Our scripture reading this morning comes from a chapter in Matthew that is all about the disciples and their mission in the world. The chapter kicks off with Jesus giving the twelve disciples authority to cast out unclean spirits, to cure the sick and to heal the injured all the while preaching the gospel to whomever would listen. It’s a huge responsibility and not one to be taken lightly. Oh, and lest I forget, they have to do all this traveling without any money or extra clothes or even a sleeping mat. They are to go just as they are and in each new place rely on the kindness of strangers. Hospitality is to be their only provision.
Welcome, hospitality, generosity – this is at the heart of what Jesus is teaching the disciples. More to the point, Jesus is teaching that hospitality is crucial to the advancement of forgiveness and healing, of justice and mercy and to hope. Without welcome there is no gospel message… so we have to wonder, if we are called to live a life of hospitality, if hospitality is so very important, then how are we supposed to practice it? It’s quite easy… start with a cup of cold water.
A cup of cold water? Is it really that easy? Just a cup of water? Can you imagine? Jesus was just talking about God’s dreams and visions for the world… if something world changing relies on hospitality, then how is a cup of water going to express it? How is a teeny act of kindness going to change anything? Are you telling us, Jesus, that a cup of water is going to usher in God’s reality?
There’s a small indigenous village in Mexico called Amatlan. A man from this village shared a story with a group of visiting theological students about his experience of crossing the American border in order to find work in the states (this is way before Trump’s influence). As he told his story his wife sat next to him busily knitting. The man, who was in his early thirties, spoke about how when his wife became pregnant they had no money, no hope of supporting a family, so they made the hard decision of sending him to the US for work.
For months he worked in Mexico to save up the $500 it took to pay for someone to take him across the border illegally. He paid his money, joined a group of men and then in the cover of darkness this group crossed the desert toward the border. It was so dark they couldn’t see if a snake or scorpion lay in their path. They walked through the day, overheating in the sun, wearing holes in his shoes, dehydrated and exhausted. One of the group, a man in his 70s collapsed from the heat, so he was carried on the shoulders of another man the rest of the way. Just as the group of men finally got close to the American border they were stopped by the Border Patrol and taken back to Mexico. Traumatized and penniless, the man started over, earning another $500 and taking the horrendous desert trip again. This time, however, he made it to the states and eventually found work. Work consisted of ten hour shifts with no breaks, making less than minimum wage. He never stopped working, not even when he cut his hand open washing dishes. His boss wouldn’t let him stop. He spoke no English so couldn’t tell anyone what he needed, let alone defend himself in the face of harsh and racist treatment. After three years of saving he was able to go home to Mexico to meet his now three year old daughter for the first time.
As the man told his story to the theology students, his wife continued her knitting. Between the story and the sound of the knitting needles, one of the students asked: How can we help? What can we do to change this? The man looked to the group and said: “just be nicer. Don’t treat us like we are horrible. Be kind.”
This is how the simple act of extending hospitality, a simple act of kindness, embodies what Jesus tells his disciples: “whoever welcomes you, welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me, welcomes the one who sent me.”
During Jesus’ time, Jewish law dictated that a person’s emissary was synonymous with that very person. So, if you welcomed an emissary into your home, you welcomed who ever sent the emissary in. To welcome a disciples with a cup of water, for all intents and purposes, you were welcoming Jesus. And when you welcome Jesus, you welcome God.
Can you imagine where this leads us? To whom are we to show this kindness, this hospitality? The passage mentions giving a cup of water “to one of these little ones in my name?” What little ones? Now before we start constraining the little ones to Christians only, we need to take a moment to skip ahead to Matthew 25 where Jesus talks about our requirement to help everyone. There, Jesus calls us to extend kindness to any human, welcoming any member of what the poet Maya Angelou beautifully terms “the human family,” especially those who are among the outcasts. To welcome the most vulnerable, is to welcome Jesus, is to welcome God.
There is a story I found about a young priest visiting an older priest, and during the visit he mentions the vagrants who come by the church seeking help. He says to his elder, “I know we’re supposed to help the poor but these people are asking for help with a bus ticket or a utility bill or gas money or food… is that really their story? Are they going to spend the money like they said they would or are they going to spend it on something the church doesn’t support? It’s exhausting justifying who I’m going to help and why.” The elder priest sits back and let’s the young priests words hang in the air for a moment and then says: “What business is it of yours determining who gets help and who doesn’t? Why exhaust yourself with that burden? You are a follower of Jesus Christ, your task, therefore is simply to share out of the wealth of God’s abundance. Your requirement is simply to love others as God loves you. Your job is simply to give.”
Offering hospitality may mean offering it to someone who lives in a situation completely outside of our experiences. When we offer hospitality, when we welcome the other and establish a relationship with that person, the distinction between insider and outsider disappears. Instead we find the space to listen and learn from each other, valuing and honouring one another until all are seen as valued, loved, and cherished.
Hospitality is crucial to the gospel message because unless we change our perspectives, unless we shift our hearts and minds, and see other not as other but as beloveds, then we cannot be about compassion and love, of justice and healing. Jesus speaks of how when we welcome the least of society, we in fact welcomed him. So who in our world are we called to welcome? Who is jesus calling us to listen to and learn from so that God’s dream for the world could be fulfilled?
Perhaps we need to offer the proverbial cup of cold water to the residential school survivor who lives with addiction and the very real experience of PTSD. Perhaps we need to extend kindness to the teen who’s parents kicked her out when they discovered she was a lesbian, because their faith teaches them that homosexuality is a sin.
In the worlds of the man from Amatlan, Mexico, perhaps we need to be nicer to the immigrants and newcomers in our midst, to those living in the shadows, afraid of deportation.
And perhaps by practicing hospitality, by offering radical welcome, we move into a space where we all realize that each of us is loved by God, valued by God and that each of us is crucial to the divine vision of justice, equity and love coming to fruition. Maybe by offering welcome we allow the invisible and voiceless to be visible and heard, so that all of creation is honoured for who they are instead of ignored or cast aside dur to skin colour or religion or gender or orientation or economics or…maybe by living into hospitality and generosity, we will slowly move our world into a place where cups of cold water are offered freely and often to all who need them.
May it be so. Amen.
