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May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock, and our redeemer. Amen.

Today is the Sunday of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity. To mark this, the congregations that belong to Churches Together in Winchester are engaged in a pulpit exchange as a mark of our commitment to the unity of the one Church in the life of the Spirit. And so on behalf of the Methodist and United Reformed churches which I represent, and the City Centre Chaplaincy, in which both the Cathedral and the United Church are actively involved, I bring greetings to you in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. It’s a privilege and a joy to be able to worship together as one.

It should come as no surprise to us, on an occasion when we’re sharing our pulpits with one another, to learn that our bible readings are all about hospitality. When Abraham welcomed the three men next to the oaks of Mamre who represented the presence of God, Abraham did everything in his power to ensure they received the respect and hospitality they were due. Importantly, for Abraham, it wasn’t the specifics of what he gave the visitors, or that he was available and willing to do so that was most important to him. These ‘things’ merely pointed to his intentions. Rather, it was the honour of being chosen to host that really mattered to him. It was what he and his people, in turn, received, that bore weight, rather than any material provision he could have supplied. In Abraham’s reckoning, to be hospitable was a matter of honour, not just one of courtesy.

I’m sure the kind of hospitality of which this lesson speaks evokes memories in many of us of when we too have received that same kind of generosity. This will be even more poignant if that experience was within a culture that, like Abraham’s, treats expressions of hospitality as a point of honour. For me, the particular memory it evokes takes me back to a trip to Zambia in 2011 in which I and other representatives from a church in Chandler’s Ford visited a rural congregation about 20km south of Lusaka. As we drove through the compound on our way to the church, we were guided to a humble homestead.

And when I say humble, I mean it. Mud brick walls, corrugated steel roof, and for water, a communal tap out in the street. The host was a woman of the church with her young son. I never learned her name.

On entering the house, our party of five was treated to a spread that could have fed twenty. The host stood by, urging us, practically begging us, to eat and eat. An empty plate was a reason for it to be filled once again, and I can remember seeing the young son looking on, somewhat hungrily, and feeling ashamed as we, the already well-fed westerners, were literally eating them out of house and home. Anyone who’s been in a similar situation will know how awkward this feels. You feel extremely uncomfortable given the scarcity of food you know to be the case, and yet you cannot risk offending or dishonouring your host whose sole purpose for that few moments is to tend to you, to wait on you, to make sure your hunger and thirst are sated and your body rested. I will never forget the dichotomous nature of that encounter, nor the unstinting grace and generosity she offered without thought to herself or her son. For her, it was a matter of honour to welcome the outsider. Our visit, no matter how conflicted it made me feel, brought honour on her household.

In Genesis 18 we see that same spirit of unstinting hospitality at work. Though Abraham, in contrast to my Zambian host, was of some considerable means, his ability to provide does not change the character of his welcome. He, the master, becomes the servant serving the visitor. He is the one standing throughout on hand to meet the needs of his guests at the drop of a hat. It is his willingness to serve and the intentions behind that service that affect the Lord’s favour, not the scale or specifics of the hospitality he treats them too.

In Ancient Greece the word used to describe this generous hospitality towards the stranger, the traveller, the visitor, was Xenia, and so important was its upkeep that responsibility for it fell to no less than the King of the Gods himself, Zeus. Nowadays, sadly, we’re more familiar with a word derived from it, Xenophobe, that being someone who fears, marginalises or even abuses the outsider or foreigner. At a time when our species seems intent on retreating behind national walls, what we need more than anything else is an outbreak of Xenia. We need acts of togetherness that counter our instinctual fear of the other, and I’m heartened, so very heartened to be part of a church scene in Winchester that sees this as a priority. We must resist our world’s descent into national and regional protectionism and self-serving populism, attitudes which are contrary to that most fundamental commandment at the heart of God’s law: to love our neighbour.

In our reading from Romans, the apostle Paul taught that when we attend to this fundamental commandment, we, in turn, are party to the fulfilment of Christ’s law of love. In the three short but vital verses we heard from his Letter, Paul sets before us his resolution to the tension between the Law and the Gospel.

His subtext is unequivocal, it doesn’t matter which of the 10 commandments you call to mind, which you might judge to be the most serious or damning, all of them are only ever manifestations of the greatest commandment: to ‘love your neighbour as yourself.’ As Paul says, ‘Love does no wrong to a neighbour; and therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law.’ If you love your neighbour, if you truly love your neighbour, Paul is saying, you would never set out to harm them. And let’s not forget that the neighbour Paul speaks of is anyone, and perhaps especially those who we might count as enemies.

It is my belief that the Church still has a vital role to play in demonstrating this commandment to the world at large, and to the local communities we are part of. Occasions like today encourage me because when we, as church, choose togetherness over otherness we embody the love of neighbour and fulfil the law of Christ. We act out that love and hospitality for the world to see and become an example of hope to them through Christ. This act of unity therefore is no mean feat – it sends out a signal to ourselves and others that says we choose not to walk our own way, or to mind our own business, or to protect our own interests. We’ve tried that way before, and it doesn’t lead anywhere fruitful in the long run.

Think not, therefore, of the expressions of unity we share today, in common with many churches around the globe, as mere courtesy. Think of them as an honour, a privilege, and the means by which the Lord’s favour may yet rest upon us. And in our lives as individual Christians, wherever our travels have taken us so far, and wherever they are still yet to go, may we hold the generosity of Christ in our hearts, intent on fulfilling his law of love with every fibre of our being – to the glory of his precious name. Amen.

Prayers

Let us pray …

Gracious God,

whose welcome knows no bounds and whose service was death on a cross for the sake of all,

we commend to you the cries of our hearts and the needs of the world in which we share.

Where there is enmity towards the other;

the stranger, the visitor, the refugee, the immigrant,

grant us the strength to be a voice for your generous hospitality.

Where we succumb to anxiety and distrust of that which we do not know or understand,

still our fears and return us to the heartbeat of Christ.

Where hospitality is squeezed out,

through lack of time, or of will, or because it’s just too complicated and difficult;

renew our sense of curiosity, our burning desire to know and be known,

our delight in honouring you through the honour we show one another.

Servant God,

in this Week of Prayer for Christian Unity,

we pray for the Body of Christ across these lands and throughout the world.

May we be united in our zeal for togetherness,

committed to our call for the rule of love,

and energised by your Spirit to live out that calling.

We remember those known to us who are in need of your comfort and guidance this day, and in a moment of quiet lift our concerns for them to you in prayer …

We remember, with thanksgiving, the lives of those who have gone on before us and now rest in your eternal glory …

For Bruce Thompson

Martin Perry

Lillian McKie

Rosemary Durward

Nigel Wing

and Alan Jones

We remember their families and loved ones, and all who grieve.

Lord in your mercy, hear our prayer.

Comfort all who suffer with the gentle embrace of your Holy Spirit,

that they may know they are loved, and may, in time, find the healing only you can provide.

We conclude our prayers with the grace …

May the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with us all, now and evermore. Amen.