The encounter with the Lord, Abraham, and Sarah, as recorded in Genesis 18, reminds me of experiences growing up in a farm family. My parents are known for their hospitality. Whenever we had visitors at our farm, it was our custom to feed them. Like Sarah, my mother would scurry about to prepare food. Rather than killing a steer, she would sometimes go to the chicken house and kill a chicken, or to the garden to dig potatoes or pick beans, often with my little brother and me in tow. The food was always delicious and plentiful, and she experienced joy in serving others. Like my own sweet grandmother before her, Mom was good at hospitality. And she still can whip up an amazing meal on short notice at age 87.
In the Genesis story, Sarah’s laughter is sometimes looked at as a sign of doubt, but it is also a sign of joy and deep honesty. When life is tough, sometimes we need to laugh. And laughter is hard to control or program. Sarah’s laughter comes before she has the time to think about protocol, before she paused to think how her honest reaction might be interpreted by a critic who might find fault in her. This is the likely cause of her subsequent fear and back-peddling. But perhaps the Lord was laughing, too, as he delivered this news to this elderly couple, knowing that this story would be repeated and remembered as a sign of promises fulfilled by one who is faithful.
In the Gospel today, we have the story of the centurion, which often comes to mind during Mass as we repeat a close paraphrase of his words: “Lord, I am not worthy to have you enter under my roof; only say the word and my servant will be healed.” I admire his frank discussion with Jesus. He was a man with authority, but he instinctively recognized greater authority. His accurate assessment was not just empty words intended to curry favor, but instead represented an honest request for Jesus’ help. Don’t you wish we could always come to Jesus with such sincerity?
We also see the story of Jesus healing Peter’s mother-in-law. Like Sarah and my mom, she was also given to hospitality. Her first response after being healed was to rise from her bed and to wait upon Jesus. I imagine she was very glad to have this visitor in her home.
Today, let us cherish the visitors in our lives and be joyful in serving them. And like the centurion, let us also come honestly to God with our needs, knowing He is faithful and merciful to us in our weakness.
Edward Morse
Ed Morse is a professor of law who holds the McGrath North Endowed Chair in business law at Creighton. University School of Law. He and his wife Susan are Catholic converts. Together, they operate a family cattle farm in rural Western Iowa.
Writing these reflections over the past fifteen years has helped me to learn and grow in faith. Sometimes it has also chastened me by reminding me of the constant need to practice what we have learned as we live out our faith journey together. I am grateful for feedback and encouragement from my fellow travelers.
