Yesterday we reflected on that wonderful story in the book of Genesis (chapter 18) about Abraham and Sarah. In this story, at first, Abraham and Sarah are the hosts—the ones doing the giving. But they end up being the ones who receive the gift.

I wonder if you’ve ever experienced that.

I’ve had the tables turned on me often in ministry. There was a member of a church I once served—a younger man who was dying of cancer. The doctors gave him six weeks to live, but he ended up living five more years. I’ll never forget going to visit him shortly before his death. We were talking, and he was telling me how his diagnosis had not changed his life so much as it actually had given him more life. He said, all of a sudden he appreciated and savored every moment he had—with his wife, each hug from his daughter. Each sunset; each sunrise took on new meaning.

While we were talking it hit me—I wasn’t the one ministering to him—he was ministering to me.

I wonder if Abraham and Sarah felt that.

It is indeed the witness of people of faith across the generations, that more often than not, when we care for someone in need, we end up receiving way more than we ever give.

Let us pray: Holy God, across the ages you have sent us more witnesses than we could recognize, more help than we could seek, and more of yourself than we have been able to recognize or love. Thank you for your hospitality to us. Empower us to share that same love, acceptance, and grace with a world desperately in need. Amen.

In the book of Genesis, chapter 18, there is a wonderful story about Abraham and Sarah. We find Abraham, at this point an old man, hanging out under the oak trees. Three strangers walk up out of nowhere, and for all he knows they’re enemies. But he jumps up, invites them to stay, has their feet washed, and prepares a literal feast for them.

Strangers…

Now a little background here might be helpful. In the ancient Near East, because travel was so dangerous, there was a very strict code of hospitality. You were bound to give food and shelter to anyone who showed up at your doorstep. This was a matter of mutual survival—a sort of social covenant.

For ancient Jews and Christians, there was more at stake. There was a deep-seated belief that showing hospitality to the immigrant, the traveler, the foreigner, or the stranger was a way of meeting and receiving the holy presence of God.

In this story, at first, Abraham and Sarah are the hosts—the ones doing the giving. But they end up being the ones who receive the gift. These strangers turn out to be angels. They speak for God. They promise that Sarah would become pregnant in her old age—and that God was still going to use them in a powerful way.

This act of hospitality opens the door to a holy moment…

I don’t know about you, but I probably need to pray for the ability to be more hospitable to strangers. Because I think about the other side of this. What a sweet concept hospitality is—especially when we are on the receiving end.

A few years ago, a friend was telling me about how—when she was first trying to come to grips with her addiction to alcohol—she went to her first AA meeting. Of course, she was very scared. When she showed up, a very large intimidating man walked right up to her. I guess he sensed her nervousness, and he said, “You must be new here. It’s going to be alright. Come on in.”

In the book of Hebrews we read: “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.”

How might that look for you over this holy season?

Let us pray: Holy God, across the ages you have sent us more witnesses than we could recognize, more help than we could seek, and more of yourself than we have been able to recognize or love. Thank you for your hospitality to us. Empower us to share that same love, acceptance, and grace with a world desperately in need. Amen.

I have a friend who has battled depression over the years, and she tells me that every day, without fail, she writes in her gratitude journal. Every day without fail, she lists 10 things that she’s thankful for. Not generic things—not just: Oh, I’m thankful for friends and family—but much more specific:

I’m thankful for the smell of fresh-brewed coffee first thing in the morning; the shade and sunlight at play on the trees in the late afternoon; the dog curled up on her bed next to the fire; the phone call from my daughter and her easy laughter; the quiet stillness of my grandchild breathing—sound asleep after a full day of play.

Personally, I think about an elderly couple I regularly see holding hands in worship. A young man and older gentleman walking together to help fight hunger. The strong cry of a three-month-old baby, baby Legend, held tight in the arms of a friend who is now this baby’s adopted mother. I think about the prayer of a granddaughter so eloquently spoken at the hospice bedside of her grandmother—and the tenderness of the touch between them.

My friend tells me that without fail this exercise, naming just 10 things, leaves her feeling alive, hopeful, and ready for the day.

Author Melody Beattie once wrote, “Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more… It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow.”

All of that said, gratitude is a discipline in that it involves a conscious effort. It is a choice. Today, may you notice the gifts around you as gifts. May you reflect on what difference Christ has made in your life, your faith community, and your faith. May you give thanks. And may you respond with all of your heart.

Let us pray: As we approach Christmas, O God, we remember the gift of your Son and your unconditional love for each one of us. We don’t have to look far to see how your blessings abound. We do indeed return our deepest gratitude. And in response, we ask you to use our lives, our words, and deeds to bless others. We pray in Christ. Amen.

Today’s message was written by Rev. Dr. Roger Kunkel, founder of Dial Hope.

Because of the coming of Jesus Christ, Christmas is the good news that hope is real. Hope is always a faith possibility. In Hebrews 10:23 we read: “Let us hold fast to the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who has promised is faithful.”

One day, very close to Christmas, a child was coming down the hall at church. He had in his hand a little ceramic tray that he had made for his mother. As he ran down the hall, he tripped and fell. The tray broke into several pieces. The child was devastated. He began to cry loudly and uncontrollably. People tried to comfort him with all kinds of advice: “It was just a tray.” “You can make another one.” “You can give your mother something else.” The child was inconsolable. Finally, his mother arrived on the scene.

She immediately realized what had happened. Bending down beside her son and his broken gift, she said, “Well, now, let’s pick up the pieces and take it all home. We’ll put it together and see what we can make of it.”

Isn’t that exactly what the Christmas message of hope is about? The world is broken into many fragments, as are our lives. God stoops down beside us. “Well, now,” God says, “Let me help you pick up the pieces. We’ll put it back together and see what we can make of it.”

On a night long ago, God walked down the stairs of heaven with a tiny child in his arms. That child is a source of hope in human life. Friend of Dial Hope, be a sign of hope in a fragmented world. God has blessed you to be a blessing to others.

Let us pray: Loving God, in this season of waiting and yearning, give us the grace to wait for your coming to the bottom of our toes, to the edges of our fingertips. Come and make all things new. Be born in us today and lead us to the light of your love. Help us, with your grace, to make this day a masterpiece. Through Jesus Christ, the Messiah. Amen.

Some time ago, I heard a great story about the St. Paul School of Theology in Kansas City. At that time, they were seeking a new president and received over one hundred resumes. The search committee narrowed the list to five extremely qualified candidates. Someone then came up with a brilliant idea. They decided they would send one person to visit each institution where the five finalists were currently employed. On the sly, they would interview only the custodian, asking his opinion of the person seeking to be their president! The search committee commenced at once. And sure enough, one janitor gave such a glowing appraisal of the candidate that he was selected as the next president of St. Paul’s School of Theology!

I thought that was beautiful. What that search committee understood is that deep faith in Christ will transform all of a person’s relationships. He or she will no longer relate to others according to how much money they make, or how much power they have, or what prestige they carry. No. They treat custodians and presidents with equal respect and dignity.

In 2 Corinthians, chapter 5, Paul writes, “For the love of Christ urges us on, because we are convinced that one has died for all; therefore all have died. And he died for all so that those who live might live no longer for themselves, but for him who died and was raised for them. From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human point of view…”

May you and I regard no one from a human point of view, but instead with the eyes of Christ. And may we remember that each person is a child of God and worthy of our respect and love.

Let us pray: We thank you, O God, that your love for us is unconditional. Help us to share that same kind of love with a world desperately in need. Wash over us with your grace and give us eyes to see the soul beneath the surface of those around us and the beauty and strength within. Amen.