Vessels of Welcome

A sermon preached by Revd. Sophie Ferguson

Sunday 16 August 2026

In the news this week, between the solar eclipse, the fifth heatwave of the summer, the devastation of droughts and fires, earthquakes, and the ongoing horrors in our world, there was one remarkable story that may have gone unnoticed.

Off the coast of Sicily, divers this week discovered the wreck of a Roman merchant ship, lying beneath the sea for more than 2,000 years. Inside, were around 500 ancient ceramic vessels.

They once carried valuable commodities, most likely olive oil, across the Mediterranean.

Oil in the ancient world was precious because it was something everyone needed. Used for cooking, medicine, lighting, and ritual anointing just to name a few uses. And now, 150 feet beneath the surface, these vessels have been discovered, mostly intact, telling a story not only of a shipwreck, but of human life thousands of years ago. And this is where we meet our Lessons from scripture this evening.

In 2 Kings, we heard another remarkable story of vessels and oil. The widow’s oil. The widow comes to the prophet Elisha in desperation. Her husband has died, and her creditors are coming to take her children as slaves. Elisha asks her a simple question, “What do you have in your house?” She replies that she has nothing of worth, except a little oil.

Elisha tells her to collect vessels from her neighbours. She takes the little oil she has and begins pouring. And somehow, the oil keeps flowing until every vessel is full. What appeared to be almost nothing became the place where God met her need. The widow takes what she has available, however small, and it becomes enough to move her from threatened debt towards economic freedom.

There are two more stories of women in our lessons this evening who use the resources they have to make room for another. The second is the Shunammite woman. Whenever Elisha passed through Shunem, the Shunammite women, who was well to do, invites Elisha into her home for a meal. Then she says to her husband, “Let us make a small room on the roof”. It is a wonderfully practical expression of hospitality. She makes space for Elisha. She gives him somewhere to rest. Her home becomes a place of sanctuary for Elisha.

The biblical text presents their relationship positively, one could speculate or do some Jewish midrash and interrogate what kind of relationship this women and Elisha had beyond what the text actually tells us, however, What this story does tell us, is that this woman used the resource she had available, her home, to welcome and show hospitality. And later, when tragedy strikes and her son dies, Elisha restores him to life.

Another woman. Another resource. Another extraordinary story.

And then we meet Lydia in the Acts of the Apostles. Lydia is in Philippi, in modern-day Greece, another city of the Mediterranean. She is sitting by the river on the Sabbath, a place of prayer, when Paul and his companions arrive. We discover that Lydia is a dealer in purple cloth. Purple, associated with wealth, status and luxury; Lydia is therefore not introduced as a passive woman waiting for Paul to save her. She is a businesswoman, a woman with economic independence and resources.

She hears Paul proclaim the gospel, her heart is opened, and she and her household are baptised. And immediately, her faith becomes hospitality. She urges Paul and his companions to come and stay at her home. And they are persuaded to stay.

So tonight we have three women: The widow who had oil. The Shunammite woman had a room. And Lydia, who had purple cloth and a home.

Three women using what they have to make space for something, or someone beyond themselves. And I think there is something important here about the material lives of women and their place in theology. The holy scriptures tell us about their debts, their children, their homes, their work, their possessions and their businesses. Because the stories and lives of these women matter and their resources matter.

Resources can be used to extract or to sustain. They can create dependency or freedom. They can build walls or open doors. And the three women in our readings, show us something about what happens when what we have, is placed at the service of another.

To safeguard the other and us, there needs to be boundaries to hospitality to make sure each party feels safe in the generosity of another. There will of course be moments in our lives when we are the ones opening the door, and moments when we desperately need someone else to open it for us.

Sometimes we have an abundance of resources. Sometimes we feel as though we have almost nothing. And perhaps this is where these ancient stories meet the world in which we are living.

We are living through a period of extraordinary movement of people. People are crossing borders because of war, persecution, poverty, climate change and political instability. Some move by choice; many move because they have no choice. And when people arrive in our country, they arrive somewhere. They are arriving in towns and cities just like this one.

Just this week I met a fellow mum, an Afghan refugee, and her children, who were simply trying to meet other mums during the summer holidays. And suddenly, the question of sharing resources and extending hospitality is no longer simply a question for someone else, somewhere else. It is happening right here and right now.

Families are leaving homes they never wanted to leave. Children are growing up between languages and cultures. And among those making these journeys are women who have fled war, persecution, violence and poverty. Women who carry not only their possessions, but the stories, hopes and wounds of the places they have left behind.

If every human being bears the image of God, then the changing landscape around us is not merely a demographic or political issue. It is a spiritual question. And perhaps the stories of these three women give insight into what it means to be asking spiritual questions around hospitality and welcome for those who are far from home. Because that is the strange and beautiful thing about the kingdom of God.

Sometimes we are the ones who need welcoming. Sometimes we have a room. Sometimes we are the person looking for somewhere safe to stay. Sometimes we are the empty vessel. Sometimes we have the oil.