Sunday, October 29, 2017

Aliens


30th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Cycle C

Thanksgiving is only a few weeks away. How many of you have a tradition at your house to invite people to Thanksgiving dinner who don’t have family or friends here? We always seem to have a place for someone who was planning on spending the holiday alone. We like having new and different people at our table. We don’t do it out of pity or some sense of obligation. We want to share the joy of the day with others, no matter who they are. Usually the invitation is given at the spur of the moment. You don’t have plans for Thanksgiving? Then why not come over to our house? At first the opportunities just came up every year, but now it’s sort of a tradition, and we actively think of people we can invite.

I guess part of it is that we don’t want people to be unhappy, and to us, spending a holiday like Thanksgiving alone would make us unhappy. Maybe some folks like to be alone on Thanksgiving. Maybe being without family or friends at that time brings up painful memories of a loss or of a broken relationship. Maybe they are estranged from their families or have had bad experiences around the dinner table. I never think of those things. Doesn’t matter. I usually just jump in and invite anyone who will come.

To me and my family that’s hospitality. It’s hard to nail down the definition of hospitality. Part of it is cultural, I guess. I grew up with lots of different people around the dinner table. I was raised to believe that it is better to give than to receive. And, I basically just like people. But is it more than that? Is hospitality a matter of faith or just a social construct?

To the people of the ancient Near East, at the time the book of Exodus was written, hospitality was more than a cultural thing, it was often a matter of life and death. Recall the story of Abraham, who was sitting in the entrance to his tent one day when three strangers approached. Abraham jumped up, greeted them heartily, and insisted they stay for a meal. He treated them as important people. He killed some goats and prepared a big meal for them, after ushering them into his tent where it was cool. Turns out they were angels, and they told Abraham in return for his hospitality his wife would bear a son in her old age. Who knew?

In the desert, food and water was in short supply. They were wandering Bedouins, and oftentimes the only way you would eat that day is if you came upon another wanderer who gave you some food. Hospitality was necessary for survival, and people gave it without question, because they knew that someday they themselves would have to rely on the hospitality of someone else.

What does it mean to love your neighbor as yourself? Is it as simple as extending hospitality to one another? In scripture, God talks a lot about reciprocity. Love your neighbor as yourself. You will be forgiven to the extent that you forgive. Welcome the alien because you were once aliens. Abuse the widows and orphans and I will make your wife a widow and your children orphans. That whole Golden Rule thing is about getting what you give, in similar proportions. Treat people as you want to be treated. And there seems to be a built-in quid pro quo. We do it because we want to receive something in return. But is that really love?

Do we extend hospitality because someday we want to receive it? Is that how it should be?

Remember the story of the Good Samaritan? St. Luke has this same story in his gospel, but it is not the Pharisees who were questioning Jesus but a righteous man. Remember that the man wanted to justify himself, so he asked snarkily “But who is my neighbor?” Jesus answered him with the parable of the Good Samaritan. The Samaritan extended compassion and mercy to the man beaten by robbers without asking who he was, or what tribe he belonged to, or what his politics were or how much money he had. He didn’t help him expecting to ever be repaid. He offered hospitality even though he knew he probably would never need the same help himself. Jesus said that is what a true neighbor is. 

We heard in our first reading today from the Book of Exodus, “You shall not molest or oppress an alien, for you were once aliens in the land of Egypt.” We talk a lot about aliens in this country these days, don’t we? And there are strong feelings on each side, each with valid points of view. If hospitality is just a social construct, then it is easy to look at the quid pro quo of immigration, legal or illegal. We must protect our borders. We can’t keep on spending so many resources on people who are here without permission. We need to concentrate on our own people first. We can’t just open the door to everyone. Valid arguments.

But if hospitality is a matter of faith, what are we called to do? How did Jesus offer hospitality? Did he ever discriminate against anyone who came to him? Jesus never rejected anyone who wanted to follow him, even though he was often rejected himself. He offered lifegiving water to the Samaritan women at the well. He invited himself to dinner at the home of Zacchaeus the tax collector. He forgave Peter his betrayal. He spoke in parables of the absurd generosity of the Father.

Jesus offered hospitality to everyone because of the way he viewed them. He saw each and every person as being special, as having an inherent dignity just because God had created them. Every person created is a reflection of the Creator. Every person images God, and so has God within him or her.

If God showed up at your door on Thanksgiving, would you let him in? Would you notice his race, look at the way he is dressed, how well groomed he is, determine his social status? Would you ask yourself what God could give you in return if you let him in? Or would you welcome him in just because he is who he is?

The hospitality of faith transcends all the complicated social, political, economic and racial arguments, and narrows the criteria for acceptance down to one simple reality – your neighbor really is yourself. If God has offered you his hospitality just because you are his son or daughter, you must do the same, because we are all His sons and daughters. All that matters is that God made you. And he made us all for himself.

God shows us the ultimate hospitality. He shows us the ultimate dignity. He dignified humanity to the point of becoming human himself. He showed the value of every human life by dying on the cross for each and every human being ever created. He showed the value of the lowest of the low – he was condemned to a traitor’s death – in his very self. It was when he was brought low that he was raised up high.

The hospitality of faith and the hospitality of society are not exclusive of one another, but build on each other. Social mores and laws are necessary for the survival of our culture. But as we determine what they are to be, we, as Christians, must begin with the reality that each and every human being has inherent dignity because we are Children of God. It is not quid pro quo. It is just because.

We don’t create just laws because of what we will get in return. We don’t decide how to treat other people based upon what they can or cannot contribute to us or to society. Who are we to decide the worthiness of another person’s life? Jesus Christ has already settled that on the cross. We create just laws because they are just. Because God is just.

And it goes beyond laws and social norms. It goes to all our relationships. The alien is anyone who is different from us. Aliens are treated with suspicion. Aliens are not part of us. They can be scary. They can force us out of our comfort zones to perhaps take a different look at ourselves.

Aliens disagree with you. Aliens belong to a different political party. Aliens belong to a different religious group, or hold no religious beliefs at all. Aliens have physical or mental disabilities. Aliens have tattoos and piercings. Aliens are the old and frail who can no longer contribute to society. Aliens are the inconvenient unborn in the womb. Aliens are conservative, aliens are progressive. Aliens are older than you. Aliens are younger than you. Aliens have less money than you. Aliens have more money than you.

You are an alien, and I am an alien. And together, we are wonderfully made.