You may still recall that just over a week ago, we experienced a mini heatwave in Aberdeenshire. It was hot enough and lasted long enough that I decided to buy a set of lighter clothing. Those who know me well would understand that it was a big deal – my fashion spending is so tight that if everyone followed suit, the industry would collapse. My friends who had gone to England for their holidays complained that they couldn’t take their planned long walks due to the heat and exposure. To their surprise, they found themselves feeling quite sleepy during the hottest part of the day. It didn’t surprise me, though. In countries with a hot climate, locals cease any activities during the hottest hours of the day; the Spanish even have a special word for it: “siesta”, derived from the Latin phrase “hora sexta”, which means the sixth hour and in “the old money” referred to around midday. But the idea isn’t limited to Spain and is much, much older than the Spanish language. The story of Abraham in today’s first reading started during his “siesta”: “The Lord appeared to Abraham by the oaks of Mamre, as he sat at the door of his tent in the heat of the day.”
There is a group of people in hot climate countries who do not stop their activities during the hottest part of the day: tourists from countries without a tradition of siesta. Having paid good money for their holidays, they are determined to visit as many attractions as possible, so they do not want to waste their precious daylight hours. To serve their needs, some locals must change their traditional way. It’s mainly those in the hospitality industry. For them, it’s about “making hay while the sun shines”, earning enough money to live when the tourist season ends, unlike Abraham’s hospitality, which wasn’t motivated by potential earnings. It was a deeply rooted part of the culture in the Middle East well before the time of Moses, who then made hospitality a command: “Do not do bad things to foreigners living in your country. You must treat them the same as you treat your own citizens. Love them as you love yourselves. Remember, you were foreigners in Egypt.” (Leviticus 19:33-34; Easy to Read Bible) The message was fortified centuries later in the New Testamental Letter to the Hebrews: “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.” (13:2), a reference to the story of Abraham in today’s first reading.
It is notable that despite the highly inconvenient timing of the unexpected visit (the hottest part of the day), Abraham, an elderly man by then, got himself involved in the preparations. The passage paints a dynamic scene full of rapid movement: to his wife to make stone-baked flat bread, then to his herd to pick up a suitable animal and order a servant to prepare it quickly. He picked “curds and milk” and brought it with bread and meat to his visitors. All that at the time of the day when the heat made it so much harder. The visitors appreciated his efforts and gave Abraham a promise that would make his lifelong dream come true: “I will surely return to you about this time next year, and Sarah, your wife, shall have a son.”
From the outset, the episode portrays Abraham’s visitors as of divine nature, but this must have only become clear in hindsight. The aforementioned passage from the Letter to the Hebrews, which is deeply rooted in Jewish tradition, made such a suggestion: “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.” It aligns with popular and widespread tales of kings and masters visiting their subjects in disguise. It also fits the biblical tradition, culminating in the famous vision of the Last Judgment presented by Jesus: “I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me. […] Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry […] or thirsty? […] And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you? […] Just as you did it to one of […] these, […] you did it to me.” (see Matthew 25:31-46)
Interestingly enough, the original Greek New Testament doesn’t actually have the word “hospitality” despite numerous prompts for followers of Christ to practise it. Instead, it uses the term “philoxenia”, made up of two Greek words: “phílo” (love) and “xenia” (stranger); so, it literally means “love of strangers.” This might present a challenge. It’s relatively easy to love our family and friends, even our neighbours next door, whom we know. Being kind to strangers can be much harder, particularly when it’s not part of your job description. Nevertheless, “do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.”
