Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner

This is Mission Sunday. The name ‘Mission Sunday’ triggered a memory that pulled itself from the far reaches of my cranial archives. About 49 years ago, Tommy Mitchell and I were chosen to represent St. Andrew School at a Mission Sunday pageant being held at the Cathedral in Boston. We were chosen for two reasons: we were both too intimidated by the good Sisters who taught us to do anything that would humiliate them or the school, and we were likely candidates for careers in religion. Tommy was not enticed by the honor to sign up for seminary; I, however, was, and those good nuns are probably rolling in their graves.

In a similar vein, each year we of First Congregational Church dedicate one Sunday as Mission Sunday. On this day we remind ourselves of the work that goes on in our name by the Mission and Christian Action Committees. We are invited to hear speakers from those agencies we support. And we go home feeling glad to be a part of a vibrant church community.

Yet the word ‘Mission’ doesn’t make your heart palpitate, does it? It is a word that like ‘retreat’ has lost religious definition and become associated with organizational long range planning. Defining mission statements and developing goals and objectives at retreats in board rooms or at neutral locations are standard tools for public and private organizations. What is our mission? How do we define ourselves in our publications and in our delivery of services? How are we most authentically ourselves as agencies, organizations or corporations?

I imagine many of you have been at one or more of those retreats. I have participated in these exercises in several organizations, including the United Way. These are clarifying moments for board members and staff because they help define a common theme that unites the staff and board of organizations. I must admit that as we sit in deep discussion during these retreats, a part of me is pondering that illusive separation between sacred and secular.

Mission Sunday is a reminder to all of us at First Church that we also have goals and objectives, but ours go back 2000 years. The dictionary meaning of Mission is ‘to be sent.’ Christ was sent. Christ sent his disciples to the ends of the earth. Throughout Christian history, people have been sent to preach the good news to those same ends of the earth. We at First Church do quite a bit of sending. We have a wonderful tradition of sending our youth on service trips to both urban and rural settings. We send groups to two hospitals; Hopital Albert Schweitzer in Haiti and James Hospital in South India. We have sent people to Israel/Palestine and next year we may travel to Jordan. Those experiences remind us of the vastness and complexity of God’s world. They strengthen the fragile bond of community that continues to bind us together in common hopes and dreams with sisters and brothers whose lives are so very different from our own.

But for me, at least, Mission means so much more than going forth. It also means hospitality. Rather than use the lectionary today, I chose two scripture readings that are invitational in theme. The first tells the story of the prophet Elijah being sent to a town in Sidon where a drought had caused terrible pain and suffering. A poor widow not only invited Elijah in to her home but, in sacramental hospitality, shared with him her last bit of grain despite the grim reality that she and her son would die of starvation. Her faithfulness earned her a miracle. Until the drought was ended, Elijah told her, she and her son would have grain and oil every day for the jar would never be empty; not full but never empty.

Those of us who have had the experience of hospitality given by those who cannot afford to give have participated in our own miracles. The James Hospital is such a miracle. Our groups have visited with knowledge; with special skills; with medical gifts; with monetary gifts. Prem and Senega have nothing to give but a warm welcome. Where our folks need to do; Prem and Senega gift the group with the great joy of simply being in community; in family with them and with the community that surrounds the hospital.

The Possibility Shop is another type of hospitality. The Shop has a diverse customer base. College students, bargain hunters and church staff members rub shoulders with folks on fixed incomes; refugees from many countries; people on public assistance; the marginal folks in the community. Although the Poss Shop makes use of vouchers to ensure that those who cannot pay can still find what they need; the equally hospitable element to the Shop is that those who have only a few dollars to spend are allowed the dignity to pay for what they need. The hospitality of self respect brings people back week after week and all those quarters, half dollars and dollars add up to a sizable amount that is used to keep the church in good condition and the Poss Shop open. There is no hand out in the shop; rather, there is mutual hospitality that creates an on-going miracle.

The second reading is from Luke and it proves that in 2000 years we haven’t learned a thing. Jesus was invited to a meal to which only the best people were asked to come. Where they sat determined their place in the community pecking order. To maintain that space or move up a notch required an even better banquet or a good stock tip or marrying the host’s daughter – all in the interest of self absorption. Annoyed by the excesses of the meal and the jockeying for position by the guests, Jesus stood up and challenged the host. “The next time you give a party, change the guest list. Forget the sycophants. Invite the poor, the blind, the crippled, the maimed who sit outside your door begging while you eat to excess. Invite all those who can’t possible pay you back. Bring them in and give them a good meal. If you do that, you will be blessed and they will be full.”

Our middle school youth do just that. They make a meal and bring it to Dismas House where they sit and eat with people whose lives have been crippled by prison. A small group does that each Saturday morning at Small Potatoes. After preparing bag lunches the corps of church members; our own and folks from other congregations, greet the guests with a smile and a welcome. On the steps of this church, our homeless and marginal sisters and brothers find welcome, warmth and the assurance the someone cares. Another small group practices movable hospitality as they bring meals to homebound persons through Meals on Wheels, visiting mobil home parks, houses and apartments with a warm meal and a cheery greeting. The isolation of age and illness is momentarily ended through the fodd and the visible reminder that they are not alone.

In each of these works of mission, that bond of human connection is reinforced, and the sacrament of Holy Communion is acted out.

The word ‘Mission’ doesn’t make your heart palpitate, does it? Well it should. Mission is a place of the heart; a place where soul meets soul and recognizes all that shared humanity. It is a place where justice and compassion join hands; a place where gifts of love, respect and laughter are given and received. It is the place that through our Baptism we have chosen as our home. On those occasions when we say our covenant together, we re-dedicate ourselves to our home as we commit again to do mission; to be mission. We say:

We covenant with the Lord and with one another to respond to God's call that we be people of God in the name of Jesus Christ. We take this to be our Church, promising to walk with our fellow members in faithfulness and Christian love. We accept as our responsibility the worship of God, the fellowship of this community, and the witness of our church. We claim as our mission the promotion of justice, human dignity and peace, and participation in meeting the unfolding needs of God's people. We bind ourselves to follow the leadings of God's spirit as God reveals them to us.

Today is Mission Sunday. It is a day of celebration. We have resources: people, money, ideas, commitment. We should celebrate the miracle that continues to provide us with the ability to think globally and act globally; to think locally and act locally. We should celebrate the on-going unfinished story and the possibility that while our story may be unfinished, there are many, many people who have found happy endings to their stories because of us.

But this day is also one of reflection. There is a banquet to which all God’s people are invited, including each one of us. How does it feel to sit down with a homeless, mentally ill woman or a young man just out of prison? Is it more comfortable to sit down with a lawyer or a teacher? Let’s not kid ourselves, we relate to those whose lifestyles or professions are similar to our own. It’s uncomfortable to be with those others. We don’t have anything in common. But we are all invited to the table. Maybe that is the miracle. If we can meet one another across a Saturday morning bag lunch or doing intake at JUMP or ringing up a POSS Shop sale; perhaps there will be a time when we become comfortable at the banquet. Perhaps there will come a time when we see in one another all those similar dreams and hopes and aspirations. Perhaps with each Mission Sunday we draw closer to our common humanity and the meeting of the unfolding needs of God’s people. This is our unfinished story. Amen.