Bonjour!S’il vous plait.Merci.Well, that about does it for my knowledge of the French language!Just 2 years ago, I took my first trip out of the country – I mean really out of the country.I’d been to Canada for a brief visit and to the islands a few times, but never completely across the seas.My husband and I spent two weeks in Paris, in a primarily residential area, and as you can imagine from my admittedly limited language skills and travel history, I was definitely a stranger in a foreign land.
We’ve all been strangers at some point in our lives.The ‘foreign land’ can be literal, as in my recent experience.It doesn’t have to be across the globe either. Even a different part of this country can feel foreign.If you haven’t spent much time in the south and you were to visit and hear “rat”, no need to run for cover or call the exterminator.They are either giving a direction – turn “rat”, or they are agreeing with you – that’s “rat”.We could do the same thing with the dialects of the east coast or northern territory.
The ‘foreign land’ can be metaphorical or simply suggest a different environment. Think for a moment of the times when you yourself were a ‘stranger in a foreign land’:the new kid in the class, guest in someone’s home for the first time, new neighbor on the block,student again after 20 years out of school, newly single after a long-term relationship ended, the new colleague in an office where everyone else is just half your age!And don’t forget first-time visitor to services on a Sunday morning – maybe at a UU congregation.It can be quite intimidating.It can be disconcerting, to say the least, to be the stranger either trying to fit in, or find a comfortable corner to hide in.
To some degree it’s simply human nature to desire sameness and be uncomfortable with what is different.As strangers, we have a tendency to place our focus on the differences.“Well, that’s weird.”“Why in the world do they do that?” or “wear that?” or “look like that?”I found myself saying some of those things during my first few days in Paris – noticing for the most part only the differences.I’ve discovered that people often do this when they find themselves in a different environment or situation – when their comfort level is being challenged.Our focus goes right to the differences.And rather than appreciate the differences the tendency is to take a defensive posture we compare the foreign with what is familiar.As the stranger in a foreign land, I needed to recognize that the ‘strangeness’ I was seeing and feeling was my own.Strangers have a responsibility to accept that we are the strange ones, if you will!A responsibility, once accepting our role, to then find commonalities.
If we can pull the covers off the differences we might just find that underneath there is much we have in common regardless of language, culture, religion, or any other factor.
After my initial focus on how different things were in Paris, I became enamored with the city and declared it the most wonderful place to be.I went from “Why do they do that?”to “Why don’t we do that?”It was the opposite end of the spectrum, and just as fallible.Again, the focus was on the differences.It wasn’t until I was able to remove my proverbial rose colored glasses, that a closer look allowed me to see the commonalities.
As the Bateaux Mouche pushed through the waters of the Seine, on our hour-long ride, there were breath-taking sights at every turn.And then I noticed that under one or two of the many bridges, and scattered along the banks here and there, were khaki tents and makeshift wooden & cardboard structures. These were the homeless villages.One complete with a metal barrel barbecue pit, mismatched lawn chairs, and parasol from an abandoned ice cream cart.I later learned that the khaki tents were delivered during the previous year, from the aid group Doctors of the World.But lately, there had been complaints pouring into City Hall about the tents.The tents were hard to miss as you would stroll down the chic avenues.And that seemed to be the problem.The government’s stance was “No tents”, period.The aid group said it would take down one tent for every permanent housing option provided by the government.
In the meantime one of the homeless Parisians was reported as saying, “I realize they can’t just come up with 1,000 new lodgings, just like that, but are we supposed to believe anyone is really trying?”What I saw from that boat, and what I read from that homeless man could have come from right here in my own country, in my own city.Our differences pale in comparison to our commonalities. Not only common problems but a common need for hope, for equity, for justice, for hospitality.
“I was hungry and you gave me food.I was thirsty and you gave me to drink.I was a stranger and you welcomed me.I was naked and you clothed me.I was sick and you cared for me.I was in prison and you visited me.”So said the Rabbi from Nazareth to his disciples.But they did not understand.“When did we see you needy and do these things?” they asked.And he replied, “Just as you did it for one of the least among my sisters and brothers you did it for me.”Matthew 25:31-40
The table fellowship that this radical Rabbi practiced was radically inclusive.Everyone was welcome:Greeks and Jews, the poor and the rich, sinners and sages, women and men, the enslaved and the free.Might our table welcome republicans, democrats and independents?How about PhD’s and GED’s?Are we willing to welcome the Hummer and the Prius owner?The white collar, blue collar, homeless with no collar at all?Is there a place at our table for the stranger?
Radical Hospitality - the term originates from the book Radical Hospitality: Benedict’s Way of Love, by Father Daniel Homan and Lonni Gollins Pratt. They write:
“When we speak of hospitality we are always addressing issues of inclusion and exclusion. Each of us makes choices about who will and who will not be included in our lives…. Hospitality has an inescapable moral dimension to it…. All of our talk about hospitable openness doesn’t mean anything as long as some people continue to be tossed aside…. But calling hospitality a moral issue does not tell us the whole truth about hospitality either. A moral issue can become bogged down in legalisms, and hospitality is no legalistic ethical issue. It is instead a spiritual practice, a way of becoming more human, a way of understanding yourself. Hospitality is both the answer to modern alienation and injustice and a path to a deeper spirituality.”
Radical hospitality is not a simple spiritual practice.It doesn’t come naturally for most of us.Some of us need to be challenged and supported to connect with those we appear to be, or think we are, so different from; perhaps those of whom we are afraid and those of whom we are uncomfortable with. This is not easy. This is risky. To be a religious home of truly powerful personal transformation, we must risk our comfort some times – maybe more than just some times - by meeting those who are different and by listening well and intentionally to who they truly are.
This means leaving our assumptions at the door.Not assuming we know who someone is by what they drive or how they look.Not assuming we know what their political party may be, what they think, to whom or if they pray.Not even assuming we understand what someone is saying, without taking the time to truly listen and learn.
I’m reminded of a true story from a Presbyterian minister Mom.Her young daughter was watching television in the family room while she sorted mail on the dining room table. She heard her yell, “I want Jesus. Jesus!!!! I waaant Jesus.” Knowing immediately that her daughter must need some sort of spiritual help (and who better to give it to her than her spiritual-leader mother), she ran to the back room and said, “I’m here honey.Now what do you mean you want Jesus?” Her daughter looked at her with the wrinkled brow and rolled eyes of a teenager and yelled, “Cheez-Its! I said, ‘Cheez-Its.’ I waaant Cheez-Its.” Leave your assumptions at the door!
As hosts we have the same responsibility to find commonalities - commonalities with the stranger.As hosts we also have a responsibility to welcome the stranger as our guest.
During my second year of seminary my family and I were asked to participate in an experiment being conducted at a UU congregation.While it was being facilitated by the ministerial intern, a colleague of mine, it was not a secret experiment.The congregation, ministers, and staff all knew about it.It was called “Mystery Visitors”.My husband, son, and I were called upon to attend one of the worship services offered during a particular month and ‘play’ visitor – not revealing our relationship with the seminary student we knew or that we were part of the experiment.After the experience we were to complete a questionnaire.We were greeted as we entered the church, but only by one person, the official keeper of the guest book.I caught a brief smile from two other members the entire time we were there (I was keeping track).No one said one word to us.No one offered our son an opportunity meet other children or attend the RE class that was taking place.
We noticed right away that the order of service was very different from ‘our church’ and was actually a little hard to follow.We didn’t like that and basically made up our minds right then and there that this was not going to be a pleasant experience.
The sermon was very good and the music was lovely.There was no greeting time in the service and after the service no one spoke to us or extended themselves in any way.We didn’t wait around.But we couldn’t find the exit.People did not exit from the same door they had entered.I think it’s because they were all going to coffee hour somewhere.We could not have felt more like strangers.We got out of there as quickly as we could and offered “good-byes” to no one.The three of us nursed our wounds over breakfast at a nearby café.
I was anxious to let my colleague know just how awful the experience was, how terribly the congregation had failed, and I did.But as I’ve thought about that experience since, I’ve come to understand that in reality, we all failed.It’s not a debate of which came first, the stranger or the host.Hospitality is a two-way street.Radical hospitality is a spiritual practice that requires the practitioner to accept responsibility on both sides of that street – as host and as stranger.
You see, throughout our lives we all have opportunities to play the roles of stranger and host in various settings and circumstances.We find ourselves in foreign lands, both literally and figuratively, that excite us, intrigue us, confuse us, and even frighten us.I read a quote that sums up my experience in the role of stranger in a foreign land.James Baldwin:“I met a lot of people in Europe.I even encountered myself.”
Can we recognize ourselves in the face of the stranger?Are we willing to recognize ourselves in the face of our host?It is a responsibility we are called to accept as we build the Beloved Community together.This is where paradise can be found – where heaven is – not somewhere beyond our comprehension and beyond our grasp, but here, right here and now, within the ever-widening circles of relationship, compassion, and the spiritual practice of radical hospitality.
After years spent studying about it but finding no spiritual peace, a rabbi went back to his teacher asking, “Master, where is our paradise?”The old man lifted his arms, gesturing to the world, and said, “This.”The rabbi looked puzzled, so the old man took his hand and pressed it to his weathered cheek, saying, “This.”Still the younger rabbi did not comprehend.So the old man sat him down and shared with him a crust of bread and a glass of water, saying, “This.”Then he finally understood.
Are you willing to challenge your own comfort zone?As a progressive religious community – as people of faith – are we willing to take the risk and leave our assumptions at the door – the doors here at Summit each Sunday, the doors you travel in and out of every day at work, at home, in the wider community?Uncover the commonalities and appreciate the differences.Let us take the time to find out who the stranger truly is.We may just encounter paradise and encounter ourselves.
