the Sacrament of Hospitality

I went to a funeral last Thursday. One of my friends had an 84-year-old grandfather who passed away at home and a couple of us guys took a road trip to attend the funeral in honor of our friend. When we pulled in to the parking lot at the Old German Baptist Brethren church we realized we were guests in a different culture. Most of the people we saw outside the church were plain-dressed folk, much like the Mennonites or Amish. There were groups of men; thin, handsome and bearded with their black, wide-brimmed hats standing and discussing the important things that men must be concerned with. There were family groups; holding the hands of toddlers, carrying the babies, and strolling toward the front doors. The ladies, with their hair up in bonnets, ankle-length dresses and long, sleeveless over-garments were entering through one door, while the men were moving toward another. And there were a few others who, like ourselves, were dressed in our strip-mall and super-store wardrobes.
My friends and I hung out in front of the large, plain, immaculate meetinghouse to enjoy the midwinter sunshine before the service began. A young man, wearing a black felt hat and black dress coat buttoned at the neck, welcomed my friends and me and engaged us in conversation. He was the first of many to greet us warmly and express genuine interest in how we came to be in their fellowship on that day.
When we entered the building, through the door that the other men were using, our new friend caught our eye and invited us to sit with him. For the next hour and a half we sat on plain, wooden, hand-made pews and listened to heartfelt sermons centered on the glory of a life lived in God’s will and the comfort and encouragement that our Lord and our religion provides when a loved one passes into eternity. And we joined our voices with those of the Brethren in singing acapella hymns. As soon as the first hymn number was announced the men around us handed my friends and me their personal hymnal to use. The gentleman who sat in front of me turned, and with a silent gesture offered me his hymn book. It was both well worn and well preserved, obviously a prized possession.
The sky had grown overcast while we were in the church and a stiff breeze blew across the snow at the graveside. After another, shorter sermon we sang many more hymns as the casket was sealed in a vault and lowered into the grave. Many of the men came forward and shoveled dirt into the grave until it was completely filled. And with that we were dismissed to the church basement for a meal.
In the church basement were many long wooden tables already set with table service and family-style dishes of food. Warm ham sandwiches, water and coffee were distributed until everyone had more than enough to eat. As the meal ended and folks got up to go their separate ways my friends and I visited with many more of the church members, and finally had to persuade one another that we needed to go home.
On the trip home we talked at great length about all we had experienced and what we observed and thought about the culture of the Old German Baptist Brethren we visited. But the one thing we kept returning to was the tremendous hospitality that the people expressed to us. We were three men from a much different community. Our culture and customs were fundamentally different from theirs. They have forsaken so much of the technology and conformity that we religiously embrace. But we hung our hats on hooks right next to theirs and shoveled dirt into the grave of their patriarch alongside their young men. They shared their hymnbooks and dinner table with us and warmed our hearts with the stories of their lives.
And so I find myself reflecting on the events of that day from my current perspective several days later. I am so moved by the hospitality and Christ-like love that these people expressed to me because so many people who I am much more familiar with treat other people, including me, the same way. I don’t have to look any further afield than my own home to find one who gives unselfishly, of the things most dear to her, to anyone God places in her path. No matter how their lifestyle or personal choices may differ from hers.
I have good friends who will accept me and include me and show me the way without expecting anything from me in return. I have an extended family and a church family who set a place at the table for me even though I do not always conform or contribute.
I thank God for taking me on a road trip to an Old German Baptist Brethren church to show me this.