God-Directed Surprising Hospitality - Proverbs 16:9; John 13:1-8, 12-17; Luke 22:14-20 - BREAKAWAY SUNDAY STAFF WORSHIP

“The human mind plans the way, but the Lord directs the steps.” 

My brothers and sisters, how many of you like surprises?

Some surprises are good.  A surprise birthday party.  A surprise financial bonus from work or a gift from a family member.  A surprise visit from a loved one.  A surprisingly good grade on an exam .

Some surprises are not good.  Turning in a paper after hours of hard work, only to realize that it was supposed to be on another topic.  News of the unexpected death of a family member or friend.  A call from the boss to come into the office only to learn of being laid off.

Surprises come because what we expect does not happen.  Tonight we come to observe two surprises.

The disciples had gathered in with Jesus after a whirl-wind week in Jerusalem.  They knew what that night was about.  It was a night to remember.  In their minds they had planned out the whole evening.  It happened every year.  It was time to observe the Passover meal, remembering how God had surprisingly brought His people out of slavery in Egypt.   They gathered to share a common meal, and here is where the unexpected happened—where what the men had planned ran into what God, in Christ, was doing—and thanks to the gift of two Gospel readings tonight, we are able to reflect on both of these events.

Reading of John 13:1-8, 12-17

The Gospel of John, as we have just heard, lifts to us the fact that Jesus and his disciples had gathered in the room and they were sharing a meal.  Suddenly, during the meal, Jesus got up, went to the side of the room took off his outer robe and fasted a towel about his waist.  Jesus then took water and a basin and went about the table washing each of his followers’ feet.  Why would Jesus do this?  Peter wanted to know that too…but for a different reason than we do.

The idea of washing feet at someone’s house, much less during a meal, is foreign to us and our culture.  We wash our feet when we take a shower or a bath.  If we are an athlete or a dancer, or someone else very dependent on our feet we may wash them when we change shoes, but that is it.  We would never expect anyone else to be washing our feet.  However, things were different in the days of Jesus.  We have cars, motorcycles, bicycles, and buses to get us where we need to go.  Jesus and his followers had a horse, a camel, a donkey, or most likely ol’ “Pat and Charlie,” their feet.  Most often they walked where they went…and as they walked, they often did not have sidewalks or even paved roads, they walked along dirt roads or trails.  They did not have Timberland, Solomon, or Merrel Moab hiking boots.  They had sandals or bare feet.  This meant that as they walked from place to place, their feet became covered with dust, dirt, and mud.  If they were not careful about watching where they walked amongst all the livestock of the area, their feet were apt to be covered with other stuff as well.  Because of this aspect of their culture, when folks arrived at a person’s home, the host of the meal was expected to either have one of his servants wash the feet of his guests, or, if he did not have servants for that job, he was responsible at least providing water, a towel, and a basin for a person to wash their own feet.  It was unheard of for the host of the meal to wash the feet of his guests, which is what makes the scene so shocking.  Jesus, as the host of the meal, becomes the vehicle of hospitality, kneeling at each disciple and gently cradling their foot as he washes the grime and gunk from it.  Yet here was Jesus, not only the host of this meal, but the Messiah, taking on the role of a servant, a slave.  No wonder Peter objected.

After he had finished, Jesus explained to them—this, my friends, is what you are to do for one another.  This is how folks will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another…and that love must be displayed in this radical form of hospitality.  You are to serve one another, without hesitation, without reluctance, but wholly and completely out of love. 

This is why the church, through the last two thousand years has observed the rite of footwashing—in order to remember Jesus’ call for us to serve one another with radical hospitality.  However, as we move more and more away from the time of Jesus, the concept becomes foreign to us.  Our feet aren’t as dirty as were the disciples.  We drive or ride places.  If we travel by foot, we are most likely going to have socks and shoes on our feet to protect them and keep them clean.  We usually don’t worry about washing our feet when we go to someone’s house and prepare to have a meal with them.  So how do we take the concept of what Jesus did for the disciples, and bring it forward for us.  A colleague of mine suggested this part of tonight’s service, his congregation has begun observing a “handwashing service” on Holy Thursday.  Why?  Because many of us, especially when it comes to contact with another person’s hands worry about them being dirty and germy.  Think about our obsession with the cleanliness of someone’s hands.  How many of us shake our heads in disgust if we are in a public bathroom and someone leaves without washing their hands—reminding us why the doorknob or handle is dirtier than the toilet?  How closely do we watch someone preparing or serving our food to see if, we can, whether they are wearing gloves or whether they have washed their hands?  We worry about passing germs through handshakes and other hand contact that now, rather than covering your mouth with your hand when you cough, you are supposed to cough into the cradle of your elbow.  How often are we in a house with parents and children and we here, most often the mom, ask the child, “did you wash your hands,” or “go wash up for supper”?  Yet, every time it is about washing our own hands.

Tonight, we are being given the opportunity to do for another, what they might be able to do for themselves.  Tonight, we are invited to humble ourselves in the same way that Jesus washed the disciples’ feet, and with disregard for what may be on our neighbor’s hands, and wash their hands tonight.  You are invited to come to the table in pairs tonight.  You are invited to take the water and a towel and in an act of service, wash your neighbor’s hands in an act of pure servant hospitality, then allow them to offer you the same servant hospitality.  Then, as you leave the station, you are invited to take the towel with you as a reminder this week of our call not to be served, but to serve.

Handwashing…

Read Luke 22:14-20

Footwashing was not the only surprise that Jesus offered that night…the other surprise is the one we most often remember, mainly because the other three Gospel writers each offer us this event, is the meal that Jesus shared with his disciples.  We talk hear discussion of how Jesus and his disciples had gathered for a Passover meal, and then surprised his friends.  He took the bread, blessed it, and broke it, saying, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.”  Toward the conclusion of the meal, Jesus took the cup, blessed it, and said to the disciples, “This cup that is poured out is the new covenant in my blood” and shared it with the disciples.  However, there is one thing that we often miss that is important to our understanding of this meal.  To understand this aspect of the meal we need to know something about the culture of Jesus’ time.  This surprise takes us again to the area of hospitality.  In the time of Jesus, there was in place, at a gathered or communal meal, the understanding of a “covenant of hospitality.”  This understanding was that if you shared food with another, you were entering into a sacred covenant with that person.  If you shared food with another, you were expected to do everything in your power to protect that person from any kind of harm, and if you failed to do so, you were inviting curses down upon yourself.  Once you entered this covenant of hospitality, you were bound by it as long as the food remained in the person’s body.

My brothers and sisters, we need to reclaim that aspect of this Holy and Sacred meal, that as we break the bread and share the cup, we remember that we enter into a covenant of hospitality with those whom we share the meal, not just tonight, but each and every night this week.  We are given the responsibility to do all that we can to care for those with whom we share this meal.  We are bound to one another, responsible for one another, through this hospitality covenant, we are our brothers’ (and sisters’) keeper.  It is serious business sharing this meal, and Jesus invites us into this servant relationship, where we very well may be called to lay down our life for another just as He did for each of us, as we are bound to Him through this sharing of this meal.  Because less we think this responsibility is just for the length of time that the bread and juice pass through our system, let’s remember that what we share is more than bread and juice…the Holy Spirit transforms it into the Body and Blood of Christ and as we receive it, through that same Spirit, through the grace of God, it becomes part of who we are, not just for twenty-four or forty-eight hours, but for eternity.

My brothers and sisters, our God, as made visible through Jesus, is about surprises.  We may know what we expect, but if we open our eyes to the work of God, we will encounter surprises.  That includes this week.  Several of us have been here at Louisburg before—some of us for the first time last year, others of us for more years that we would care to admit.  We think we know what to expect.  We may have plans for how each thing will go—whether it is our growth groups, our living worship groups, our dorm groups, free-time activities, worship services, or even sermons—but let us not be so bound by our human laid plans that we miss the life-changing surprises that God may direct into our schedule this week—a question asked, a comment made, a gift revealed, a struggle uncovered—because those surprises God may bring in and our response to them, may have eternal significance. And those, my fellow servants, are surprises we can all celebrate.

In the Name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.