Hospitality

In his book, The Celtic Way of Evangelism (Copyright 2000 by Abingdon Press), George Hunter compares and contrasts the Roman Church traditions of the first four centuries of the church with St. Patrick’s effort to bring the gospel to the Celts. One way Hunter begins to unpack the differences is to describe the respective monastic communities. The Roman monastic communities were generally removed from the center of the community and culture for purposes of renunciation of the world and to allow time to meditate on the divine. The Celtic monasteries on the other hand were planted in the center of the culture and community as an outpost to the community and a veritable lifesaving station for passersby.

Hospitality was a hallmark of these faith communities. What might you find if you stopped at one of these monasteries? When you arrived a porter would meet you, welcome you and introduce you to other members of the community. The abbot would inquire about your life situation and what brought you to their community, and then offer you a prayer, a scripture and a kiss of peace. The abbot’s time with you would conclude as he washed your feet and instructed his staff to make you a comfortable place to sleep. If the abbot was in a period of fasting, he would break fast in order to serve your needs.
These monks took seriously Benedictine Rule #53 that “All guests who present themselves are to be welcomed as Christ.” Over time, visitors would be invited to join in the work and spiritual life of the community—sharing concern and joy, work and recreation. Some visitors would eventually become residents, and many “barbarians” became Christian disciples. It’s amazing how a little hospitality can move an outsider first to belonging and in time to believing.

We at CUMC must take seriously Benedictine Rule #53 and respond to the echo of Christ’s voice, “I was a stranger and you welcomed me.” What can we learn from St. Patrick and his Celtic followers who took hospitality to a whole new level?

blizzard

With the snow falling sideways today, I reflected in church about how grateful I was that we all had a place to be--inside, safe, secure, loving, sanctuary. I remember as I get ready, for bed with the snow still falling, how many people around the world have no sanctuary--no walls and roof to separate inside from outside, no safe place to hide, no place to remember the goodness of God and humanity, no sanctuary. I'm still grateful, but I won't be satisfied until each person on this green and blue orb have those those necessities. I'm going to keep fighting for peace, justice and sanctuary for all God's children.
plou

Lenten Fast

Every year people ask me, "What are you giving up for Lent?" And usually my answer is, "Nothing." This year, however, I decided to try not eating from dinner until bedtime. Yesterday, was day two and that was the second day that I considered throwing in the towel. I thought this would be easy, but it's not. I can't tell you how many times between 7 p.m. and midnight I open the snack cupboard or frig. The question as I enter day three is, "Why?" I've eaten three square meals. It is certainly not because my body is starving to death.

I think much of our lives are lived on automatic pilot. We simply do things a certain way because we always have or usually do. We don't think. We simply act. We become puppets in our own game of life. I'm learning that we need to be master's of our impulses if we are to be subject to God's will, but I have 38 days more to learn how to get off automatic pilot and learn to let God be my pilot. I suspect after 38 days, I will still have lots to learn, but every journey starts with one step!
plou

Fat Tuesday

Lent starts on Wednesday. Wow! It came so fast this year--hardly enough time to celebrate Christmas, start sinning and have something to confess. Just kidding. Apparently it's no problem at all for me as I tip the scales 15 pounds heavier than 6 weeks ago. I don't know how it happened--a cookie here, a scoop of ice cream there and "Voila!" Fat Tuesday came early this year.
The truth is that sin usually works that way. A little here, a little there, until sin's weight (pardon the play on words) finally overwhelms us. Most of us don't fall in huge ways, we wander away a little bit at a time from the One who loves us. Those little wanderings eventually take us a long way from home.
I am turning now toward Home. I am hoping that over the course of Lent I will make my way little by little toward Home. It's good to know that Jesus is up the path ahead of me--the Pioneer of my faith, guarding, guiding all the way.