Summary: In the gospel reading for today, Jesus seems to be preparing his recently appointed disciples for both the brickbats and bouquets that await them. His words are a kindly reality check. Preaching a Gospel of repentance will not always be perceived as a welcoming Gospel. The disciples will not always be feted with parades and applause, nor will they be free from hostility and pushback. No doubt a mix of cheers and jeers will be the norm. Perhaps you, too, have felt the sting of that opprobrium when your commitment to Jesus and his values came to light.
In the fall of September 1921, about 105 years ago, Damon Runyon, award-winning journalist, sportswriter and avid New Yorker, attended a Yankees game and watched Ty Cobb come to the plate. Later, he wrote, "The Jewel of Georgia [Cobb] got the old familiar Bronx cheer when he came to bat for the first time in the first inning. Tyrus would probably be sadly disappointed were he not so greeted in New York."
As far as we know, this comment in the New York American, September 21, 1921, is the first recorded mention of the "Bronx cheer."1 Today, it is not uncommon for a visiting baseball, football or basketball team to be booed when introduced to the home crowd. Or one particular person may be singled out for verbal abuse -- perhaps a former player who jilted the home team and left town after being wooed by a suitor from a rival city.
In the gospel reading for today, Jesus seems to be preparing his recently appointed disciples for both the brickbats and bouquets that await them. His words are a kindly reality check. Preaching a gospel of repentance will not always be perceived as a welcoming gospel. The disciples will not always be feted with parades and applause, nor will they be free from hostility and pushback. No doubt a mix of cheers and jeers will be the norm. Perhaps you, too, have felt the sting of that opprobrium when your commitment to Jesus and his values came to light. So, let's quickly review how we got to the text before us and then explore how scripture can help us develop a "gospel of welcome" -- which is another way of saying a "gospel of good news."
Matthew 10 is a pivotal chapter in the story of Jesus' earthly ministry. The newly called disciples cannot assume they will be welcomed enthusiastically. "If anyone will not welcome you or listen to your words," he says, "shake off the dust from your feet as you leave that house or town."2 In other words, rejection will be a common response.
The downside is real, Jesus admits. But there is an upside. "Those who lose their life for my sake will find it."3 A life laid down for Christ will be raised up in Christ.
After warning the disciples about possible difficulties, we might expect Matthew 10 to end on a somber note. But instead, the chapter closes with a surprising word of encouragement -- the text before us today: "Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me," Jesus says, as he begins to bring his instructional words to a close (emphasis added).
The tone shifts. Yes, disciples will constantly confront a cultural atmosphere of rejection, hostility and persecution. But they will also encounter hospitality, welcome and kindness. The world may be hostile, but not everyone is an enemy. Along the way there will be moments of welcome: open doors, open hearts and open hands.
Jesus ends the commissioning discourse not with another warning but with a promise: their mission will be met with more than hatred. There will be welcome. And that welcome is a matter of eternal importance.
Bearing the presence of ChristThe first thing Jesus says is striking: "Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me."
This is breathtaking dignity for the disciples. They're not merely messengers carrying information. They are bearers of the divine presence. To welcome them is to welcome Christ himself. And to welcome Christ is to welcome the Father.
Think of what that means for ordinary disciples -- for fishermen, tax collectors and zealots. Wherever they go, however poorly they may speak, however unimpressive they may seem, they carry the very presence of Christ with them. Their lives are living sacraments: visible signs of the invisible Lord.
It means that the mission is never just about the messenger. It is about the One the messenger embodies. Hospitality extended to the least impressive disciple is, in fact, hospitality extended to Christ himself.
Jesus goes further: "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."
In the ancient world, prophets often faced rejection. Elijah was pursued. Jeremiah was beaten and imprisoned. Yet those who welcomed a prophet, who gave shelter or protection, shared in the prophet's blessing. By supporting the mission, they became participants in it.
The same holds true for the righteous -- those who live faithfully before God. Those who welcome and support them share in their reward.
This is an astounding promise. The mission is not only for the sent ones; it's also for those who welcome the sent ones. Participation in the kingdom is not limited to apostles or prophets. Anyone who receives them, supports them or encourages them becomes part of the mission and part of the blessing.
Then comes the climax: "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."
Notice how seemingly ordinary this is. A cup of cold water. Not a feast. Not a house. Not a large sum of money. Just a cup of cold water. But when Jesus spoke of giving "a cup of cold water," he wasn't talking about something ordinary at all. Giving someone a cup of water would have been pleasantly hospitable. But Jesus adds the word "cold" in his remarks.
It's a significant addition. In his day, cold water was rare. If your host gives you a cup of cold water, it means she made a fresh trip to the well, hauling back heavy jars, all so a guest could have a cool drink late in the day. It was refreshing, it was costly, it took effort and it was healthier than water that had become tepid.
And notice to whom it is given: "one of these little ones." Scholars debate whether "little ones" refers to children, to humble disciples or simply to the vulnerable. Whatever the nuance, the point is the same: the smallest act of compassion toward the least significant among us is precious in God's eyes.
In a chapter filled with persecution, hostility and family division, the final word is about welcome, hospitality and generosity. The kingdom doesn't move forward only through great sermons or grand gestures. It also advances through small, simple acts of kindness: a door opened, a meal shared, a hand extended, a cup of water offered.
How might we take this to heart today? Here are some thoughts to consider.
First, being a follower of Jesus will never be easy. A secular culture is inherently hostile to that which is sacred and spiritual. The two spheres are no more compatible than oil and water, cats and dogs, Taylor Swift and Kanye West. Polar opposites, completely antithetical. It's the way it is. Making our way through the world as committed believers isn't for the faint of heart.
Second, rejection is not the whole story. Along the way, there will be people who welcome us, people who are ready for change, people who will welcome those who show an interest in them. We should prepare for hostility but be ready to receive welcome and gratitude.
Then, too, we need to remember that we carry Christ's presence into the world. To welcome us is to welcome him. That means our lives are not trivial. Even when we feel small or unimpressive, we bear Christ with us. Every knock on a neighbor's door, every visit to the sick, every word spoken in kindness is charged with divine presence.
Fourth, let's not undervalue the ministry of small things. It's quite natural to value and celebrate the big and spectacular. But Jesus elevates the small and ordinary. This is profoundly encouraging. Not all of us can preach like prophets. But all of us can offer kindness, share hospitality and live faithfully.
Finally, we can regard hospitality as a mission. Being a welcoming and hospitable person is who we are as Christians. Saint John Chrysostom, considered by some to be that most powerful preacher in the history of the church, wrote, "If you cannot find Christ in the beggar at the church door, you will not find him in the chalice."4 This is why the physical edifice known as a church has traditionally been regarded in practice and law as a space of "sanctuary." A church remains a symbol of welcome and refuge -- whether for immigrants, the homeless or anyone seeking mercy -- because it reflects the heart of God's love for the world.5
The very concept of sanctuary embodies the message of today's reading from Matthew's gospel. These verses emphasize a gospel of welcome. And if we can't wrap our heads around this, we're going to have a difficult time keeping pace with the expectations that God through Jesus has for us.