Today’s Gospel is only three verses long. At first glance, it seems almost too simple. “Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.”
Then Jesus talks about prophets, righteous people, and even giving a cup of cold water to one of his little ones. It almost sounds like a collection of unrelated sayings. But they all point in the same direction. Jesus is teaching his disciples what life looks like after they are sent into the world.
Jesus has spent this entire chapter preparing the disciples for mission. He has not painted a rosy picture. He has told them they will face rejection. Some towns will refuse them. Families will be divided. Some people will oppose them simply because they belong to him.
Then Jesus speaks these final words. "Whoever welcomes you welcomes me." These words are more than encouragement. They are a promise. Not every door will close. Some people will receive the disciples, and in receiving them they will receive Christ himself.
Jesus is saying something remarkable. He ties his own identity to ordinary disciples. They are not powerful people. They are simply men and women sent with the good news of God's kingdom. Yet Jesus says that when people receive them, they receive him. Christ identifies himself so completely with those he sends that welcoming them becomes welcoming Christ himself, and welcoming Christ becomes welcoming the Father who sent him.
Growing up, whenever someone came to our house, the first thing my mother did was bring out a glass of water and something to eat. If someone knocked on the door asking for food, she would make a couple of burritos and send them on their way. At the time, I thought she was simply being generous. Looking back, I realize she was living today's Gospel long before I understood it.
In Jesus' world, hospitality meant even more than it often does today. There were no hotels on every corner. Travelers depended on strangers for food, shelter, and safety. Welcoming someone was an act of protection and dignity.
Jesus goes on to mention prophets and righteous people. In the Old Testament, prophets spoke God's word, often at great personal cost. Righteous people were those who sought to live faithfully before God. Jesus is not creating different levels of rewards. He is saying that when we welcome those who faithfully serve God, we are joining ourselves to God's work.
Every one of us has people who made our faith possible. Parents. Sunday school teachers. Pastors. Friends who prayed for us. You may never stand in a pulpit or lead a Bible study, but every time we encourage, support, or pray for those who proclaim Christ, we become part of that ministry.
That is an incredible promise. It is also a challenge.
Jesus says that even giving a cup of cold water to one of his disciples matters. It is not because the water is extraordinary. It is because offering that cup is a way of saying, “I stand with Christ. I stand with those who belong to him.”
Like we hear last week following Jesus is costly. Welcoming those whom Jesus sends can be costly too. That is because hospitality is not just about opening the door. It is about opening our hearts.
Many people who walk through our doors wonder if they will belong here. Some are new to the community. Some are carrying grief. Some have been hurt by another church. Almost everyone arrives hoping someone will notice them.
So perhaps the question for us is Who do we find difficult to welcome? Who walks into our church wondering whether they belong? Who has convinced themselves that there is no place for them in God's family?
I don't have to imagine what that looks like because many of you have told me your stories.
Some of you have shared your own stories about the first time you came to Faith-La Fe and why you stayed. As a matter of fact, none of you said it was because of the sermon. You stayed because someone greeted you. Someone learned your name. Someone made you feel you belonged. That is holy work.
As Lutherans, we know we are not earning rewards by doing good works. We are responding to the grace we have already received.
We spend a lot of time talking about welcoming Jesus. The truth is, Jesus welcomed us first.
Before we ever welcomed Christ, Christ welcomed us. In Holy Baptism, God claimed us as his own long before we knew how to respond. We did not earn our place in God's family. We were received by grace alone. And because we have been welcomed, we become people who welcome others.
There is another challenge in this Gospel. Jesus says, “Whoever welcomes you…” That means there are times when we are the ones who must receive hospitality.
That is not always easy.
Many of us would rather be the helper than the one being helped. Giving feels easier than receiving. Receiving reminds us that we are not as independent as we like to believe. Yet allowing others to care for us is also part of the Body of Christ.
Last week we prayed for Paul as he begins treatment for cancer. Many of you have asked how you can help. Some will send a card. Some will pray. Some will help with expenses. Those are simple acts of Christ's love. They are ways of saying to Paul, “You are not carrying this alone.”
Today Paul is receiving that care. Another day, he will be the one offering it. That is how the Body of Christ lives together. Sometimes we offer the cup. Sometimes we receive it.
Every Sunday we come as people who need to be welcomed once again. We come empty handed. Christ is the host. He welcomes sinners and saints. He places the bread and the cup into our hands and feeds us with forgiveness and mercy. Then he sends us back into the world to become that same welcome for others.
This table shapes the way we live once we leave this sanctuary.
The beautiful thing about today’s Gospel is that Jesus does not measure faithfulness by impressive accomplishments. He simply says that even a cup of cold water given in his name is seen. Nothing offered in love is ever wasted.
When we leave this place today, we will return to our homes, workplaces, neighborhoods, and schools. We may not change every life we meet. We may never preach to crowds. But every time we offer kindness, every time we make room for someone, every time we refuse to let another person carry their burden alone, people encounter the welcome of Christ through us. That is how God's kingdom grows. One welcome. One act of mercy. One cup of cold water at a time.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
