Vicar Karla
Sermon- Jul 6, 2025
Back in January of this past year, I was very fortunate to go on a travel course to Guatemala and Mexico through Luther Seminary. The purpose of the course was to engage with the Lutheran Churches in both Guatemala and Mexico and to gain a more comprehensive understanding of the role that the global Lutheran Church plays in both of those countries and in the region.
A key component of our time in Guatemala was to be spent in remote villages which are largely inhabited by indigenous communities and these are the places where the Lutheran Church in Guatemala is most connected. These populations are a fascinating and beautiful conglomeration of people including those who left Guatemala during the 36 year long civil war to go to refugee camps on the Mexico/ Guatemala border, as well as people who fought for the government and those who fought against it as guerilla militants. While we were in these villages, we even met key guerilla leaders who were instrumental in brokering peace deals to end the war.
Now that this brutal and lengthy civil war has finally come to an end, they all must now continue learning how to live together in a spirit of reconciliation and hope. And, it is the Lutheran Church in Guatemala that is most closely accompanying these communities into what is next. These villages, by our standards, would be considered to be pretty primitive. We were very well briefed by our church partners to help us anticipate some key components of our experience. For example, the only electricity came from generators and there was no running water. Now, I happen to love a good cold bucket shower, especially in the heat we were experiencing, but it was certainly an adjustment.
The roads to get to these villages were the definition of backroad with innumerable bumps and jostling with me needing to take multiple rounds of dramamine since an unfortunate aspect of my aging has been developing motion sickness. You really get the feeling that you are going far behind what we would consider to be modern civilization. The night before we were to arrive at our first village destination, my roommate for the evening and I were in our hotel room, repacking our bags because we wanted to be able to leave our suitcases on the bus and only bring in our backpacks. This was admittedly a bit of a tall order as we all had to bring in our own sleeping mats, sleeping bags, and mosquito nets. As we were unpacking and repacking, I felt myself stop as a realization hit me like a ton of bricks. We were repacking our bags and bringing with us more for just a few days than people who are fleeing their homes and taking long arduous journeys could even comprehend bringing with them. Even though I was impressed with myself for packing lightly- a small carry-on sized suitcase and a backpack for 3 weeks including the aforementioned sleeping gear- I still had so much stuff. As I looked at my things, I found myself thinking, how much of this do I actually need?
We arrived and were welcomed by children shooting off firecrackers and jumping up and down to wave us in. We walked into a very modest room with a few benches and uneven tables where a lone candle was burning as the women of the congregation finished preparing lunch. It was evident that this burning candle was for a special occasion, and we were the special occasion.
The truth is, I have never experienced such radical and beautiful hospitality as I did in these remote, modest villages. Where these families maybe only ate chicken once a month or for a very special occasion, such as a wedding, they had prepared chicken for us, forfeiting significant income which could be generated by selling them. In the evening, the lights went off with the generator promptly at 9pm…. Or so we were told. But when they saw that a few of us were still up after 9 writing and chatting, they kept the generator on for us.
As I read today’s gospel passage, I am struck by the ways that the disciples are about to set out on their pilgrimage and that they are to be dependent on the hospitality of others. I talk at length, from this very pulpit, about our profound and urgent calling to share hospitality with the stranger as we are mandated to do literally dozens of times throughout the bible. And, as this passage exhibits, we are also called to accept that hospitality is when it is offered to us. I don’t know about you, but I sometimes struggle accepting help, let alone asking for it in the first place. The beautiful thing about being people of faith and in Christian community together is the ways that we care for one another. That sometimes it is up to us to share care and hospitality, and sometimes it is incumbent on us to accept it.
When we went to these villages, it was not up to us to fix anything, to solve any problems, to give money or items. It was our job to accompany and to learn from them and to receive the hospitality which was shared so abundantly with us. And, we profoundly felt God’s presence in this accepting of their hospitality. In receiving the giving and sharing of these gifts, God comes to this human community. God is present in our accepting the hospitality and care which is offered to us.
Jesus’ disciples in today’s story are dependent on the mercy of hospitality of those they would encounter as they set out on their commission from Christ to share God’s love and peace. They were vulnerable. Not only is Jesus telling them to take nothing, but he is telling them that he is sending them out to be lambs amongst wolves, reminding us that this is dangerous. Bodly sharing God’s messages of love and justice is not easy, nor is it without risks. There is vulnerability in that risk and in being humble enough to receive what is offered to us.
Being in Christian community together means to both give and to receive. That when we have the resources to help our neighbors we do, even when the resources may feel modest or even inadequate. And, it also means to be willing to ask for and accept help from others in the community. Because we do not have to do this alone. In a world, more specifically maybe even in an American context where individual freedom and self sufficiency is prized, God offers something else, a way of Christ coming near to us amidst that rugged individualism that can feel so isolating.
This week, I invite you to look for the places where you can offer care to those who may need it. Where can you linger over coffee and conversation rather than running off to the next thing on your busy schedule? And, where can you receive care from others? Where are places where you can be brave enough to ask for help? In a world that pushes us to only worry about ourselves, let us be brave enough to discern where we can rely on the hospitality and mercy of others.