Matthew 10.40-42: About Hotels and Hospitals

Whoever welcomes you welcomes me...[And] whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple -- truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward. Those are the words of the Gospel reading for Proper 8 (13)/Pentecost 4A (Matthew 10:40-42). Welcome and even a cup of cold water are as much issues today as they were the day Jesus said the words. How should we care for one another and respond to one another's needs? History gives us an answer (and perhaps a challenge) in the hotel-Dieu, which literally means hostel of God and was a generic name for hospitals in French-speaking regions.

Yes, hospitals. Think of today's conversations about health care, hospitals and costs. Do those conversations make you think of hostels? Of hospitality? Clearly hospital and hospitality share a root. That root is in the word host, which is itself rooted in the Proto-Indo-European ghos-ti (stranger, guest, host...a person with whom you had reciprocal requirements for hospitality). This relationship moves through the words hostel to the Old French hospital (shelter for the needy), the Latin hospitale (guest house, inn) on to hospitality. It isn't exactly what we think of today when we think of hospitals. 

In medieval Europe the idea of the hotel-Dieu took on the meaning of a charitable institution that cared for the needy, both in terms of daily food and a place to stay along with health care. Hotels-Dieu were built and sustained in many places, though the quality of care no doubt differed from place to place. 

In 1443, Europe was just coming out of the Hundred Years War in which plague and deprivation were the order of the day. In Beaune, a city in the Burgundy region of France, Nicolas Rolin, Chancellor of Duke Phillip the Good, established a hotel-Dieu that remains one of the most beautiful buildings in France. A combination homeless shelter, soup kitchen and health clinic, the physical plant of the Hospices de Beaune included two buildings around a courtyard. One of the most distinctive elements of the complex is the multi-colored roof. 

Hotel-Dieu, Beaune, France. c. 1450. For additional information, see:

https://www.beaune-tourism.com/discover/hospices-de-beaune

The large room with a boat-inspired roof is called the Room of the Poor(s). The furniture in the photo below was added in the last quarter of the 19th century. In medieval times, the beds would not have had the wooden compartments. Plain beds would have lined the walls of the room. The complex includes large kitchens and a pharmacy, all of which were established to meet the needs of the hotel's clients. In addition to the hospital, Rolin also established a religious order of sisters who staffed the facility.

Nicolas Rolin created the Beaune hotel-Dieu with an eye toward the finest architecture and art. Masterpieces by Rogier van der Weyden hung on the walls. Sculpted beams and hand-crafted floor tiles adorned the Room of the Poor. At the end of the Room of the Poor was the chapel so that infirm patients could attend mass from their beds.

Few of us would be happy to exchange 21st-century medical care for 15th-century care. Or 21st-century hygiene for that of the 15th century. However, the name and purpose of this and other hotels-Dieu might be aspirational for us as we consider issues of welcome and care of all God's people.

Matthew 10.29-31: The Birds

Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. And even the hairs of your head are all counted. So do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows.  

(Matthew 10:29-31, Proper 7A)

Jesus has seen these birds (or some like them) before, and he will see them again. Not just see them but mention them in words and deeds that have been recorded for us. Here, the reference to the sparrows compares the worth and value of humans relative to the birds. 

The earlier Gospel reference is when Mary and Joseph take the infant Jesus to the temple for the rites of purification for Mary. In accordance with the specifications of Leviticus: When the days of her purification are completed, whether for a son or for a daughter, she shall bring to the priest at the entrance of the tent of meeting a lamb in its first year for a burnt-offering, and a pigeon or a turtle-dove for a sin-offering...If she cannot afford a sheep, she shall take two turtle-doves or two pigeons, one for a burnt-offering and the other for a sin-offering; and the priest shall make atonement on her behalf, and she shall be clean. Unable to afford the lamb, Mary and Joseph bring the doves: ...and they offered a sacrifice according to what is stated in the law of the Lord, ‘a pair of turtle-doves or two young pigeons. (Luke 2:24)

In many images of the Presentation in the Temple, Joseph will be holding a cage or basket with the two birds. In the Byzantine manuscript illumination below, the doves are being carried in Joseph's hands, wrapped somewhat in his garment. Their eyes are focused toward the infant Jesus who is in his mother's arms. 

Presentation in the Temple. Menologion of Basil II. 879-11th century. 

Rome, Italy: Vatican Museums. See: http://digi.vatlib.it/view/MSS_Vat.gr.1613/

The thirdGospel reference to the sacrificial birds is implied more than explicit. At the end of his ministry, Jesus cleanses or purifies the temple, seeking to drive out all the commercial endeavors that have taken up residence in the temple: exchanging money, selling/purchasing animals for sacrifice, etc. There would have been vendors selling birds as part of the temple commerce. This is probably how Joseph and Mary acquired the doves for their own sacrifice. Some of the paintings show animals scattering before Jesus' whip of cords. Some will show the bird sellers as well. 

The painting below, by Raymond Balze, includes the bird details, but seems more of a still life than a dramatic moment of violence. Christ stands like a statue at the center of the composition, gesturing the merchants away from the place where they have set up shop. The work is rich in detail, if short on action. Perhaps it was meant to demonstrate the artist's composition skills rather than illustrate the scriptural text. One bird has "flown the coop" in the hubbub of Jesus' actions.

 Raymond Balze. Purification of the Temple. 1850. 

This theme rises to the surface at the beginning of Jesus' life, at the end of his earthly ministry and as part of his teaching. Why do you think that is? What is it about these seemingly insignificant, two-for-a-penny birds that makes them appear not once, not twice but three times?

Genesis 18, 21: Unexpected Visitors

Abraham's three visitors were unexpected. They just showed up there at the camp under the oaks of Mamre. Abraham was sitting in the door of his tent in the heat of the day. So he offered food and hospitality to these unexpected visitors who turned out to be way more and promise way more than he originally thought they might (Genesis 18:1-15, 21:1-7, Pr 6/Ord 11/Pentecost 2, Year A).

The unexpected visitors - and the unexpected news they brought - are not so unexpected to us today. We have read the story. How, then, can we give ourselves the experience of seeing these visitors in a new light - as Abraham saw them by the end of the text. Two options are below.

In the painted Biblical scenes and stories of artist Fr. John B. Giuliani we see indigenous peoples: the people of Guatemala and Bolivia, Apache and Crow, Navajo and Choctaw. In Giuliani's The Tent at Mamre, three chiefs - Lakota, Cheyenne and Apache - are the unexpected visitors hosted by Sarah and Abraham. Abraham and Sarah are not included in the scene, but their tent (a Blackfeet buffalo tipi) provides the background for the scene. Does Giuliani's version of the story make you ask different questions? Or help you understand Abraham's surprise at these visitors who just seemed to appear?

A second "unexpected" depiction of the story is that by Giovanni Battista Tiepolo. The part of the reading from Genesis 21 includes Sarah's overhearing the visitors' assertion that she and Abraham will be parents, even at their advanced age. In response to this announcement, Sarah laughs. (Remember, it is that laughter that will give Isaac his name.) Sarah's laughter is overheard, and one of the visitors confronts her.

Tiepolo has chosen that moment, and, at least for me, the appearance (and by that I mean the way the visitor looks, not that the visitor appeared) of this angel is unexpected, to say the least. From the wings that are almost as tall as the angel, to the medallion-patterned gathered and draped garment (not to mention the thigh-high slit) and the gold sandals, this angel is quite unexpected. Sarah is dressed in 17th-century fashion with her standing lace collar, which feels anachronistic in its own way. But it is the angel who steals the sartorial show. He stands outside the "tent" in the light while Sarah kneels in the shadows, her dark clothes blending into the dark wall behind her.

Abraham was sitting in the door of his tent in the heat of the day when he looked up and saw three visitors. What do unexpected visitors bring to us? What hospitality do we offer them?

Top photo: John B. Giuliani. The Tent at Mamre. To purchase cards and reproductions of this and other work: http://www.bridgebuilding.com/narr/gabr.html
Bottom photo: Giovanni Battista Tiepolo. Sarah and the Angel. 1724-29. Fresco. Palazzzo Patriarcale, Udine. http://www.musdioc-tiepolo.it/musdioc/index.php?folder_id=15

Matthew 28.16-20: Go

Some doubted, according to Matthew's gospel (Matthew 28:16-20, Trinity A). In other post-Resurrection situations, Jesus has shown up to reassure, to explain, to breathe on, to answer. Not here. Some doubted, and, yes, Jesus showed up. But what he said was, "I have all authority. Go." There's a little more to it, but the essence seems to be the claiming of authority and almost immediately the instruction to go.

Go into the world. All of it. Make disciples. Teach. Baptize. Go
.
 And when Jesus tells you to go, shouldn't you go?

We lose sight of the disciples (now apostles) and their travels at this point, though legends abound about where the disciples went. Thomas is credited with going to India. Andrew reportedly preached in Russia. Bartholomew took Christianity to Armenia. James, the son of Zebedee, preached in Spain.

They did, indeed, go into all the world according to these traditions, and make disciples in all these places. They might have sailed on boats or ridden a horse or camel, but the majority of their travel would have involved walking.

Their sandals were more utilitarian than the shoes pictured here, but these shoes remind us of the world into which we are called to go. And like those first apostles who heard the word "Go", Jesus is with us always, even to the end of the age.

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