In this week’s adult Sunday School video series by Ray Vander Laan, he speaks about how hospitality is everything. The greatest honor in this ancient culture is the opportunity to give to someone else.

Three chapters after the blood path (Genesis 15), Abraham and Sarah are told they will be redeemed (Genesis 18).

“The LORD appeared to Abraham” (Genesis 18:1). The word "LORD" is written in all caps, indicating that it's God's personal name—Yahweh. There is no doubt about who is appearing, but that is not who Abraham sees initially. He is sitting in a tent during the heat of the day and sees three men standing nearby (Genesis 18:1-2), but he doesn’t recognize who they are. Among them is Yahweh, the LORD, and the other two are angels, later revealed in Genesis 19, but Abraham doesn’t know this. To him, they are three strangers. He appears never to have seen them before and likely believes he will never see them again.

Since they are strangers in the desert, and Abraham is a nomad who likely would have known everyone within a fifty-mile radius, he recognizes that these men are not from the area. Where are they from? Could this be the beginning of the Beth Ab (Hebrew for "house of the father")? Will Abraham and Sarah be the ones doing the redeeming? The original audience would have asked these questions, Ray says.

The issue is that Abraham and Sarah are living in a Middle Eastern desert culture that places a high value on hospitality. Abraham is part of a culture that honors generosity. People are not merely drawn to the Beth Ab—they are drawn to the God of the Beth Ab.

Immediately within the text is something countercultural. First, Abraham runs to greet the strangers (Genesis 18:2). Then he hurries into the tent to speak with Sarah (Genesis 18:6), which implies urgency. Finally, he runs to the herd (Genesis 18:7). In this culture, old men do not run. It was considered shameful and undignified. Elders were to carry themselves with dignity, and running would be viewed as dishonoring the household. For Abraham to run shows he is willing to break cultural norms for the sake of welcoming these guests.

Including Elijah, there are four men in Scripture who are described as running (though we do not know Elijah’s age, so this may or may not have been considered shameful for him). Esau runs to meet Jacob after twenty years and embraces him, even though Jacob had stolen from him (Genesis 33:4). The father in the story of the prodigal son runs to meet his returning son (Luke 15:20). Elijah runs ahead of Ahab to Jezreel after calling down fire from heaven (1 Kings 18:46).

Hospitality would have been expected, but not like that. This encounter with Abraham, the LORD, and the two angels happens during the heat of the day—the warmest time, around noon. Why is Abraham sitting in the tent? Tents were made of dark materials, often black goat hair, which helped create air circulation. It wasn’t really breezy, but it allowed some airflow and relief from the intense desert heat.

In the previous chapter, Abraham is also sitting in the tent (Genesis 17:23-27). Why? He had just been circumcised at the age of ninety-nine (Genesis 17:24) which was probably a painful experience. Now imagine him running to greet strangers while still healing. He is in serious discomfort, yet he runs to welcome them. Perhaps he hopes to bring them into the Beth Ab to redeem them, or perhaps to give them a Beth Ab of their own.

He wants them to be part of his household. Abraham says, “Let a little water be brought, and then you may all wash your feet and rest under this tree” (Genesis 18:4). In that culture, men were not typically involved in foot washing. It wasn’t considered shameful—it simply wasn’t men’s work. Drawing water and washing feet were usually the responsibilities of women, especially in nomadic desert communities.

By facilitating this gesture, Abraham is again behaving counterculturally. He is more involved in the act of hospitality than expected. Then he runs to the herd and selects a small, tender, choice calf, from which he prepares meat and cheese for the guests (Genesis 18:7-8).

He then tells Sarah, “Quick! Get three seahs of the finest flour and knead it and bake some bread” (Genesis 18:6). This is also unusual. In that time, there were typically three types of grain available. The finest flour would have been wheat—the rich man's grain—which was easier to work with, tasted better, and was available for purchase at the market, though it was harder to store. Most people grew barley, which was more resistant to disease and pests but produced a coarser bread. Barley bread tended to be crunchier because of remaining husks.

What Abraham is saying to his guests is, “Don’t give them what we would normally eat, give them the best.” Ray makes the comparison that this would be like someone from the United States opening two $800 bottles of wine imported from France for three total strangers.

Telling Sarah to make the bread is not countercultural. In fact, there was honor in having people see you make bread for them. In that context, there was no greater privilege than to serve others and provide hospitality. Abraham and Sarah are effectively saying, “I welcome you, and I want to serve you.”

In verse 8, Abraham and Sarah do not eat first. Traditionally, the patriarch of the household would eat before the guests. But after Sarah bakes the bread, they allow the visitors to eat first (Genesis 18:8), which again is unexpected. Usually, the patriarchs were expected to eat first. Ray says this is either to show the rest of those gathered that 1. This food is good enough for him and marks his seal of approval, or 2. It pays honor to the patriarch.

They are following the cultural script of hospitality—but exceeding it. To an outsider reading this story, the impression would be: “They’re even more hospitable than their culture demands.” Verse 6 says that Abraham tells Sarah to prepare three seahs of flour which equals 20 to 25 pounds each, totaling 60 to 75 pounds of flour. That’s enough bread to feed a household for months. Abraham is making sure these guests are left with more than enough to eat, even long after they leave.

He wants the world to know that he is hospitable, because he hopes to integrate even strangers into the Beth Ab because he and Sarah have caught a glimpse of what God is like. And maybe, like Ruth, these strangers will say, “Your people will be my people, and your God my God” (Ruth 1:16).

Jin Matthew 13:33, Jesus told the disciples another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like...” He wants people to understand what the kingdom is like. “It is like yeast that a woman took and mixed into about sixty pounds of flour until it worked all through the dough” (Matthew 13:33). To Jesus’ Jewish listeners, this would have immediately brought to mind Abraham and Sarah. Oh, the kingdom of heaven is like Abraham and Sarah. Extreme hospitality. This is what God wants from us.

His audience would have understood that when your harvest is larger than you need, you invite the homeless and the hungry. You give away the abundance. You may not be a wealthy investor—but you can provide for those in need (Luke 14:13-14). This extravagant understanding of the kingdom, marked by generosity, welcome, and the inclusion of outsiders, even Moabite and Canaanite women of questionable reputation (Matthew 1:5), is what the kingdom of heaven is truly like (Matthew 22:1–14).