Marty Caldwell
Series: Church Around the Table

Ryan Romeo:

Good morning, Living Streams Church. David is out. He is in his second home, if you know David. He is in Belize right now, a place he loves. We always joke on staff. We feel like we’re one of two kids he has, and Belize is like that second kid. He’s over there, which is awesome. We’re so excited for him. He’s going to be back here next week.

Right now it’s my pleasure to introduce our guest speaker, Marty Caldwell. Marty’s with Young Life. He’s been to over eighty countries. He travels the world talking to young people. If you know anything about Young Life, for us it’s such a big deal. We love Young Life. I was a big part of Young Life growing up. So please join me in warmly welcoming Marty Caldwell.

Marty Caldwell:

Thanks, Ryan. By the way, David was part of the seeds planted that helped us get Young Life started in Belize. And they had their first weekend camp just a few weeks ago. There’s an inner connectivity in all of this.

Good morning. This is the day that the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it. I do want to say this: If you’re going, “I am not thinking that’s going to come out of my mouth, it’s not in my spirit. There’s a sadness, or there’s a loss, or maybe there’s a sickness in me.” — I want you to know, in the kingdom of God and in a family like Living Streams, when you’re on this side, this is the day that the Lord has made, “Let us lament and have peace in it” is equally important.

It’s not a smiley face on the lament. If you read the Bible, there’s a lot of lament in the Bible—sadness and sorrow. And we’re not afraid to enter into that. And we’re not afraid to welcome you into that. If you’re in here and, “This is the day the Lord has made and let me lament,” you get to lament. Because this is part of God creating larger hearts, a more compassionate people. And even the ability to have both of these things: joy, celebration, worship and victory—absolutely. Equally: compassion, gentleness and lament.

We are a people that God is making to have bigger hearts. We can do both of these things at the same time. But usually, it’s a little more one or the other. I just want to say one thing: If you’re here with a spirit of lament: welcome, welcome, welcome. Holy moly. You got out of bed this morning and you went to church in sorrow. That’s courage. That is courage. And I just want to say I’m impressed. Welcome. You don’t have to raise your hand. You just sit with this.

But if you’re here on this side, I mean, same thing. There’s no greater welcome over here or over there. The Lord has made this day and we are gong to rejoice and be glad in it. But we are not afraid to enter into the lament and show compassion to those who are in that spirit today. That’s the reality of the kingdom of God and Living Streams is a place to express that. Welcome into it.

This morning, what I want to do is to talk about the radical hospitality of Jesus. I don’t know. Hospitality is one of those words that needs a better marketing group. Because, for the most part, hospitality is one of those boring, ordinary words. Well, yeah, like some flowers or candles, you know, maybe some cookies, baking, sort of ordinary. By the way, I think actually there are lots of elements of hospitality that are ordinary; but in today’s world, which is so divided, so polarized, so “us/them,” that the radical nature of the hospitality of Jesus, and the radical nature of the hospitality of the body of Christ, is absolutely, stunningly subversive and radical.

So it may have some ordinary actions to it, but it is always a response of our hearts realizing that the God of the universe welcomes us. So if you would, pray with me:

Lord, we’re so glad we get to be here this morning—together. You welcome us. You want us. You love us. You like us. You want to be with us. Well, this is just stunning, because you are God! You made all time, all geography, all universes, and you want to be with us and you welcome us into your presence. Wow! Help us to capture that but also to be captured by that, so that we may express radical hospitality in our own lives and our homes, our places of work, school, restaurants, neighborhood. Because we want to do your work your way as an expression of knowing how much we are loved. We pray in Christ’s name. Amen.

A simple definition of hospitality—I looked it up in the dictionary. I didn’t like it, so I made one up:

Any action or set of actions, or words, or experiences, or touch, or smell, that says to another person or group of people, “I am so glad you are here. Come on in. Let’s be together.”

And really, for this morning, if you’ll allow me, I’m going to use hospitality and belonging and welcome almost interchangeably. I think hospitality is kind of the inner core—the dynamic—but the expression of hospitality is welcome and belonging, belonging and welcome.

The first one, of course, to express that is the God of the universe. He says that to you and me whether we’re broken, whether we’re falling away, whether we’re joyful or lamenting, or absolutely in prodigal country. He says to us, before we behave and before we believe, that we belong. This is the radical nature of the gospel. It is not like any other religion. It’s not like the rules and regulations that we would set up, that we would expect: Well, you have to have the belief test and then the behavior test and then you get to belong because you’ve learned the secret code. You’ve learned the secret belief. You’ve learned the secret behaviors, and then God says, “Ok, now you belong with me.”

Christ most expressly says, “You belong with me.”

“Well, wait a minute. I don’t know the belief system.”

“You belong with me.”

“I certainly don’t behave.”

“You belong with me.”

This is the hospitality of God. If you don’t think that’s radical, just read the newspaper. Actually, just look at your own family. This is not how things work. This is how the gospel works. The gospel is this radical person, Jesus Christ, who expresses to a broken and hurting world, “You belong with the God of the universe.”

Stunning. Really. That God is radically hospitable to us. And if you believe this, if you have this at your core, you are most free then to express radical hospitality to others; which is most simply expressed in the second greatest commandment: Love your neighbor as yourself. Ultimately, hospitality, welcome, belonging are of the same kind. They are “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

This is it. Sounds so ordinary. Sounds so every day. It is. It is ordinary. It is every day. But if you think it’s easy, your life is not like mine. This is hard work. This is costly work. This has to be a practice.

Here’s what Paul says in Romans 12. He’s kind of riffing.

9 Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. 10 Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves.

This is getting harder as we go.

11 Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. 12 Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. 13 Share with the Lord’s people who are in need.

And this just stands out there, screaming at me:

…Practice hospitality.

And this is what I would like to inspire you to. Practice hospitality. I really like the language of that because it’s a little bit better for me than “be hospitable.” Because what if I can’t be hospitable? Well, okay, good. You can’t. But what if you practice? Okay, I could try that. Practice. I’m not good. I have this muscle of hospitality right here. Here we go. Try to lift it. “I can’t lift it.”

“Okay, get something lighter. Practice.”

So this morning, what I’d like to encourage you in, is practice hospitality. Young Life is really kind of a laboratory for this with disinterested, lost teenagers here and around the world. I have a picture of a greeting. This is Tanzania, so this is probably mostly muslim kids. These are kids with no background in Christ. We set up a welcome for them. The little three wheeler coming down, and these are flags of all of these nations, back behind here is a wedding band and about a hundred people that are saying to teenagers that don’t feel welcome in their neighborhood, don’t feel welcome outside of their neighborhood, often not in their own family, maybe nowhere, not in their school, this is a hundred people or so, singing, dancing, screaming, flag-waving, “We are glad you are here!” It’s beautiful chaos. This would be like any Young Life camp anywhere around the world. This just happens to be Tanzania.

A really iconic moment for me of hospitality, and the importance of welcome happened a few years ago, kind of our first camp in Tanzania. All of the kids had come. They’re already here. This is kind of the start and this is the finish. One kid had missed the bus. So he missed out on the greeting.

And I kind of go, “Well, you know, we’ve got to get dinner going. It’s a little bit late. I’ve got to button things up. But just have him come and he’ll walk into dinner and somebody give him a high five and it’ll be great.”

The Africans go, “Oh, no, no. We do the same greeting.”

I go, “Wait a minute. For the one kid?”

“Yeah.”

So he gets on the bus by himself. We’ve got to all wait out there for about thirty minutes. He comes down that road. It’s hilarious. It is a bus driver and one kid. But by that time, all the kids that had been welcomed had joined us. So now it’s about 350 people and they have set up a gauntlet for him. And he is being greeted like he is a rock and roll star. High five and he’s disoriented. I think what he had felt was the shame of missing the bus, the “maybe I shouldn’t have come,” the “maybe I don’t belong.” And he is overwhelmed.

And what’s interesting to me is, not just the believers who had done the first welcome, but now everyone’s in on the welcome. There is something fundamental that God has wired to us in Genesis 1 and 2, that is to be welcoming. And then there is something fundamentally broken from Genesis 3 on that says, “Play small, play safe, guard, don’t share, be in the background, be with people like you.”

There’s you know, 150 muslim kids and then 50 atheist kids and 50 nominal Christian kids. And they’re all welcoming this one kid. No duh. Did that kid meet Christ? Okay. Yeah. Absolutely. He met Christ. He hears the gospel. He’s experienced the gospel because he’s had a whole world welcome. “You belong. You belong. You belong.”

“Well, wait a minute! I’m late. I missed the bus. I probably shouldn’t be here.”

And this expression—and believe me, this is loud as any proclamation could be—it’s as fine-tuned and powerful as any sermon could ever be. So when you think about the radical hospitality of God, the radical hospitality of, “You belong with me,” also think about your own chance to express that gospel message to others who feel like they don’t belong. To say to them, with your words, with your actions, “You belong. You are welcome. We are so glad you are here.”

Luke 15:

15 Now the tax collectors and sinners were all gathering around to hear Jesus. 2 But the Pharisees and the teachers of the law muttered, “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.”

Which of course, in the Middle East a couple thousand years ago, and still today, if you come into someone’s home and you share a meal, often hospitality has to do with food. Good. Something fundamental going on here together. Always has to do with conversation. Also has to do with eye contact, learning names, to say with our body, with our words, with our actions, with our very spirit, “I am so glad you are here.”

And really, when you think about that, I think this is generally true with Living Streams, as David and I talked about this a few months ago, the idea of radical hospitality and that being one of the dynamics of Living Streams, we really did think we’re going to hire a high school band for the parking lot. And then we’re going to get a bunch of people to come in early to create a gauntlet so that everyone coming in got a high five, or a hug, or a “We’re glad you’re here.”

We were defeated by the logistics, but the heart and the idea were good. But just imagine you coming in this morning and there is a band in the parking lot, and they’re wailing out some John Philip Souza tune, and they’re kind of marching, and you’re all, “What’s going on?”

And then somebody says, “Oh! They’re here for you.”

“Huh?”

“Well, yeah. That’s the welcome band. They’re here playing so that you know how welcome you are.”

“Wow.”

Then you walk into the foyer and bunch of people are high-fiving. They’re here for you. This is the kind of place this campus desires to be.

But here’s the cool thing. What if we brought the marching band to your neighborhood, or your house, or your back yard. And really, the marching band is probably some great barbecue, probably some great drinks, probably some fun and games in the back yard. And you’ve got some neighbors coming over and they feel this welcome. They are treated with “We are glad you are here. You belong.”

“You’re one of those weird-o religious people.”

No response needed. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

Okay, did they make the direct connection of, “Oh, I bet God’s glad I’m here”? Of course not. But hospitality is an experience of the good news that we belong with God in relationship. It’s an experience. It’s the beginning of what I call the non-verbal proclamation of the gospel.

Think about your own life. There were things that happened around it that told you you belong, that brought you in. You just didn’t know what they were. What you said was, “I want what they have.” Because hospitable people create a curiosity—especially in today’s divided world. This is a very subversive activity.

Luke 19:

19 Jesus entered Jericho and was passing through. 2 A man was there by the name of Zacchaeus; he was a chief tax collector and was wealthy. 3 He wanted to see who Jesus was, but because he was short he could not see over the crowd.

Think about this. We’ve got Zacchaeus. He’s a turncoat, he’s a tax collector, he’s stealing from people, he’s a liar and a cheat, he may live in a big, empty house on a hill and—ha ha!—he’s also short. And I think what you must imagine is a powerful, wealthy, but isolated, alone individual. And he wants to see what sort of person Jesus was. He didn’t really want to meet him. He doesn’t want to go hear a lesson, he wants to see what sort of person he is.

4 So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore-fig tree to see him, since Jesus was coming that way.
5 When Jesus reached the spot, he looked up and said to him, “Zacchaeus, come down immediately.

I mean, Zacchaeus knows his internal life. He knows what he’s done. He’s going to spiritual prison and here’s the religious guy, the country rabbi that’s calling him out. He didn’t have that in mind. He climbed the tree because he wanted to see what sort of person Jesus was. Not to meet him. Not to talk to him. Not to get a lesson from him. But just to see him. Kind of a curious guy. Remarkable to me. Jesus knows his name.

By the way—become good at names. Know the names of your neighbors, the names of the people you sit next to in school. Go to one Starbucks. Learn people’s names. Go to one grocery store. Learn people’s names. Got to go shopping with my wife sometimes to get one gallon of milk. It’ll take an hour because she’s got to talk to everybody in Safeway. The guy that cuts the meat, the guy stocking the shelves, she knows all of the people that are checking the groceries. She walks in. They stop her. “Susan! How’s your mom?”

I’m going, “Give me the milk. Let me out of here.”

She’s one of my teachers in hospitality, welcoming and belonging. But just think about how crazy that is. It’s a subversive act. Go into the Safeway and learn people’s names and honor them for their work and ask them questions about their life. I promise. Experiment. Practice on this. Just try this for a couple of weeks. Same grocery store. Learn people’s names. Validate their work. Ask them questions about their life.

It’ll be a little weird at first. They’ll go, “Oh man. There’s a weird-o here. Better call security.” But they’ll get over that pretty quickly because that’s one human being validating another. And the human being that knows Jesus saying to the other one—regardless of where they are—“You belong. You are loved. You matter. Your work matters. I see you.”

A lot of hospitality is seeing, noticing, watching, sometimes the sad one, sometimes the isolated one, sometimes the one celebrating, but no matter what, an outward expression of the love of Christ is to notice. This means we have to slow down a bit. You know, you’re really not noticing people when you’re doing this (on phone), you’re doing that. It’s not happening. The idea that hospitality is cheap and free is incorrect. It’s actually pretty expensive. It costs time. It costs money. It costs some comfort. There’s a little bit of discomfort related to hospitality. But this is the whole subversion of the kingdom of God. It starts with Christ in the middle.

Matthew 25:

34 “Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world.

This is Jesus speaking.

35 For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in,

I’ll stop there.

Luke 19:

5 …“Zacchaeus, come down immediately. I must stay at your house today.” 6 So he came down at once and welcomed him gladly.
7 All the people saw this and began to mutter, “He has gone to be the guest of a sinner.”

That Jesus. Doesn’t he know? The religious. Powerful. “We have a reputation to guard here and now you’re going with Zacchaeus? He’s the enemy. He’s been trying to destroy our town.”

8 But Zacchaeus stood up and said to the Lord, “Look, Lord! Here and now I give half of my possessions to the poor, and if I have cheated anybody out of anything, I will pay back four times the amount.”

Like, even just being welcomed, your name is used, “Come down, I’ll be with you.” His life goes upside down from everything he’s ever known. I have to think that comes from a vacuum of not belonging. But this belonging and the special nature of Jesus to notice, to “I see you, Zacchaeus,” is the thing that flips his life upside down.

9 Jesus said to him, “Today salvation has come to this house, because this man, too, is a son of Abraham. 10 For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.”

The very purpose of God: seek and save the lost. And this is why broken people are so quick to be sought and to find Jesus. In self-sufficiency, “Everything is going my way,” it’s a heck of a lot harder to find Jesus. You find him most often in desperate moments, in lonely moments, in broken moments, in recognition of, “I don’t have it.” Yeah. You don’t. Me neither.

So what do we do? We’ve got a Savior. Died for our sins and rose to offer us life now, in hope and freedom, enjoying everything good.

Back to Matthew 25:

36 I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’
37 “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? 38 When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? 39 When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’
40 “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’

Wow. So when serving and giving our lives away to those who are lost or broken and lonely, and maybe different from us, maybe we have to enter into a little of our own discomfort to express the love and the knowing and the “I see you” and “you belong” and all of those things, what happens is, Jesus says, “Yeah. You did that to me.”

“But no, I thought I was doing it to them.”

“Yeah, anytime you’re doing it to them that way with your hospitable heart, this is what you’ve done to me.”

The Son of Man came to seek and save the lost.

The practice of hospitality begins in the human heart. We realize that God has been hospitable to us, so 1) we are grateful. If you realize how hospitable, how “You belong, Marty, with all of your stuff,” the natural response is gratitude. We can express that in worship. We can express that in prayer. We can express that in generosity. We can express that in service. But a heart that is grateful is a heart that is true; because it recognizes what God has done and what he has said to us and how he activates that within us.

Then it causes us to begin to practice more hospitality. It frees us up. Hospitality is a subversive and courageous action in a divided culture. Actions, words, memories, smells, even touch. You’ve got to be careful in the climate today. But read the signals. You can tell if someone’s a hugger. Hug them. You can tell if they’re not a hugger. Shake their hand. But just pay attention. See, look. A handshake can be very welcoming to a person that needs a handshake. Maybe you shake the hand in a different way. Maybe you put the other hand on there.

In Ethiopia—this is so cool, so humbling—any older person, a younger person comes and shakes hands and they always put their left hand and they lift it up, because the young person does not want to be a burden on the older person. For once to lift their burden. Is that cool? Like a cultural hospitality. A sign of respect. A sign of eldership. A sign of “I want to be last. I want to be a light to you.” And you see this all over Ethiopia. It’s intentional. It’s thoughtful. We think about what will help them feel welcome most often in the home, but it really can be everywhere, noticing, affirming blessing.

I want to tell you about one of my hospitality heroes, Holman Mendoza. I brought a picture of him. It’s a picture of my job with Young Life. Rapha Allejo, the Director of Young Life in the Dominican Republic, Carlina Poe, Director of Young Life in South America, and Holman Mendoza, Director of Young Life in Nicaragua. If you know anything about the politics in the eighties, the Sandinistas were being fueled by the Russian government; whereas the United States was funding the Samosa government. I’m not going to get into the politics, because there are two stories worth telling on both of those sides.

But Holman was born in the eighties. He was raised as a revolutionary. I’ve seen his textbook. He showed me his second grade math textbook. One AK47 plus two AK47’s is how many AK47’s? This is how he’s learning math. Two hand grenades plus two hand grenades is how many hand grenades? The Sandinistas realized, “If we don’t start raising up revolutionaries, that will want to join our army and kill the enemy, then we’re going to lose this war.”

So Holman was raised to be a Sandinista revolutionary and his weapons were really going to be hand grenades, AK47’s and whatever he could make available to do violence to the enemy—until a guy named Emerson who played basketball, didn’t speak Spanish very well, walked into his neighborhood and said, “Do you want to play basketball?” Holman and his friends started playing basketball again and again and again. His Spanish wasn’t very good and neither was his basketball. But he had one and they didn’t have a basketball and they loved to play. They played everyday until Emerson said, “Holman, I want you to come to this Young Life camp with me.”

Remember, he’s consorting with the enemy. “I’m supposed to hate you. You’re supposed to hate me. But we’re playing basketball together. I’m really not sure about this.” But he just caught him on a whim and he doesn’t have something better to do, to go to this Young Life camp. He meets Jesus. He eventually becomes a volunteer leader, he gets a college degree, eventually goes on the Young Life staff. This is about fifteen years ago.

But he told me a couple of years ago a thing that really flipped me upside down. He goes, “Marty, I was raised to be a revolutionary. My weapons were going to be those of destruction.” But he said, “I’m still a revolutionary at heart. So I have new weapons, because I want to change my nation. I want to change Central America. I want to change North America. I want to be part of God’s changing the world. My new weapons of revolution are love and service and prayer and hospitality. But I want to fight with the same passion. I want to love my enemy. I want to welcome those who feel like they don’t belong into the welcoming arms of the family of God.”

This is the subversive nature of the simple but radical, ordinary hospitality. And really, my admonition to everyone here today: practice. Just do something. “Okay, I’m going to practice that. I’m going to learn a name. I’m going to take a little more time at Starbucks. I’m going to have my neighbors over—my actual, real neighbors, the ones that live next to me. I’m going to invite them over for a barbecue.”

Well, yeah, should you have a Bible study right away? Yeah, I kind of don’t think so. Have a barbecue. Make good barbecue. Find out the beverage of their choice. Serve that beverage. It might not be your beverage. But this is the idea of hospitality, that this tribe, Living Streams, would be those who are most hospitable. And there really isn’t something that’s more hospitable or expresses hospitality better than breaking bread. That this is our symbol in the body of Christ. It’s actually a revolutionary act to break bread together.

You can pass out the elements. When you think about this, this is God welcoming you to his table. Why? “I don’t know the theologies or I don’t know the doctrines, or maybe I do but I forgot them." Or maybe, “I’m not living them.” “I know them but I don’t live them.” No matter what, the welcoming nature of God is expressed most regularly and most simply in the act of communion. That God says, “You belong with me. You are mine.” We are brothers and sisters.

I would propose to you that not only is taking communion together an act of hospitality, it’s also an act of revolution. We are not going to live by the world’s values. We’re not going to think it’s about stuff or achievement. We are going to think about the love God, experience his love, and love people.

This is the place within the church, the tribe of the church, that we come together and God expresses that belonging. I actually think the most stunning thing about communion was the first one, when Jesus offered communion to Judas. I can’t believe this. He knew the betrayal. He knew what was going to happen, and he still says to Judas, “You belong with me.” So what this says to me is, no matter how far you have drifted, no matter how far you are, if this is your first time in church in twenty-two years, God says, “Glad you’re here.”

I mean, it’s nice that we say, “Glad you’re here.” But it’s a little bit nicer and lot more powerful that God says, “Glad you’re here. Welcome home, welcome home. Let’s share a meal together.”

And so communion expresses this idea of hospitality so beautifully. Theologically commanded in Scripture, and also it is an action, seemingly ordinary, but, like hospitality, subversive, powerful and a lot more than the sum of the parts.

On the night in which he was betrayed, Jesus took the bread. He gave thanks and he broke it. He said to his friends, “This is my body broken for you.” So let’s take and eat the bread, the body of Christ.

And likewise, he took the cup, pretty ordinary in its day, always an expression of hospitality, always an expression of, “We are friends in this together.” And in particular, that this is all new to you, this is the blood shed on a cross for your sin and mine and an offer of sweet forgiveness forever. Not just the past stuff, but the today stuff and that tomorrow stuff which will come. Forgiven once and for all and again and again and again. And it’s why he has commended communion to us—so that we would remember that well. The blood of Christ for the forgiveness of sin, the new covenant. The old is passed away, behold, the new has come.

If you feel like you don’t belong, I have failed. Please don’t let my failure become yours. You belong. The whole Bible, all of God’s history, every one of his expressions is to say to you and to me and to call us by name, not some generic somebody, “Hey, Dude,” but to say to us, “You belong. You’re with me. We are together in this thing called life and I want you to have it in abundance.”

And for that very reason, you belong. We belong. Why? Because that’s what God wants. And he has a way of getting what he wants. Let’s pray:

Lord, thank you for your hospitality toward us. We’re a little bit nervous about being revolutionaries, but we can certainly invite our neighbor over. We can love them and we can pay attention. We can get to know the guy at Starbucks and remember his name, the gal at the bank that cashes the check, the guy at Safeway that’s mopping the floor, our neighbor, the one that’s next door and behind us. We ask for the gift of names and we ask for the practice of hospitality, that we would always be known as “those weird-o’s that welcome everybody. They’ve got something different.”
Indeed. The Holy Spirit indwells and expresses itself most beautifully in receiving God’s love and expressing his love by loving other people. We just admit, Lord, we need help on this. Probably going to fumble a few times. But that’s not news to you. We ask for help. We ask for your fruitfulness and your thriving in our lives. I pray in Christ’s name, amen.

Unless otherwise noted, Scripture is taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide.

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