Fr Matthew Reese

Jesus said, “Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. Whoever welcomes a prophet in the name of a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward; and whoever welcomes a righteous person in the name of a righteous person will receive the reward of the righteous; and whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple––truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward.”
—Matthew 10:40-42

Dear Friends in Christ,

Today’s Gospel lesson is unusually short, especially in the context of some quite lengthy passages in recent weeks. And it also represents the fourth week in a near-continuous recitation of the “Mission Discourses” that unfold through chapters 9 and 10 of St Matthew’s Gospel.

In chapter 9, Jesus is demonstrating the kind of mission he expects of his disciples: He works a half dozen healing miracles, including bringing a temple authority’s daughter back from the dead. Jesus heals both Jew and Greek. He freely touches the ritually impure. He sits with sinners and tax collectors.

In this chapter, Jesus is putting those deeds into words for the disciples: see what I have done, now know the ministry to which you are called. Today’s lesson frames this as a kind of prophetic hospitality.

Ritual hospitality is central to most traditional societies, especially in the Near East, especially in the Levant. But Jesus is going beyond this. He is framing hospitality in eschatological terms. Whomever welcomes the disciples are, by extension, welcoming Jesus himself, and God the Father in Heaven. “Whoever welcomes a prophet in the name of a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward.”

Hagiographies in the Church’s history abound with such stories. Some weeks ago, a number of us heard a concert—put on by several St Philip’s musicians—of Arvo Pärt’s setting of “L’abbé Agathon.” Fr Agathon, the aged abbot, is going into town when he takes a leper on his shoulders. One request after the next is made of him, and he assents to them all, no matter how unreasonable. At the end, the leper transpires to be an angel in disguise.

The concept that any guest might, possibly, be an angel in disguise derives much from this passage in Matthew’s Gospel. It might have been made trite by tea cozies and cross-stitch panels, but it is a quite radical notion. Are we prepared to live into that call to hospitality?

Yours in Christ,

—Fr Matthew