We are a welcoming church. I’m sure of it. I’ve experienced it.
I’ve been here with you for just over two months. I’ve attended committee meetings, eaten with the Lion’s Ladies, snacked with the Crafty Stitchers, watched WOW Kids classes, sat in on Faith in Motion sessions, led worship, visited a few of you, and enjoyed some of the other privileges of being your pastor. And at every turn, I’ve been greeted by smiling faces and open arms.
We are a welcoming church. I’m sure of it. I’ve experienced it.
But welcoming me is easy. Like I said a few weeks ago on Palm Sunday, I am — and this is not an exhaustive list — a straight white cis-gendered able-bodied neuro-typical well-educated English-speaking professional middle class man between the ages of 18 and 49 who lives in the United States of America. I am a lot like most of you. And while we might not check all the same boxes, there’s a lot of overlap between you and me. It’s easy for us to be welcoming to each other.
Today we are having our annual celebration of extravagant welcome. We are reaffirming our covenant as an open and affirming congregation of the United Church of Christ. We are telling our community that, while we might not always be as good at it as we want to be, we are a welcoming church.
And that’s good. That’s a good start. But while we are celebrating what we have done and what we are doing, it’s important to recognize that there is still work to do.
We are a welcoming church. I’m sure of it. I’ve experienced it. But we are a welcoming church on the easy setting.
In today’s reading from Acts, Peter is on his roof, praying. Peter is a Christian. He is a disciple and an apostle of Jesus the Christ.
He is a leader in the church. And he knows what the church is: a community of Jewish people who have found the Jewish messiah and been saved for the kingdom of the God of the Jewish people.
He knows that the church is a place for people like him. He knows that Christianity is a religion for people like him. He knows that
Christ is a savior for people like him.
Maybe not people exactly like him, but people who check a lot of the same boxes.
What Peter does not know is that, right now, some people who are not like him are on their way. Because a man named Cornelius had a vision. An angel said to him,
Cornelius, your prayers and your alms have ascended as a memorial before God. Send men to Joppa to find a man named Simon who is called Peter. He is staying with another man named Simon, a tanner, whose house is by the seaside.
So Cornelius sent the men. And Cornelius is a gentile. And Cornelius is an outsider. And, to Peter at least, Cornelius is not one of us.
And that’s when Peter has his vision. He is praying. He is hungry. He has a vision.
Heaven opens up. A sheet comes down. It is covered with beasts and reptiles and birds. And a voice says, “Peter…kill and eat.”
And that’s a problem. Because these are not Jewish foods. Peter knows that he cannot eat them. They are profane and unclean.
And I want to be clear about this. It’s easy for us to hear this story and think that the sheet is full of cheeseburgers and bacon wrapped shrimp. And c’mon Peter… eat.
On Sunday nights, Mariah and I get together with some friends and watch The Amazing Race. That’s the show where pairs of people race around the world completing challenges and trying to win a million dollars. And some of the challenges involve eating weird things. They’ve had to eat frogs and crickets and scorpions and live octopus and cow’s lips.
And if anything on that list made you cringe, that’s what Peter feels when that sheet comes down. Only he can see it. And smell it.
And it’s easy for him to say, “Eww… I’m not eating that.”
And if nothing on that list made you cringe, then I look forward to rooting for you on Sunday nights when I watch The Amazing Race.
But Peter can see it and smell it. And it’s easy for him to say, “I’m not eating that.”
And there’s this voice from heaven, and it says, “Peter, what God has made clean, you cannot call profane.” And this happens a few times. And the sheet disappears. And heaven closes. And Peter is confused.
And the men who Cornelius sent arrive.
Peter goes with them. He meets Cornelius. He delivers the good news. The Spirit falls upon these gentiles. And they are baptized into the church… this church that just a little while ago Peter knew was people like him.
Maybe not people exactly like him, but people who check a lot of the same boxes. People who check the Jewish box.
Peter’s vision is not about food. It’s about people.
It’s not just about people. It’s about the frogs of people, the crickets of people, the scorpions of people, the live octopus of people, the cow’s lips of people. And to Peter, that’s Cornelius, and his household, and you, and me.
We are here today in this church because a voice said, “Peter, what God has made clean, you cannot call profane.” We are here today in this church because Peter listened to that voice, put aside his discomfort, and welcomed Cornelius and his household into the Christian community.
[bctt tweet=”We are here today in this church because Peter listened to that voice, put aside his discomfort, and welcomed Cornelius and his household into the Christian community.” username=”cmarlinwarfield”]
And 2,000 years of history can make this hard to see, but Peter did that on the hard setting.
And we are called to do that, too.
We are a welcoming church. I’m sure of it. I’ve experienced it. But we are called to reach beyond the welcome we’ve extended so far. We are called to welcome – and be welcomed by – the people who make us the most uncomfortable. The people who make us nervous when they move into our neighborhoods. The people who we cross the street from when we see them coming. The people who make us cringe when they sit in our sanctuary.
And while that is hard to do, I am not kidding about it.
Now, I need to be clear here. I am not suggesting that anyone owes hospitality to anyone who has hurt them or abused them. There are times when we have to ignore someone, when we have to turn away from someone, when we have to walk away from someone. There are times when that is the right thing to do.
But still… we are called to be daring in our hospitality.
In today’s gospel reading, Jesus tells us what we need to do to enter the Kingdom of God. He tells us what it means to believe in Christ. It means giving food to the hungry and drink to the thirsty and welcome to the stranger. He tells us what it means to have faith in Christ. It means clothing the naked, caring for the sick, and visiting the prisoner.
Being daring in our hospitality means doing those things when they are easy and when they are hard.
It means giving food to the hungry and drink to the thirsty and clothing to the naked even when we think that they might be taking advantage of us.
It means welcoming the stranger even when they are a refugee from a dangerous country or someone who came into our nation illegally.
It means caring for the sick even when they are contagious and we are afraid.
It means visiting the prisoner even when they are in prison for a heinous crime… and letting the parolee into our fellowship even when that makes us uncomfortable.
It might even mean learning new skills, crafting new policies, creating new programs, or renovating our building. It could mean coming face-to-face with the law and the courts. It certainly taking risks. It absolutely means being open to being changed.
When Peter met Cornelius, he said, “You yourselves know that it is unlawful for a Jew to associate with or to visit a Gentile; but God has shown me that I should not call anyone profane or unclean. So when I was sent for, I came without objection.”
And when Peter preached to Cornelius and his household, he said, “Can anyone withhold the water for baptizing these people who have received the Holy Spirit just as we have?”
Cornelius changed because of the work that God did in him. And Peter changed, too, because of the work that God did in him.
That is the work of welcome. In welcome – in extravagant welcome, in holy welcome, in divine welcome – the one who is welcomed is changed. In welcome – in extravagant welcome, in holy welcome, in divine welcome – the one who welcomes is changed.
In welcoming each other – people who are like us, people who are not like us – we welcome God and Christ and the Holy Spirit.
That is a risky thing. That is a daring thing. That is a holy thing.
May God grant us the grace to be daring in our welcome.
[bctt tweet=”In welcoming each other we welcome God and Christ and the Holy Spirit. We do a risky, daring, holy thing. May God grant us the grace to be daring in our welcome.” username=”cmarlinwarfield”]