Loved, welcomed, called...

 

Our New Testament readings today (Hebrews 13:1–8, 15–16 & Luke 14:1, 7–14) touch on a number of themes, too many to explore fully this morning. But one thread runs clearly through both - that real love produces real actions. In other words, our relationship with Jesus, if it is a relationship of love, must change us day by day.

And one of the ways today’s readings point us toward that change is in how we care for people—especially through our hospitality. In the letter to the Hebrews, we hear that wonderful challenge: “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.” We’ll come back to that in a few moments.

 

And in the gospel reading, Jesus speaks about not assuming the highest place at a dinner and then tells a story about inviting people to a great banquet—not friends or relatives or rich neighbours, but instead the poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind.

 

Now, Jesus isn’t saying there’s anything wrong with having dinner with family and friends (I think that’s to be commended too!). But he’s reminding us about our motives, about looking out for those who can’t care for themselves, who can’t repay us, who may not even thank us.

 

And this takes us to the very heart of the gospel - a gospel that turns upside down the world’s values of wealth, power, fame and success, and honours those who are willing to admit they have little to offer but themselves. And what Jesus was trying to tell his listeners is that, in the sight of God, we are all in that position.

 

There’s a story from the Titanic. One of the passengers apparently left behind £300,000 worth of jewellery and money – a lot of money now, let alone over a hundred years ago - and instead picked up three oranges as he left the ship. He recognised that the jewellery and money would be useless when cast adrift in the sea, but the oranges might save his life.

 

Our values, and the way we welcome and accept others, are a great indicator of how we see ourselves before God. Somebody once said, “Those who look up to God rarely look down on others.” And that is our challenge.

 

As Christians, we walk a fine line between conforming to the world, not wanting to look so different that people think we’re strange, and yet being free from the standards of the world. That means doing the work of Jesus - caring for those in need, honouring those often rejected by society, and devoting ourselves to loving people - whoever they are and whatever they’ve done.

 

Back to Hebrews, and that verse about entertaining strangers. It refers back to the Old Testament Book of Genesis (Ch 18), when Abraham was sitting at the door of his tent, probably thinking of taking an afternoon sleep, when he saw three men waiting for help.

 

Plenty of travellers had come to his door before, seeking help and hospitality, which he had given freely. Hospitality was a huge part of the culture. And though it was boiling hot and though Abraham may have been disappointed again and again by people he had helped, he felt it better to be disappointed a hundred times than to miss the chance of showing hospitality. So, he got up, called his wife Sarah, and together they cared for the three unknown men.

 

And how good it was that he hadn’t turned them away—for we’re told that he had entertained angels who gave him news that would change his life forever.

And the writer of the letter to the Hebrews reminds us that while we entertain anyone, we are to act as if we are entertaining God himself.

 

And that view is totally at odds with what society expects of us today. In that pattern, looking after ourselves and our friends and family takes priority. Then perhaps we look after those in need in our community, then in the wider country, and maybe only then might we look further afield – as long as it doesn’t cost or inconvenience us… 

 

And in our choices of people to care for and welcome, we’re so often conditioned to choose those who are like us—those we understand, those we find common ground with.

 

But none of that is the way of God. His message of welcome is addressed to everyone, and to everyone equally. We are not just to care for those who can offer us something back, not just those who will repay our hospitality, but to care for everyone - just as if we were caring for Jesus himself.

 

And these words are incredibly relevant today. So much of our culture is directed towards fear of others - fear of people who are different, fear of people who bring challenges. But it is these people to whom Jesus was so often drawn.

 

It’s a world-transforming view. And it’s a life-transforming view. Very often we may do something for which we receive no thanks and no outward reward—but it doesn’t matter, because in our actions we are doing the work of God.

 

We don’t always know the impact we have on people if we do that, good or bad.

But, every time we meet someone, we are to greet them as if we are greeting Jesus himself.

 

Of course, some will say that’s incredibly naïve—and in some ways, it is. Some people may seem beyond help. The person begging on the street may well go and spend the money on drink. The person we help may forget to say thank you. The person we befriend may throw that friendship back in our face. But still, every time we meet someone, we are to greet them as if we are greeting Jesus himself.

 

In our personal lives and in our churches, we are to welcome without question - and even more, we are to be proactive and inviting. We are to welcome the person who sits in the seat we usually do. We are to welcome the child who makes more noise than we’re used to in church. We are to welcome the stranger—whoever they are.

 

And we don’t do it for reward… But actually, the benefits are huge. 

First, we may indeed be welcoming people who will bring us far more blessings than we can ever give them. Most of us, I’m sure, will have met someone who surprised us, who was more interesting than we expected, or who helped us in ways we didn’t anticipate.

 

And second, we are told that if nobody else recognises what we’ve done, God does. And here the gospel becomes deeply personal. When we talk about naivety, about giving people more chances than they seem to deserve, about people being given everything for nothing when it doesn’t seem deserved - we remember, that is what God has done for us.

 

God hasn’t demanded great achievements. He hasn’t asked for gifts of money or possessions. He hasn’t made a list of conditions. He has accepted us just as we are. And whatever we do, we do as a response to his love and grace.

 

The gospel is not just a call to give hospitality - it’s an invitation to receive it. Jesus tells the story of the great banquet, and we are not the hostsOur New Testament readings today (Hebrews 13:1–8, 15–16 & Luke 14:1, 7–14) touch on a number of themes, too many to explore fully this morning. But one thread runs clearly through both - that real love produces real actions. In other words, our relationship with Jesus, if it is a relationship of love, must change us day by day.

 

And one of the ways today’s readings point us toward that change is in how we care for people—especially through our hospitality. In the letter to the Hebrews, we hear that wonderful challenge: “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.” We’ll come back to that in a few moments.

 

And in the gospel reading, Jesus speaks about not assuming the highest place at a dinner and then tells a story about inviting people to a great banquet—not friends or relatives or rich neighbours, but instead the poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind.

 

Now, Jesus isn’t saying there’s anything wrong with having dinner with family and friends (I think that’s to be commended too!). But he’s reminding us about our motives, about looking out for those who can’t care for themselves, who can’t repay us, who may not even thank us.

 

And this takes us to the very heart of the gospel - a gospel that turns upside down the world’s values of wealth, power, fame and success, and honours those who are willing to admit they have little to offer but themselves. And what Jesus was trying to tell his listeners is that, in the sight of God, we are all in that position.

 

There’s a story from the Titanic. One of the passengers apparently left behind £300,000 worth of jewellery and money – a lot of money now, let alone over a hundred years ago - and instead picked up three oranges as he left the ship. He recognised that the jewellery and money would be useless when cast adrift in the sea, but the oranges might save his life.

 

Our values, and the way we welcome and accept others, are a great indicator of how we see ourselves before God. Somebody once said, “Those who look up to God rarely look down on others.” And that is our challenge.

 

As Christians, we walk a fine line between conforming to the world, not wanting to look so different that people think we’re strange, and yet being free from the standards of the world. That means doing the work of Jesus - caring for those in need, honouring those often rejected by society, and devoting ourselves to loving people - whoever they are and whatever they’ve done.

 

Back to Hebrews, and that verse about entertaining strangers. It refers back to the Old Testament Book of Genesis (Ch 18), when Abraham was sitting at the door of his tent, probably thinking of taking an afternoon sleep, when he saw three men waiting for help.

 

Plenty of travellers had come to his door before, seeking help and hospitality, which he had given freely. Hospitality was a huge part of the culture. And though it was boiling hot and though Abraham may have been disappointed again and again by people he had helped, he felt it better to be disappointed a hundred times than to miss the chance of showing hospitality. So, he got up, called his wife Sarah, and together they cared for the three unknown men.

 

And how good it was that he hadn’t turned them away—for we’re told that he had entertained angels who gave him news that would change his life forever.

And the writer of the letter to the Hebrews reminds us that while we entertain anyone, we are to act as if we are entertaining God himself.

 

And that view is totally at odds with what society expects of us today. In that pattern, looking after ourselves and our friends and family takes priority. Then perhaps we look after those in need in our community, then in the wider country, and maybe only then might we look further afield – as long as it doesn’t cost or inconvenience us… 

 

And in our choices of people to care for and welcome, we’re so often conditioned to choose those who are like us—those we understand, those we find common ground with.

 

But none of that is the way of God. His message of welcome is addressed to everyone, and to everyone equally. We are not just to care for those who can offer us something back, not just those who will repay our hospitality, but to care for everyone - just as if we were caring for Jesus himself.

 

And these words are incredibly relevant today. So much of our culture is directed towards fear of others - fear of people who are different, fear of people who bring challenges. But it is these people to whom Jesus was so often drawn.

 

It’s a world-transforming view. And it’s a life-transforming view. Very often we may do something for which we receive no thanks and no outward reward—but it doesn’t matter, because in our actions we are doing the work of God.

 

We don’t always know the impact we have on people if we do that, good or bad.

But, every time we meet someone, we are to greet them as if we are greeting Jesus himself.

 

Of course, some will say that’s incredibly naïve—and in some ways, it is. Some people may seem beyond help. The person begging on the street may well go and spend the money on drink. The person we help may forget to say thank you. The person we befriend may throw that friendship back in our face. But still, every time we meet someone, we are to greet them as if we are greeting Jesus himself.

 

In our personal lives and in our churches, we are to welcome without question - and even more, we are to be proactive and inviting. We are to welcome the person who sits in the seat we usually do. We are to welcome the child who makes more noise than we’re used to in church. We are to welcome the stranger—whoever they are.

 

And we don’t do it for reward… But actually, the benefits are huge. 

First, we may indeed be welcoming people who will bring us far more blessings than we can ever give them. Most of us, I’m sure, will have met someone who surprised us, who was more interesting than we expected, or who helped us in ways we didn’t anticipate.

 

And second, we are told that if nobody else recognises what we’ve done, God does. And here the gospel becomes deeply personal. When we talk about naivety, about giving people more chances than they seem to deserve, about people being given everything for nothing when it doesn’t seem deserved - we remember, that is what God has done for us.

 

God hasn’t demanded great achievements. He hasn’t asked for gifts of money or possessions. He hasn’t made a list of conditions. He has accepted us just as we are. And whatever we do, we do as a response to his love and grace.

 

The gospel is not just a call to give hospitality - it’s an invitation to receive it. Jesus tells the story of the great banquet, and we are not the hosts - we are the guests. We are amongst the poor, the crippled, the blind and the lame. We are the ones who cannot repay. And yet, we are the ones God invites.

 

This is the lavish hospitality of God - a welcome that is undeserved, unearned, and unconditional. A welcome that says, “Come, sit at my table. You belong here.”

So, if you’ve ever felt like you’re on the outside looking in. If you’ve ever wondered whether you’re good enough, strong enough, spiritual enough, remember, you are invited. Not just to observe, but to receive. Not just to serve, but to be served. Not just to give, but to be given to.

 

Jesus is the same yesterday, today and forever. We don’t change him by what we do - but he can change us by the power and depth of his love.

So, we’re invited to live our lives as an offering of praise to him who loves us, who welcomes us, and who calls us by name to enjoy a relationship with him. Amen.

 - we are the guests. We are amongst the poor, the crippled, the blind and the lame. We are the ones who cannot repay. And yet, we are the ones God invites.

 

This is the lavish hospitality of God - a welcome that is undeserved, unearned, and unconditional. A welcome that says, “Come, sit at my table. You belong here.”

So, if you’ve ever felt like you’re on the outside looking in. If you’ve ever wondered whether you’re good enough, strong enough, spiritual enough, remember, you are invited. Not just to observe, but to receive. Not just to serve, but to be served. Not just to give, but to be given to.

 

Jesus is the same yesterday, today and forever. We don’t change him by what we do - but he can change us by the power and depth of his love.

So, we’re invited to live our lives as an offering of praise to him who loves us, who welcomes us, and who calls us by name to enjoy a relationship with him. Amen.