Part V of XI in the sermon series "What Happened to the Church After Jesus: The Untold Story."
Preached on October 11, 2009 at First Congregational Church of Tallmadge, UCC.
When we look at the Christians in the first centuries after the life of Jesus, we see that hospitality was a core practice of the early church. Hospitality is a word that needs some refreshing, because when we think of hospitality today, we might think of the hospitality industry. The service of providing food, lodging, and care has become a commercial industry, given to those who can pay for it. Or we might think of hospitality suites, where people are wined and dined to facilitate business deals, secure clients, and form partnership. But hospitality in the early church meant providing food, clothing, shelter, and care to others with no desire for payment. They remembered the words of Jesus, who advised throwing a banquet not for people who would return the favor, but for those who had no hope of inviting you to a banquet at their home, if they even had a home. That is the religious practice of hospitality.
In the second century, during the years 165 to 180, an epidemic called the plague of Galen claimed the lives of hundreds of thousands. While most healthy people fled from the cities where the plague advanced, Christians stayed behind. They followed the example of Christ by putting a priority on compassion, even under the threat of death. Because Christians were often persecuted in the Roman Empire during those first three centuries, many Christian martyrs had already shown that they valued their faith with their very lives, and did not fear death, for they trusted in the resurrection of Christ. In the same way, Christians were the ones who risked their lives among patients of the plague to provide them comfort from pain, regardless of their religion, class, or status as a slave or free citizen. Hospitality for the early church was not white tablecloths and crystal. It was meeting basic humans needs and sharing gladly their meals and homes with all levels of society.
Hospitality is the answer to the historical question of how a religion could grow so dramatically within a society that persecuted it and forced it to operate so often quietly in people’s homes and secret meeting places. The sociologist Rodney Stark wrote that Christianity spread because it “prompted and sustained attractive, liberating, and effective social relations and organizations.” Or, as translated by Diana Butler Bass, early Christians did “risky, compelling, and good things that helped people.”
This is a story that has continued throughout Christian history. In this congregation, we practice hospitality to those who cannot repay through the missions of shelters, soup kitchens, and food banks. In this building, we seek to practice the hospitality of welcome, of worship and ministries that are open and inclusive, accessible and inviting. And when we go forth from this building we seek to bring hospitality through the interfaith hospitality network, mission tours, and the many places where you give your time, talents, and dollars to others because of the spirit of Christ within you.
In the early church, hospitality was held as the primary virtue. At a time when Christians were bearing witness to their faith even in the face of death, their devotion was to a way of life that offered a radical alternative to the way of the world around them. People converted to Christianity in droves not because of the inspiring witness of the martyrs, but because of the church’s hospitality. How can you stamp out a religion by force and violence when it is growing by generosity and graciousness?
Then everything changed for the Christian church. The emperor Constantine converted to Christianity and made it the official religion of the Roman Empire in the year 313. He rebuilt the city of Byzantium and renamed it for himself: Constantinople. Today it is known as Istanbul, in modern Turkey. There he built the Hagia Sophia, the “Church of Holy Wisdom,” which was and still is one of the most beautiful and ornate churches in the world. In a very short time, Christians found themselves moving from meeting in secret to worshiping in the most magnificent buildings of the cities. They changed from being an alternative minority within the empire, one that did not serve in the military service or in any way acknowledge the authority of the emperor, to being the religion of the empire and a requirement of all who served in the military.
Christians found themselves the beneficiaries of the empire’s wealth and influence, and, in some ways, the church has never recovered. In the parts of the world where Christians have held political and material power, the kingdoms and nations of Europe and our own nation, we have a long tradition of altering the Christian message so as to protect the interests of the rich and powerful. It’s that old maxim: power corrupts. This corruption is one part of our Christian history. But there is also another story, the often untold story that we are seeking to tell in this sermon series.
Let me give you one example. In the year 397, the bishop of Constantinople died, and a priest from the city of Antioch was called to succeed him. His name was John, and he was called John Chrysostom, which means “golden-mouthed” in honor for his great gift as a preacher.
John Chrysostom came to be Bishop of Constantinople eighty-five years after the conversion of the empire, and he preached a message of returning to the way of life among Christians before they had the power and wealth of the empire. He preached a sermon on the passage from Acts that we heard today, which told how the earliest Christians did not hold possessions and wealth privately, but shared them among the community. John preached a return to this practice, saying that “if this were done now, we should live more pleasant lives, both the rich and the poor. What abundance there should be!” John Chrysostom envisioned the Christian church using its newfound influence to change the distribution of wealth among the people, easing the difference between rich and poor, as they had done in the early years, when the church attracted so many people by its hospitality.
John Chrysostom saw the church beginning to grow complacent in its new condition of power. He preached to his city that “it is not for lack of miracles that the church is stagnant; it is because we have forsaken the angelic life of Pentecost, and fallen back on private property.” The life of Pentecost is the way of living described in the book of Acts, when they shared all things in common.
It seems to me that we are very much like the post-Constantine church in this country. Unlike the early centuries of the church, when they had no say or power over the governance of the empire, Christians in America have a say and a vote about how to shape the society we live in. I do not believe that we should put the church in charge of government, because that has been a disaster ever since the year 313. But I do believe that our faith calls us to see the world through the lens of hospitality, and our faith reminds us that our resources are to be shared with others as they have need. We do this on a small scale, individually and as a congregation through our budget, our programs, and our ministries, much like the pre-Constantine church. But when we also have influence over our governance, we can work to share hospitality on a large-scale level in our society, by making our will known, by electing those who will help to direct our nation’s wealth to everyone.
The church in America has a history of promoting hospitality at the comprehensive national level. It was Christians who promoted public education and public libraries as a benefit to all people, regardless of class or race or ability to pay. Christians led the movement to abolish slavery for decades before the President signed the Emancipation Proclamation, and later, Christians led the cause to end segregation and secure real civil rights for all races. Christians have been advocates for social safety nets to keep our elders out of poverty by the creation of social security when the Great Depression wiped out the savings of those who had worked and saved their whole lives, and for our society’s commitment to provide health care for our elders, veterans, and the poorest among us. Now we find ourselves in the midst of decisions about extending health care benefits to a much greater number of the vulnerable members of our society, with the costs to be shared by society as a whole, and especially by the wealthiest among us. I believed that my faith calls me to support this effort, and I see in it a reflection of the Christians in the book of Acts, and the 2nd century Christians who provided care during the plague of Galen.
Hospitality was at the heart of the early church when it existed tenuously within the hostile Roman Empire. And then when emperor Constantine empowered Christianity as the religion of the realm, Christians faced a great opportunity as well as a great temptation. Some gave into the temptation and twisted theology to justify their power and status over others; but there were also many who found their new influence and resources to be an opportunity to bring more hospitality to more people, to create equality of care among all people. This is our legacy, and this is our vision.
