As I mentioned in this week’s newsletter, I love bad Hallmark holiday movies, and honestly, the more absurd, the better. One of my favorites to debate with a friend is Dolly Parton’s Christmas in the Square because we can never quite decide if it’s a sincere Hallmark-style film or a tongue-in-cheek parody of the genre. Either way, the premise is wild.
Christine Baranski plays a powerful executive who decides to sell her small Midwestern hometown to a soulless corporation to build the nation’s largest shopping mall… on Christmas Eve, of course.
And then Dolly Parton herself appears… as an angel, disguised as the world’s most conspicuous “homeless person.” She carries a cardboard sign with just one word on it: “Change?” In true Dolly fashion, it’s not subtle at all.
I won’t spoil the ending, but the theme — that angels walk among us — has deep roots. It stretches back beyond Dolly and Hallmark, all the way into Scripture itself. And our reading from Hebrews reminds us: “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.”
We’ve been reading from the Letter to the Hebrews for the last few weeks, and the book ends with a flurry of reminders: keep loving one another, remember prisoners, care for the mistreated, share what you have.
It almost sounds like a long to-do list. But Hebrews isn’t piling on burdens — it’s inviting us to pay attention. That’s why Hebrews points us to angels — because the stranger who shows up at our door may in fact be carrying God’s message that we need to hear.
And this isn’t a new idea. It runs all through the Bible. The word in for “angel” in both Hebrew and Greek just means “messenger.” And Abraham, by the oaks of Mamre in Genesis 18, welcomes three strangers with bread, water, and shade. Only later does he realize he has received God’s own messengers, bringing the promise of new life when they tell him that he and his wife Sarah will have a son even though they are both very, very old.
And the pattern continues:
Jacob wrestles through the night with a mysterious stranger who leaves him both wounded and blessed.
Mary receives Gabriel’s announcement that she will bear God’s Son.
The shepherds in Bethlehem hear angels proclaim peace and Christ’s birth.
And at the empty tomb, angels declare to the women: “Jesus is not here; he is risen.”
Again and again, God sends messengers — not to kings or rulers, but to ordinary people. And almost always, they arrive when no one is expecting them.
And today, I’d like to share a little piece of community information that ties into this angelic theme. Here at St. Luke’s, we share our building with an organization called Care-Based Safety. They describe their mission as being dedicated to offering loving, unarmed support to people directly impacted by violence and crisis — without involving police. What that means is they help people resolve conflicts in peaceful ways so that they don’t have to escalate to needing police intervention.
Their work centers the needs of neighbors who are often most vulnerable: homeless folks, LGBT people, those struggling with mental illness, and those pushed to the margins of our society.
I’m bringing Care-Based Safety up today because on Friday, one of their leaders shared their draft volunteer training toolkit with me and asked if I’d help edit it. And guess what it’s called? Entertaining Angels — straight from today’s reading from Hebrews.
So as the winter shelter season approaches, stay tuned for ways that folks at St. Luke’s can join Care-Based Safety in their work to support our most vulnerable neighbors in Ypsilanti.
Now, I love the idea of having a community partner like Care-Based Safety where we can intentionally and accountably practice welcoming the stranger because the truth is, hospitality isn’t always easy. It can be risky. It can be uncomfortable. It can be demanding. But the promise of Scripture is this: when we open our doors and our hearts, God meets us there.
And sometimes, the very strangers we welcome turn out to be God’s messengers to us.
And friends, this is what Hebrews is teaching us.
To welcome a stranger is to say, “God may be here, speaking through this very person.” To remember prisoners is to live as though their chains bind us too. To remember the mistreated is to let their suffering touch our lives. Hospitality is how we train our hearts to see Christ in those the world overlooks.
So it’s no wonder Jesus describes the kingdom of God as a banquet — not for the rich and powerful, but for the poor, the disabled, and the forgotten.
That heavenly meal is what we conjure every time we gather for Eucharist. We come as strangers, and God welcomes us. We come hungry, and Christ feeds us. We come unworthy and sinful, and yet we are received as beloved and forgiven children of God.
And while we do this “in remembrance of him” Christ already remembers us. He never forsakes us. And he always saves a place for us at his table.
So maybe Dolly Parton was right after all. The angel in Christmas in the Square shows up with a cardboard sign that says “Change?” And maybe that’s the heavenly question for us too.
Can we be changed by the messengers God sends our way? Can we be a people that entertains angels, even when it stretches us, even when it costs us something?
Again, let us hear the reminder from Hebrews: “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.”
Friends, the angels are already here — in Scripture, in our streets, in our pews, in our homes, and in the guests who knock on our door. When we welcome them, may also we discover that we have already been welcomed at Christ’s banquet table. Amen.
Sermon for August 31, 2025
The Rev. Taylor Vines
As I mentioned in this week’s newsletter, I love bad Hallmark holiday movies, and honestly, the more absurd, the better. One of my favorites to debate with a friend is Dolly Parton’s Christmas in the Square because we can never quite decide if it’s a sincere Hallmark-style film or a tongue-in-cheek parody of the genre. Either way, the premise is wild.
Christine Baranski plays a powerful executive who decides to sell her small Midwestern hometown to a soulless corporation to build the nation’s largest shopping mall… on Christmas Eve, of course.
And then Dolly Parton herself appears… as an angel, disguised as the world’s most conspicuous “homeless person.” She carries a cardboard sign with just one word on it: “Change?” In true Dolly fashion, it’s not subtle at all.
I won’t spoil the ending, but the theme — that angels walk among us — has deep roots. It stretches back beyond Dolly and Hallmark, all the way into Scripture itself. And our reading from Hebrews reminds us: “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.”
We’ve been reading from the Letter to the Hebrews for the last few weeks, and the book ends with a flurry of reminders: keep loving one another, remember prisoners, care for the mistreated, share what you have.
It almost sounds like a long to-do list. But Hebrews isn’t piling on burdens — it’s inviting us to pay attention. That’s why Hebrews points us to angels — because the stranger who shows up at our door may in fact be carrying God’s message that we need to hear.
And this isn’t a new idea. It runs all through the Bible. The word in for “angel” in both Hebrew and Greek just means “messenger.” And Abraham, by the oaks of Mamre in Genesis 18, welcomes three strangers with bread, water, and shade. Only later does he realize he has received God’s own messengers, bringing the promise of new life when they tell him that he and his wife Sarah will have a son even though they are both very, very old.
And the pattern continues:
Again and again, God sends messengers — not to kings or rulers, but to ordinary people. And almost always, they arrive when no one is expecting them.
And today, I’d like to share a little piece of community information that ties into this angelic theme. Here at St. Luke’s, we share our building with an organization called Care-Based Safety. They describe their mission as being dedicated to offering loving, unarmed support to people directly impacted by violence and crisis — without involving police. What that means is they help people resolve conflicts in peaceful ways so that they don’t have to escalate to needing police intervention.
Their work centers the needs of neighbors who are often most vulnerable: homeless folks, LGBT people, those struggling with mental illness, and those pushed to the margins of our society.
I’m bringing Care-Based Safety up today because on Friday, one of their leaders shared their draft volunteer training toolkit with me and asked if I’d help edit it. And guess what it’s called? Entertaining Angels — straight from today’s reading from Hebrews.
So as the winter shelter season approaches, stay tuned for ways that folks at St. Luke’s can join Care-Based Safety in their work to support our most vulnerable neighbors in Ypsilanti.
Now, I love the idea of having a community partner like Care-Based Safety where we can intentionally and accountably practice welcoming the stranger because the truth is, hospitality isn’t always easy. It can be risky. It can be uncomfortable. It can be demanding. But the promise of Scripture is this: when we open our doors and our hearts, God meets us there.
And sometimes, the very strangers we welcome turn out to be God’s messengers to us.
And friends, this is what Hebrews is teaching us.
To welcome a stranger is to say, “God may be here, speaking through this very person.” To remember prisoners is to live as though their chains bind us too. To remember the mistreated is to let their suffering touch our lives. Hospitality is how we train our hearts to see Christ in those the world overlooks.
So it’s no wonder Jesus describes the kingdom of God as a banquet — not for the rich and powerful, but for the poor, the disabled, and the forgotten.
That heavenly meal is what we conjure every time we gather for Eucharist. We come as strangers, and God welcomes us. We come hungry, and Christ feeds us. We come unworthy and sinful, and yet we are received as beloved and forgiven children of God.
And while we do this “in remembrance of him” Christ already remembers us. He never forsakes us. And he always saves a place for us at his table.
So maybe Dolly Parton was right after all. The angel in Christmas in the Square shows up with a cardboard sign that says “Change?” And maybe that’s the heavenly question for us too.
Can we be changed by the messengers God sends our way? Can we be a people that entertains angels, even when it stretches us, even when it costs us something?
Again, let us hear the reminder from Hebrews: “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.”
Friends, the angels are already here — in Scripture, in our streets, in our pews, in our homes, and in the guests who knock on our door. When we welcome them, may also we discover that we have already been welcomed at Christ’s banquet table. Amen.