Hotdogs, Hospitality, and Holy Scripture
This morning I woke up listening to Joshua. The reading spoke of kings, cities, Jerusalem, and the conquest of Canaan. My first reaction was surprisingly simple: I had forgotten Jerusalem was originally a Canaanite city.
That led me down a rabbit hole into the Torah and an old Jewish teaching. The rabbis ask why the Torah begins with Genesis instead of the first commandment given to Israel. Their answer is practical. Genesis establishes that God is Creator, and therefore the land belongs to Him. The story is not merely spiritual reflection. It is also an accounting of covenant, inheritance, and promise.
“The Torah, which primarily teaches God’s commandments, need only have begun with the verse: “This month must be for you the beginning of the months,” 1 which is the first commandment given to the people of Israel. For what reason, then, does it begin with the Book of Genesis? Because it wishes to communicate the concept expressed in the verse: “He has declared the power of His deeds (i.e., an account of Creation) to His people, to give them the inheritance of nations” 2 – for if the nations of the world were to say to the people of Israel, “You are bandits because you conquered the lands of the seven nations of Canaan,” they would answer them, “The entire earth belongs to the Holy One, blessed be He; He created it and gave it to whom He saw fit. When He wanted, He gave this land to them, and subsequently when He wanted, He took it away from them and gave it to us.””
Something about that grounded me.
As Christians, we can sometimes become so focused on symbolism that we forget Scripture is also describing real people, real places, real meals, and real encounters.
That thought brought me back to Abraham.
Genesis tells us that Abraham sat at the entrance of his tent during the heat of the day when three visitors approached. Jewish tradition often emphasizes Abraham's hospitality. He was known for welcoming strangers, feeding travelers, and opening his tent to those in need.
“Now that you have come to your servant, let me bring you a little food, that you may refresh yourselves; and afterward you may go on your way.” “Very well,” they replied, “do as you have said.” Abraham hurried into the tent to Sarah and said, “Quick, three measures* of bran flour! Knead it and make bread.” He ran to the herd, picked out a tender, choice calf, and gave it to a servant, who quickly prepared it. Then he got some curds* and milk, as well as the calf that had been prepared, and set these before them, waiting on them under the tree while they ate.”
One tradition even describes the meal he prepared in very ordinary terms. As I listened, I couldn't help but laugh.
Abraham basically made the ancient equivalent of hotdogs.
“בֶּן־בָּקָר רַךְ וָטוֹב - One tender and choice calf. There were three calves, so as to feed them three tongues with mustard.
אֶל־הַנַּעַר - To the youth. This was Ishmael. He so instructed him to train him in mitzvot.”
Three guests arrive unexpectedly. Abraham rushes to prepare food. A meal is served. Conversation follows.
What struck me was how normal it all felt.
Not clouds.
Not thunder.
Not a vision on a mountain.
Just a father welcoming guests and preparing lunch.
Yet in that ordinary act comes one of the greatest announcements in salvation history: Sarah will bear Isaac.
God met Abraham in the middle of daily life.
Then, as if to confirm the lesson, today's reading from 2 Timothy arrived:
“All scripture is inspired by God and is useful for teaching, for refutation, for correction, and for training in righteousness,”
For years I read that verse mostly as a statement about doctrine. Today I heard something else.
Scripture trains us not only by revealing heavenly mysteries, but by teaching us how faithful people actually lived.
Abraham teaches hospitality.
Joshua teaches obedience.
Moses teaches perseverance.
David teaches repentance.
The Apostles teach endurance.
Scripture is not a collection of detached spiritual ideas. It is the record of God working through ordinary people in ordinary circumstances.
As fathers, we often think we need dramatic moments to lead our families. We imagine we need the perfect lesson, the perfect prayer, or the perfect answer.
But Abraham's example reminds us that faithfulness often looks much simpler.
Open the door.
Prepare the meal.
Welcome the guest.
Listen to God.
Today's irony is not lost on me. I woke up listening to Joshua's conquest, found myself reflecting on Abraham grilling lunch for unexpected visitors, and then arrived at church to hear that all Scripture equips us for every good work.
Maybe that is the point.
The same God who led Israel into the Promised Land also sat beneath a tree with Abraham.
The same God who inspired the prophets also entered ordinary human life.
And the same God still trains us through His Word, not to escape reality, but to live faithfully within it.
Sometimes holiness looks less like a vision and more like serving lunch.
And sometimes the inspired Word of God is teaching us exactly that.