Have We Entertained Angels?

As I read through both of our books for Lent, I am struck by how much overlap there is.  Both authors have a deep and abiding concern for creation.  There is talk of the fertile, precious soil, about how we are muddy (and sometimes polluting) ones by and in nature, and about how water animates all life and occupies most of the earth's surface.

And as I read Greene-McCreight's chapter on angels, skipping from dirt and water to completely ethereal beings, I was struck at the chord of hospitality that runs through scripture: "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it." Hebrews 13:2  

We don't talk much about angels these days because, well, they are God's messengers and we're just not sure what to say. They show up and do God's bidding.  They make grand announcements at significant points in scripture.  They wrestle with persons like Jacob.  And, yet, we have this injunction to show hospitality just in case we are entertaining angels unaware.

I find that fascinating because it somehow fits into the need for a more hospitable impulse in our relationship with creation and each other.  As Greene-McCreight notes, we have acted as if the world is our playground.  And it is not.  We have been less than hospitable in our relationships with each other, this we know (just watch our political arena on any given day).  But do we stop to think about the world we create with inhospitable action and words, the world we leave behind, the footprint of our collective being?

There is no doubt that I have little to no understanding of Einstein's postulations about black holes and their gravitational waves in space and time.  One scientist said "it is the first time the universe has spoken to us in gravitational waves."  The beauty of what we study this Lent is that both authors insist that the universe, God, is speaking to us all the time.  God is still showing up, still redeeming, still creating, still calling us to hospitality/stewardship.

And our present reality is that we sojourn through Lent while our trees are bare, our lawns are dead, and plants struggle to retain some greenness.  In parallel fashion, perhaps our relationship with God, with creation, has grown too wintry?  I remember reading Karl Rahner's book entitled Faith in a Wintry Season.  Rahner says “the devout Christian of the future will be a ‘mystic,’ that is, a person who has ‘experienced’ something…”  But what is this mystical experience, this something?  

Perhaps part of the mystical experience is an awareness of the deeper hospitality of the living Christ that we bear in our very own bodies, in our relationships, in the broader community/creation. Perhaps this is the only way to entertain angels aware and unaware with grace and hospitality.

Every Christian community is meant to be the sacramental presence of God’s promise to the world: divine presence in unconditional love of neighbor.   How can we do this with greater grace, truer hearts, and more faithful bodies?  

Good questions for us all to ponder on this "Valentine's Day" when we celebrate the mystery of love with boxes of chocolate, flowers and cards.  Maybe love is more.  Maybe we are called to show it and celebrate it with greater respect and hospitality through kindness, compassion, a composure of giving rather than taking.

A prayer from Walter Brueggemann:

You are the giver of all good things.

All good things are sent from heaven above,

rain and sun, 

day and night,

justice and righteousness,

bread to the eater and

seed to the sower,

peace to the old,

energy to the young,

joy to the babes.

We are takers, who take from you,

day by day, daily bread,

taking all we need as you supply,

taking in gratitude and wonder and joy.

And then we take more,

taking more than we need,

taking more than you give us,

taking from our sisters and brothers,

taking from the poor and the weak,

taking because we are frightened, and so greedy,

taking because we are anxious, and so fearful,

taking because we are driven, and so uncaring.

Give us peace beyond our fear, and so end our greed.

Give us well-being beyond our anxiety, and so end our fear.

Give us abundance beyond our drivenness,

and so end our uncaring.

Turn our taking into giving...since we are in your giving image:

Make us giving like you,

giving gladly and not taking,

giving in abundance, not taking,

giving in joy, not taking,

giving as he gave himself up for us all,

giving, never taking.

Amen.