Sermon for Friends Congregational Church

“Beggars Serving God”
Delivered by Reverend Dan De Leon

Sunday, September 2, 2007

Psalm 112; Luke 7:1, 7-14; Hebrews 13:1-8, 15-16

Grandpa was poor.  I mentioned recently in one of our Wednesday night worship services that my grandfather ran different cafes in Austin years ago.  Unfortunately, Grandpa didn’t have a whole lot of luck in the long run.  He never had a hugely successful restaurant.  And, as my Dad recalls, Grandpa always had a big rain cloud of debt looming over him.

Grandpa’s failed attempts in the restaurant business happened before I reached adolescence, so all I have are stories about what life was like for him and his family during those uphill years.  What I gather is that Grandpa may have been working in a kitchen or behind a café counter, but he was kind of a beggar.  Grandpa was serving up great food to hungry customers and practically begging them for their patronage—begging them for their money.

There was one thing Grandpa could always count on, though: “bowl of chili and a glass of milk.”  There was one guy who would come into Grandpa’s restaurant almost every day for lunch.  He’d sit in a booth, push the menu aside, and say, “Bowl of chili and a glass of milk.”  That’s how grandpa knew the guy.  He’d come walking up to the café, and the staff would say, “Here comes ‘bowl of chili and a glass of milk.’”  Needless to say, Grandpa was thankful for this customer’s business.

One day, this guy comes into the restaurant, same time as he always would.  He sat at his usual spot, shoved the menu aside and ordered his usual: a bowl of chili and a glass of milk.  When he was finished eating, he got the usual bill, pulled out his wallet and discovered that he had no money.  He was pretty embarrassed, but he was honest with my grandpa.  The guy said, “I’m really sorry about this.  I don’t have a red cent.  I could’ve sworn I had money in this wallet when I left the house today.”  But Grandpa stopped him right there and waved it off.  He said, “Don’t worry about it.  This one’s on the house.”

The beggar helped another beggar.  And the next day, the customer returned and ordered his usual.  He was served with no questions asked.  And when the bill came, he paid double.

It can be very awkward when someone approaches you on the street and begs you for money or for food.  It’s a very disarming feeling that can make you feel disheartened in a lot of ways.  You might feel sad for the person begging you for some gift.  You might feel sad for the state of affairs of our society that perhaps caused this person to be on the street begging.  Either way, it’s uncomfortable.

But remember this: You had to ask for help, too.  There were times in your life when you needed help, and you hated it, but you had to beg for it.  Whether you were on the street or in a hospital room or in a classroom or a church or your own home, you begged for help.  So, what is more awkward, the beggar approaching you for a gift of some kind, or having to beg for something yourself?

First, let’s be clear about something: Jesus was a beggar, and he taught his disciples to be beggars, too.  I always enjoyed the old bit from Sam Kinison, the Pentecostal preacher turned comedian, who said that there’s no way Jesus could ever have been married, because no wife would ever approve of him running around with 12 losers who wouldn’t get a job.  The disciples weren’t losers, but they certainly were beggars, and their leader was, too.

Jesus is usually making the Pharisees look bad, but in today’s story, Jesus is commending the Pharisees for taking him and his disciples in and serving them a meal.  And being the opportunistic teacher that he was, Jesus used this moment to teach a lesson about the kingdom of God and what that realm is like.

He looks around the room at his disciples and the host of the meal, and Jesus starts talking about where you’re supposed to sit.  “Sit at the spot farthest away from the host,” he says, “because those who humble themselves will be exalted and those who exalt themselves will be humbled.”

This can turn into a cartoon in hurry: A dinner party full of unlikely guests scrambling to the farthest chair from the host like some mad game of musical chairs, all for the sake of earning brownie points with God.  “Look at me, God, I’m in the last chair!  Look how humble I am!  Now, exalt me!”

But it’s not that simple.  And Jesus isn’t trying to make it that simple.  Just like with his parables, Jesus is using this example to illustrate kingdom living over worldly living.  He’s showing his disciples and the Pharisees at that dinner party what it’s like in the kingdom of God, and therefore what we should be striving toward establishing here on earth in the meantime.  So, it’s not about who can get to that last chair and win God’s favor.  It’s about who can be humble enough to be able to sit in that last chair at all.

Well, think again about those times when you had to beg for help.  You begged for an education.  You begged for someone to understand you.  You begged for food or money or shelter.  You begged for forgiveness.  You begged to be noticed.  You begged to be heard.  You begged for a job.  You begged for your child to be healthy.  You begged for justice and mercy.  You begged for love.  Now, who came to your rescue?  That person—those people in your life are sitting in the chairs that Jesus is talking about, and they will be exalted because they were so humble.  They will be exalted because they gave something to you with no hope of getting anything back.

That’s how God is humble.  God loves us and God gives to us with no hope of receiving anything in return.  How amazing is that?  God is our host and we are God’s guests at the table where all are served.  And we are called by Jesus to serve humbly as our God serves us.

But the difference between us and God is that God cannot be repaid.  We can.  The difference between us and God is that we might have opportunities in life to be givers, but God is always the giver.  God is always the host and we, all of us, are always beggars.

The Sri Lankan missionary, D.T. Niles, says that “evangelism is one beggar telling another beggar where to find bread.”  Now, I know that some of us have a problem with that word: ‘evangelism.’  You might have a bad connotation with it.  But reclaim that word and what it really means.  Evangelism is your Christian witness.  It is your way of putting your faith into action.

In the field of mission work, I’ve seen evangelism practiced manipulatively.  I’ve seen Christian missionaries give clothing and food to the poor on the condition that these poor recipients pray to receive Christ into their hearts.  And, turning the tables, I’ve seen Christian organizations receive donations from the generosity of the public only to later discard anything that is not exclusively Christian: books, records, movies…things like that.  I walked away from experiences like that with an impressive collection of discarded vinyl I must say, and thanks be to God.

Now, is that kind of evangelism humble?  Is that kind of evangelism serving someone else without the condition of receiving something in return?  And is that kind of evangelism humble enough to receive the gifts of others without conditions?  Does that kind of evangelism acknowledge by its actions that we are all beggars, not just the ones receiving assistance?

Since God is host of all, we are really behaving as guests, making no claims or conditions, and expecting no return.  With God as our host, we are beggars called to show beggars where to find food.  So, while we’re doing good deeds and scrambling to that far chair, are we being hosts or are we being guests?

In other words, are we playing God or are we serving God.  Playing God is bad evangelism.  Serving God is all we really can do.  Good evangelism starts with our acceptance of the fact that we are all beggars, and we are all guests at the table of God’s divine love.

Let’s look at the works of this church for a minute.  Some of us have served as greeters from time to time.  You welcome people when they come in the door, give them a bulletin, and you might even help them figure out where to go.  Well, after listening to this charge from Jesus today, we might be tempted to do the greeter responsibility for all the wrong reasons.  We might say, “Hey, they need a greeter on such and such a date.  There’s an empty space on the clipboard here for that responsibility.  Empty space…empty chair!  I get it now!  I’ll do this good deed because that’s what I’m supposed to do in the church, and God will see my good deed and I’ll be exalted!”

But remember this: You have been on the receiving end of that many times before.  You have been greeted at Friends Church: served with a bulletin and a smile.  You’ve been the beggar.  And if not at this church, then at a church in your past where you came to understand the hospitality of God, you came along as a beggar, and received a greeting in the name of Christ.  You received a greeting from someone who didn’t require anything in return from you.  All that person hoped for when you were greeted at the door was that you would be there—that you would be here at the table.

“Keep on loving each other as brothers.  Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some people have entertained angels without knowing it.”  I have seen a lot of different angels come into this place on Sunday mornings and Wednesday nights.  A Presbyterian woman who was in town handling difficult family business and needed a place to worship at 8:15 am and happened upon us, and later called the church to say how blessed she was to be here, and that we were just what she needed in a difficult time.

A drifter who needed money for bus fare to be with his family for the holidays who received the hospitality of a community of faith as he worshipped with us.  A gay man who hadn’t been courageous enough to attend a church in ten years for fear of being shown the door on account of his sexual orientation.  Evacuees from a Pentecostal church in Louisiana who lost their homes after Katrina, were separated from their loved ones and needed a place to rest and be with God.  Mothers whose infants woke them up at an ungodly hour and they just needed some place to go to get out of the house and find peace.  Not to mention every one of you with your own story you can insert into this litany of guests.  Now, wouldn’t you want to receive these angels and show them a hospitality that comes without conditions?  That kind of greeting is one beggar telling another beggar where to find bread, and that’s good evangelism.

Friends, the clearest sign of acceptance, the clearest sign of our equality and our fellowship with one another is breaking bread together.  Our God is the Divine Host who not only does that for us, God does that with us.  So, out of thanksgiving for this grace-filled hospitality, let us simply be the guests God hopes for us to be.  And as we learn and grow together at this table in the time given to us here on earth, may we never attempt to play God, but always strive to serve God.  Amen.