June 23, 2024
Genesis 18: 1-8 & 16
God appeared to Abraham at the Oaks of Mamre while he was sitting at the entrance of his tent. It was the hottest part of the day. He looked up and saw three men standing. He ran from his tent to greet them and bowed before them.
He said, “Master, if it please you, stop for a while with your servant. I’ll get some water so you can wash your feet. Rest under this tree. I’ll get some food to refresh you on your way, since your travels have brought you across my path.”
They said, “Certainly. Go ahead.”
Abraham hurried into the tent to Sarah. He said, “Hurry. Get three cups of our best flour; knead it and make bread.”
Then Abraham ran to the cattle pen and picked out a nice plump calf and gave it to the servant who lost no time getting it ready. Then he got curds and milk, brought them with the calf that had been roasted, set the meal before the men, and stood there under the tree while they ate.
When the men got up to leave, they set off for Sodom. Abraham walked with them to say good-bye.
My great-grandmother’s name was Anita Pauline Walker, and if that sounds southern it’s because Nanny was from Rison, Arkansas. The epitome of a southern lady, Nanny was genteel without being a snob, kind and loving, and the definition of a housewife who took pleasure and pride in that role. She also had a backbone of steel and a stubborn streak so wide she passed on to every member of my mother’s family.
When I think of Nanny I think of Arkansas, first of her home in Pine Bluff with its fruit trees, screened porch, and her completely pink - and also completely separate from my great-grandfather’s - bedroom and bathroom. Then her little duplex in Heber Springs where she moved after my great-grandfather died with its galley kitchen and the hutch that held her collection of delicate teacups and saucers.
And when I think of Nanny, I think of her hospitality. She was an excellent cook and a visit to her house always included food. As she got older, we were occasionally able to talk her out of a full meal - though snacks and drinks were unavoidable - and she would let us help with some of the preparations, though she was always the last to sit. Even when she needed a walker she fussed around after the rest of us were seated, getting spoons and the sugar for our iced tea. Then insisted the rest of us sit in the cushioned dining chairs because she was “just fine” using the seat on her walker.
I once asked my mom why Nanny insisted on fussing over us. Why wouldn’t she let us help her more? Mom explained that hospitality was ingrained in Nanny, it was second nature, part of her culture. She didn’t know any other way to be. More importantly, fussing was Nanny’s way of showing us love.
Nanny likely wouldn’t have seen herself in either of this morning’s stories - I can hear her sweet voice saying, “Oh Darlin, your Nanny just loves having you here” - but I certainly do. And just as Nanny’s hospitality extended beyond the basic definition of receiving and entertaining guests, Horton and Abraham’s hospitality is expansive. Horton risks his safety to stand up for the Whos his neighbors are irrationally callous towards while Abraham welcomes three strangers without hesitation.
Abraham’s welcome of these three men is remarkable in the context of his larger story. According to the text, Abraham is 99 years old and three days post performing his own circumcision when this story takes place. Abraham, his first son Ishmael, and “all the men of his house” are circumcised per God’s instructions to establish a covenant with God. This covenant will fulfill God’s promise to make Abraham the father of many nations and give him and Sarah the child they think they’re too old to have.
But all of that comes later and for now, Abraham sits “at the door of his tent” (Gen 18:1). No one could fault him for still being in bed. Abraham is 99 years old after all, this should be a time of healing as his covenant with the Lord has been cut in [his very flesh].[1] There’s no doubt he’s in pain, and yet he sits and is there when three men show up in the heat of the day. Then seeing them, Abraham doesn’t wait for the men to come to him. He does send a servant to offer them water or limp out on a cane. The text says Abraham “ran from the tent...and bowed himself to the earth.” In fact, there’s a hurriedness to all of these verses, everything is done “quick” or “quickly” and Abraham does quite a bit of running.
Another striking element of this story is Abraham’s description of what he’s going to serve the visitors and what he, with Sarah’s help, ends up serving them. In verse 5 Abraham tells the men he’s fetching “a little water” and “a morsel of bread.” In actuality, he gives them a whole calf, curds and milk, and cakes. And these aren’t just any cakes, the Hebrew word for the flour Sarah uses is “solet, a word that appears in 1 Kings 4:22...to describe the type of flour for the wealthy Solomon.”[2] The word is used again in Ezekiel 16 “to describe the choice food with which God feeds Jerusalem, [so] this is no mere morsel or dry crust!”[3]
Why does Abraham under-promise and over-deliver? I’m not sure. It could be to keep from seeming arrogant about his ability to provide. Or to pleasantly surprise his guests by not getting their hopes up. Perhaps it’s because in the moment he’s not quite sure what’s in the pantry that’s good enough to serve folks who aren’t family. No matter his reasons Abraham extends “lavish hospitality…[and] assures that these guests [are] welcomed most properly.”[4]
Would Abraham’s hospitality be so grand if he hadn’t recognized something divine in these men? If there were just human men and not, as Abraham recognizes when he gets up close, God herself? We’ll never know.
But even before Abraham sees these strangers up close, he runs to greet them. Even before they appear in front of his tent, Abraham sits, despite his age and pain, at his front door. He waits in the heat of the day to welcome whoever might appear. In his case it’s God herself, comes to share news of a remarkable promise.
My friends the Good News this morning is that we have the opportunity to recognize God in everyone we encounter. We have the opportunity to shower them with radical hospitality as Abraham does. We have the opportunity to show them kindness and love that others might not be able or willing to offer. We have the opportunity to protect and advocate with them as Horton does for all the Whos in Whoville.
And as people of faith it is our call, our mandate, our task when everyone is tired of making the effort or has been burned by those who’re more than willing to take advantage to give and serve, love and respect the strangers among us remembering the profound theology Horton teaches us: “A person’s a person, no matter how small.”[5]
[1] Samuel Giere, “Commentary on Genesis 18: 1-10a” from https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=2934
[2] Sarah Koenig, “Commentary on Genesis 18: 1-10a” from https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=1727
[3] Ibid.
[4] Giere, ibid.
[5] Dr. Suess, Horton Hears a Who.
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