January 25

January 25, 2009

The Difference Between Friendliness & Hospitality
Or, Why Friendly Isn’t Good Enough
a sermon on Luke 19.1-10
by David C. Mauldin
Westminster Presbyterian Church, Mobile, Alabama

Was it a hot, dry day when Jesus passed through Jericho? I imagine it that way, although it was in springtime, so perhaps the weather was quite pleasant. Yes, let’s imagine it that way. Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem. He knew why. So did his disciples. Jesus had just given them a sharply detailed prediction: the Son of Man, handed over to the Gentiles, mocked, spat upon, flogged. “They will kill him,” Jesus continued, speaking of himself in the third person, “and on the third day he will rise again.”

The disciples did not understand his words, but they certainly caught his mood. They approached Jericho with puzzled minds and apprehension. As I picture his arrival in my mind, I see the crowds cheering, excited while the disciples appear worried and Jesus is downright sad—the weight of the passion already heavy on his heart.

So on they come, and one little man in particular wants to see Jesus. One wee little man whose stature puts him at a disadvantage in a crowd. Undaunted, he climbs up in a sycamore tree. And he waits. He sees the procession arriving. The cheers getting louder. Jesus reputation has preceded him, and everyone is hopeful for some great movement by the hand of God.

Zacchaeus fully expects Jesus to simply pass by without noticing him. To his astonishment, Jesus stops right under his tree, looks up, and says, “Zacchaeus, is that you? Thanks for coming out! It’s always good to see people go out of their way to see what God is doing. You keep it up, OK.”

Then Jesus turns and takes a step as if to go. Zacchaeus feels a tug in his heart. Jesus has something to offer him, something he desperately needs. He can’t let Jesus go, so he calls out, “Jesus, wait … uh, … hey, is there anything I can do to help you?” What Zacchaeus really wants is talk with Jesus. He knows inviting the great teacher to his house is out of the question. It would be totally offensive, so he does the best he can. He takes a shot, even if it comes out sounding rather pitiful.

But Jesus turns back, smiles at him the warmest smile he has ever seen, and says (the sincerity obvious in his voice), “Thanks, Zacchaeus. I appreciate that. I know you mean it, and I really am touched. There’s nothing I can think of right now, but I’ll be sure to let you know if something comes up. Take care, now.” And with that Jesus resumed his journey, his attention distracted by all the people clamoring for his attention. Simon Peter asks Jesus, “Who was that guy? Do you know him?” “Not really,” Jesus answers, “His name is Zacchaeus. He’s a tax collector. It’s too bad. I see potential in him if he could just find his way back to the Father.”

Later that day, Zacchaeus eats alone at his house, pondering his encounter with Jesus. “Wow,” he thinks, “Jesus was such a nice guy. He even stopped to talk with me. … But, enough time lost. I’d better get back to work on these taxes.”

I told that story wrong, didn’t I? That’s not how Luke tells it. Let me see if I can get this next one straight. Last Monday and Tuesday Mike Sorocak, Pat Johnson, and I went to a seminar sponsored by the presbytery. The Vital Churches Institute works with presbyteries and local congregations to reorganize and reenergize churches through something called The Acts 16.5 Initiative. Acts 16.5 says, “So the churches were strengthened in the faith and increased in numbers daily.” That’s what every church wants: Christians growing in their faith and more people choosing to follow Jesus.

The seminar we attended was the launch event. The Acts 16.5 Initiative is a three-year process. Our session is currently trying to discern whether we should participate. The whole thing is led by Dr. Stan Ott, a pastor and now church growth consultant. Dr. Ott is an engaging speaker, and he said some helpful things.

He’s big on intentional ministry planning. He says most churches follow a predictable pattern. Every year they do the same things they did the year before. This is not entirely bad, because once upon a time there was a good reason to do them, and some of them still serve good purposes. But, if that’s all we ever do, plug volunteers into positions to run programs just like last year, … well, we’ll become obsolete fast. The world is changing. The culture is changing. How people think and live are changing. We have to be flexible enough to adapt what we do.

The way to do this, says Dr. Ott, is to start with a clear, simple vision for ministry. I love his definition of vision. “Vision means seeing what God wants to do through you.” Once you have a vision in place, everything you do, you ask, how does this further our vision?

The vision he pitches is “to glorify God by making disciples and meeting needs.” So if that is a church’s vision, they put everything to the test. How does this program, this event, or whatever make disciples or meet needs?

He rightly alerts us to the danger of making the things we do ends in themselves. The church exists for its mission, not to run programs. Programs ought to further the mission. In other words, we do things for a reason. And the reason is our mission, our vision.

I felt good about this vision stuff because he said a pastor should get out in front and push a vision for the church. I’ve been doing that ever since day 1. The vision I keep pushing is “helping you answer God’s call.” What does Westminster do? What are we here for? What does God want us to do? This church exists to help people hear and answer God’s call. I say this all the time: God calls every human being to three things: faith in Jesus Christ, holy living, and to some kind of ministry. (Ministry is a fancy way of saying “serving others in Jesus’ name.”) If people don’t know Jesus, we are supposed to help them hear the Good News. We are supposed to help one another live the Christian life, the life God calls us to. We help people hear and answer the call to ministry, through teaching, training, and opportunities for service. Some people also have other callings: to marriage or parenting, to ordained ministry, to a certain profession. I think this is a good vision. I’m going to keep pushing it. We want everyone to know God is calling them, because that’s what we believe. And we want to help everyone answer their call.

Like every good vision, it is general enough to cover every aspect of church life, but it is specific enough to help us decide what we should do. I’ll give you an example: I’ve challenged the confirmation class to plan an Easter egg hunt. They are excited. We have a lot of details to work out, but the key component will be youth dressed as Simon Peter and/or Mary Magdalene telling the Easter story. We want kids to have a good time, but we also want them to know what Easter is really all about. Many children don’t know. They imagine it has something to do with bunnies and chocolate. We’re not giving kids the hard sell. We’re not twisting arms. We’re just telling the story and celebrating it. Jesus died because he loves you. He rose again, and lives today. That’s part of helping kids hear God’s call to faith.

OK, so Dr. Ott was big on intentional ministry planning based on a vision. The other thing he really hit hard was relationships. He talked about small groups and the way meetings should be opened and something called prayer covenants (where you and another person agree to pray for each other every day for a month). Your session is doing that right now. Elders, don’t forget to pray for your prayer covenant partner. Every month we will realign the pairings. But in the midst of talking about relationships, Dr. Ott said something that hit me as a revelation. I sat there in disbelief, shocked that something so obvious had eluded me for so long. It was perhaps the most helpful thing he said in the whole two days.

I want to share it with you now. He said … there is a difference between friendliness and hospitality. A church can be very friendly, but not hospitable. What is the difference? I tried to capture it in my mixed up story of Zacchaeus. In the gospel of Luke, Jesus shows hospitality to Zacchaeus. Yes, I know Jesus invited himself to dinner; that’s not the point. The point is, Jesus gave Zacchaeus an invitation. Jesus offered a bit of himself. “Come with me.” Jesus showed hospitality to Zacchaeus, and the results were not predictable. They were astonishing. No one but Jesus imagined the transformation. In my version of the story, Jesus was friendly but not hospitable. He was warm. He was sincere. He was nice. He expressed appreciation. There was nothing fake or phony about him. But he did not give an invitation. He did not open his life and his agenda to Zaccaheus. He was friendly but he kept Zaccaheus at arms length.

I still marvel how this difference escaped my notice for so long. I have seen this. I have experienced it. Not many of you know that I have worked undercover on foreign soil. It’s true. The last time was about four years ago when Rosalyn and I went to Montreal. On Sunday we went to a Presbyterian church for worship. And no one there knew I am a pastor. Not at first anyway. Coming in the door we looked for all the world like normal people. We pastors, when we go on vacation, love this sort of thing. The main thing about worship is to worship God. But when you are undercover like this, you can’t help scouting out how other churches do things. I have to be careful not to get carried away and do something embarrassing. Someone asks what my name is, and I answer, “The name’s Mauldin, David Mauldin.”

So we go to this church, a lovely church. Great sermon. People were friendly, but the thing that stands out was this one young man, a college student. He came up and spoke to us. He asked about us and told us about his studies and the church and the city. In other words, he was a welcoming, friendly person—the kind of person every church needs. But he was also hospitable. That church had an after-worship fellowship coffee. It was exactly like what we do here on the second Sunday of every month when we have punch and cookies in the fellowship hall. This young man asked us to go with him. He led the way, which was good because it wasn’t easy to find. He introduced us to some other people. At the end he helped us find our way back again and pointed us toward the right subway.

It is good to welcome a visitor and say, “Hey, I am glad you came today. Please come back.” It is better to say, “I’m glad you came today. Say, come with me to the fellowship lunch.” Being hospitable means inviting a visitor or a new member to sit with you in worship. It means inviting them to the after-worship fellowship and introducing them to a few of your friends. We usually have something after worship at least twice a month. You could always say, “Come back next Sunday, and plan to stay for lunch. Meet me at this pew.” Hospitality means inviting people to the men’s breakfast or the supper club or the Lenten Book Study.

I ask myself, is Westminster a friendly church? I think the answer is yes. I can’t come here on a Sunday without dozens of people greeting me warmly. Of course, I’m not undercover here. My in-laws say this is by far the friendliest church they have ever visited. Of course, it is also the only church they have visited where their son-in-law is the pastor. But, seriously, enough people have commented to me about the friendliness of our church that I suspect there is something to it.

Most churches believe they are friendly. It’s a point of pride. Pity the church that knows it isn’t friendly but doesn’t care. Many are kidding themselves. Our presbytery’s executive presbyter says a church’s reputation for friendliness is like the dolphin’s reputation for rescuing drowning swimmers and escorting them back to shore. Those are the ones you hear from; the others don’t come back. He is right to urge caution. We are only as friendly as how we treat people today. Still, overall, I believe we are a friendly church. Even some who did not come back have told me so. And yet, a church can be friendly without being hospitable.

Are we hospitable? I’m not going to try to answer that. It is my challenge to you. Now that you know there is a difference, and deep down we always knew, didn’t we? We just never put it into words. Now that we know, we can pay attention. The answer starts with you, each of you. Are you hospitable?

I don’t need to tell you I am not suggesting we put pressure on people. I’m not the arm-twisting kind. Some people are put off if you invite them to a class; others don’t really feel welcome unless you break into their house, tie them up, and haul them to choir practice in the trunk of your car. What I am talking about is an invitation. Hospitality is about openness on our part to let someone else in. And not just to let them in, but to make them feel welcome. A visitor may not want to stay for the fellowship. He may not want to sit with you. That’s OK. Don’t worry about that. Be hospitable and then let people follow their own inclinations. I use an honest approach. I tell people, “I don’t like to put pressure on folks, so I usually err on the side of subtlety; but I do want you to know that we are glad you are coming and we want you to join, if that’s what you believe God wants you to do.” In other words, “We want you here.”

Hospitality fits perfectly with our vision. We know God has a call for every person who walks through our doors. We trust God is working in their life in some way. We want them to hear that call. Making people feel at home really helps. Why? For the same reason God invented the church in the first place. We hear and answer our call in community. Other people help us, not usually by telling us what our call is, but by loving and encouraging us. Also by example: people learn how to be Christians how? Not so much by listening to sermons, although they help, but much more by watching how other Christians do it. That’s how our children learn. Any time there is a difference between our teaching and what we do, kids know to pay attention to what we do. That’s what matters.

If we want to be the church God wants us to be, we must practice hospitality. That is my challenge to us all.

One last thing—about the Acts 16.5 Initiative: The session is wrestling with whether this particular thing is right for us. On one hand, it looks to be helpful in several ways. On the other, it requires a significant commitment over three years. The financial cost is reasonable and no obstacle, but we would need six enthusiastic volunteers who would commit to going to these seminars and then bringing back processes to implement in our congregation. After two days, we were still not quite sure all that it entails. It touches both how the church is organized and how we all live. Dr. Ott stressed it is not a program but a lifestyle.

Some of the things he addressed are not problems for us. Some churches are apparently afraid to try new things. We do that all the time. When they fail, we move on and try again. Other things, such as those I’ve shared this morning, hold promise. All three of us who went to the seminar feel the same way: we’re not sold on the Acts 16.5 Initiative yet, but we are so hungry to be a better church, a more vital church, that we are not ready to give up on it either.

So here is an invitation to all of you: If this sermon has whetted your appetite and you want to learn more about the Acts 16.5 Initiative, we have a fellowship dinner on February 15. I will be at a special table, and I will have with me all the materials the presbytery and Dr. Ott have given us. I’ll explain it as best I can, then the session and I would like your input. Meanwhile, be in prayer for us as we seek God’s will in this matter. I hope you pray for our session regularly. If not, you need to. We’re doing our best, but the task is great, for we want to lead our church to faithfulness. May we hear God’s call, and answer. Amen.

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