“Even One Cup of Water”
Matthew 10:40-42
In the words of Jimmy Buffett, “I have a PBS mind in an MTV world.” Seminary taught me how to be a pastor
within the context of an ecclesiastical model that was highly effective in the
1950’s, a model that has less and less relevance in a postmodern world. I am somewhat of a dinosaur. But if I’m going to be faithful to my
calling, like it or not, I need to deal with what is and quit wishing for what
used to be. Hold onto that thought.
Please listen as I read a paraphrase of those long ago words of Jesus, “Whoever welcomes a disciple of mine
welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the Father who sent me. Whoever welcomes a messenger of God because
he or she is God’s messenger will receive the same reward as does the
messenger; and whoever welcomes a righteous person because he or she is a
righteous person will receive the same reward as does the righteous person; and
whoever recognizes even the least of my disciples as my disciple, and extends
to him or her even the small kindness of a cool drink, can be sure of an
eternal reward.”
Prior to today’s text Jesus has been talking about the costs of
discipleship. He has also just
instructed his disciples as to what their mission is and by whose authority and
under whose protection they are to carry it out. Today’s words, however, are aimed at other
folks: those who will encounter the disciples on their mission, and either
welcome or reject them.
As Jesus speaks these words he is projecting into the near future, to a
time when the disciples will be carrying out the Great Commission, a time when
the early church will be growing, but also a time when the church will
encounter persecution. At such a time it
will be risky to welcome a fellow Christian into one’s home.
By the time Matthew’s Gospel was transmitted around the church in
written form, Jesus’ prophetic warnings had come true. A major demand of discipleship – its proof
and its test - would be hospitality. A
primary role of those early Christians was to provide room, board, and welcome
to their fellow saints.
The question of each Christian of that era was, “Am I willing to endanger myself and my family for the sake of the
Gospel? When messengers of God come to
town will I welcome them into my home? Will
I faithfully listen as they share God’s Word? When any righteous person, anyone who is about
the business of the Kingdom, knocks on my door, will I invite him or her
in? Am I willing to risk everything,
including life itself, by playing host to even the most ordinary of my fellow
Christians? Will I compromise the safety
of my household by giving such a person even one cup of water?”
Today’s text has implications for disciples of Jesus living in the
postmodern world of 21st Century America. How welcoming are we of our fellow Christians? How willing are we to put ourselves out for a
brother or sister visiting from a foreign land or a new immigrant in search of a
church home?
How ready are we to change schedules, alter the order of worship, or
plan alternative services in order to meet the needs of fellow Christians? How patient are we willing to be with those
who understand little or no English, or who have no idea what the Apostles Creed
is? How willing are we to open our
church home to Christians strange to us?
In this time and place we don’t risk persecution for such things, but
we do risk the incoveniences that come with
assimilating new or different Christians.
We risk the emotional and physical costs that must be paid when we
decide to do church a different way.
Almost 2,000 years after Jesus spoke the words of today’s text a major
proof of our discipleship is our willingness to put ourselves out for a brother
or sister in Christ.
A piece of that willingness is our openness to what our brothers and
sisters from Africa, Asia, and
There are also prophetic voices closer to home to which we must listen,
the voices of our children, grandchildren, and their contemporaries. They want to hear the Gospel. They are hungering for God’s Word. Like Christians of every time and place they
seek nurture and fellowship. They want
to worship God with integrity.
This is their message to us. Doing
church like we’ve always done it is not going to meet their spiritual
needs. Nor is it going to attract
would-be-disciples of their generation.
They don’t want a different Gospel.
They don’t want watered down theology.
They simply want a church home where the Gospel is proclaimed in their
language, where they can worship in a style with which they can identify.
That’s where Jesus’ call for hospitality to fellow Christians really
comes into play. It is never hospitable
to say to any Christian seeking a church home, “This is the way we do it. We’ve
always done it this way. We intend to do
it this way until the Kingdom comes.
Don’t ask us to change. If you
want to be part of this church family, you’re the one who’s going to have to
make the adjustments. Learn English,
especially as it’s written and spoken by Middle-class Presbyterians. Study liturgical history. Bone up on how John Calvin, John Knox, and
the
Do we ever say such things out loud?
Of course not.
We are polite. We are verbally
and physically welcoming. We would never
dream of being rude. We really do want the
church to grow. It is not our intent to
be culturally insensitive or class conscious.
We are not a bunch of stubborn old fuddy-duddies, still stuck in the
late Nineteenth Century. Our hearts are
in the right place.
But change is scary for old dinosaurs like me. Old habits are hard to break. In a time of rapid change and pervasive
instability we want a place where we can feel comfortable and safe. For most of us the only such place left is
church. Our internal message, the
subliminal message that we project to others, is, “Don’t take that away from us. Don’t
ask us to move out of our comfort zone.
Don’t change our music. Don’t
tamper with our liturgy. Don’t ask us to
offer alternative forms of worship, Christian education, or fellowship. We want folks to feel welcome – we really
do! But we don’t want to take the risks
or pay the price that come with change.”
Still, our Lord commands hospitality. He isn’t asking us to water down the
Gospel. If anything, he wants us to stop
pussyfooting around some of its harder to hear truths. The Lord simply wants us to proclaim it in ways
that those who hear it can understand. Jesus
isn’t asking us to sacrifice our theological integrity on behalf of political
correctness or cultural approval. He
just wants us to speak the truth in love, using words and idioms familiar to
the postmodern or non-American mind.
We are not being asked to do away with familiar hymns or abandon
historic forms of liturgy. Some folks
still need them in order to feel welcome and safe. The Lord is asking us to make our
worship service as visitor friendly as possible, incorporating, as is
appropriate, contemporary music and worship styles. Or, if our blended worship doesn’t pass the
hospitality test, seriously consider something more contemporary at a different
time or on a different day. Reformed
worship, just like Reformed theology, can remain Reformed even when it’s
transported in a more relevant vessel.
That’s hard for this old dinosaur to hear. But hear it I must – and then share it with
you. As Bob Dylan sang to us boomers, “Things they are a changin’.” That was true forty years ago. It is much more so today. Christian hospitality is something demanded
of us by Christ. How tragic it would be,
if in our need to be comfortable, we literally or symbolically failed to share
that one cold cup of water with either one of our fellow Christians or with
someone who comes to us seeking Christ.
Amen.