Soul Friending and ‘The Main Meal'

Sermon by Rev. Gusti Linnea Newquist
April 7, 2013—Second Sunday of Easter
Psalm 150; Luke 10:38-42 

“Bienvenido, Jesus!” you can almost hear Martha shouting, as this beloved child of God makes his way into her parlor. As her treasured guest. As her Teacher. And her friend.

She is deeply humbled to have him grace the halls of her house, and so, “Welcome Home!” she shouts with joy.

And the Prelude begins. And the angel choir sings the introit. And the bells chime. And Jesus can finally, for once along this long hard road to Jerusalem, take a deep breath, in this moment of rest.

Except Martha cannot wait for the music to end to make sure he is feeling right at home!

And so she cuts in as soon as she hears a pause in the refrain:

Can I take your coat, Jesus? Wash your feet, Jesus? Offer you an ice cold coke, Jesus? Sit you down in this comfy la-z-boy, turn on the telly, crank up the internet before I rush off to the kitchen to whip up your favorite meal, Jesus?

Jesus . . ?

Jesus . . ?

Who is instead, of course, in deep conversation with her sister, Mary. About what it has been like to walk without permanent shelter these past many months. About relying completely and utterly on the kindness of strangers. Finding a warm welcome some places. And shaking the dust off your feet in others.

And maybe he is telling her what he has learned in his preaching of the sermon on the mount. Or how he came up with the parable of the Good Samaritan at just the right moment when the religious scholar was trying to trick him. Or about this form of prayer he is working on to teach his disciples, and how he wants to get it just right.

Or how they never seem to understand what he has been trying to teach them, no matter how many different ways he tries to explain it . . . 

And Mary listens intently. And laughs. And sighs. And maybe even offers some insight into human behavior that could help him on the rest of the journey to Jerusalem . . .

But Martha interrupts in frustration, “Will you hurry up already, Mary!” and “Tell her to help me welcome you home!” Jesus . . . 

And her hospitality collapses into hubris. And Jesus may very well think he would do better to just pack up his things right then and there and go back to walking that lonesome valley by himself.

Oh, Martha. Dear Martha.

We know her so well because she is us, getting so caught up in the details of the welcome home that we miss the reason for the welcome in the first place. Which is simply to listen to one another. And to wonder with one another. And to come to truly know one another. And ourselves in one another. In the breaking of the bread. Like Mary does with Jesus. And like Jesus does with Mary.

I do it too.

Even just last week, on that glorious Easter Sunday we celebrated with great joy and jubilation, yours truly found herself rushing, rushing, rushing into the park across the street. In the wee hours of the morning. Scrambling to set up for our “Almost Sunrise Service.” And getting so caught up in all my worrying about whether or not we were really ready for the resurrection that the man who had been sitting right there on the bench, for many hours already, who really did watch the Easter sun rise—the very same man we want to welcome to our table today through our communion in the park—picked up his belongings and walked away, without a whisper or a warning . . .

And I did not even think, until it was way too late, to say even the simple words: “welcome home.”

It’s a good thing Jesus gives us a second chance isn’t it? It’s a good thing the table isn’t really ours at all. But his. And that we are following him to a park where he has been all along. Waiting for us to join him. With listening instead of worry. To learn all over again what the main meal is really for. Which is “soul friending.” And “spiritual companioning.” Along whatever journey we find ourselves on. With whomever we chance to meet along the way . . .

It is this concept of Soul Friending and Spiritual Companioning—of listening and paying attention—that the Rev. Ann Helmke, Director of Spiritual Services at Haven for Hope, shared with our adult education class this morning. About how we at Madison Square might continue to cultivate a ministry of hospitality among those of us in our neighborhood who live with permanent shelter and those of us who do not, or at least not yet . . .

They are simple concepts, to be honest. Ones that don’t seem on the surface to be a whole lot of “work.” At least if we are living in the frenzy of our “Martha ministry.”

Soul Friending is really just about listening. And paying attention. And offering our simple presence to one another. And possibly a prayer. And perhaps even a conversation. Without moving with undue haste, as the poet Oriah Mountain Dreamer cautions, “to hide or fade or fix” the pain, or envy the joy, or judge the journey . . .

And yet, as Martha learns, Soul Friending is so difficult to practice because we end up working so hard to manufacture the welcome that we often miss the opportunity to simply receive it when it comes of its own accord.

In these past few months, with our first communion in the park in December and our “ambassadors in the park” in the weeks before and after the sacrament, we have been somewhat intermittently, somewhat inadequately, but with renewed intentionality, soaking up the “Mary” wisdom of Soul Friending and Spiritual Companioning. By heading out to the park with a cup of coffee and a desire for a conversation and a willingness to be transfixed and transformed by the stories we heard.

And it is time to try again. And to see what the Spirit will do with us this time around. And maybe find out what the Spirit did last time around without us even knowing it . . .

Because the thing about Martha’s muttering in the face of her very welcome guest is that she makes the mistake of thinking she is welcoming Jesus to her table, when in fact he is welcoming her to his. And the thing Mary gets that the rest of us can remember is that the table of Christ has already been spread, in the “main meal” we are already sharing with Christ’s guests.

And the wisdom of Soul Friending and Spiritual Companioning among us today is that it will be someone we think we are rushing to serve, either in the park or in this sanctuary, who welcomes us home. To his bench. To sit at her feet. And hear his story. Just like Mary did with Jesus.

It is the whole point of “communion” in the first place, this main meal that we share. With the risen Christ as our host. In the conviction that we cannot know him without knowing our neighbor.

And so we keep on trying. Whether we are a Martha or a Mary. With the grace of our soul friending and spiritual companioning God poured out in a rich feast. And the hope of a heavenly banquet where all are fed, and all are heard, and all are loved, beckoning us ever onward . . .

And welcoming us home . . . without interruption!

I pray it may be so . . .

Amen.