In a sense
this is one of those obvious things that we have heard so often and that comes
through the Biblical account in so many places.
The law in the Old Testament urges on us the care of those who will
otherwise struggle. Jesus, in one of the
most famous of the parables, that which we usually refer to as the good
Samaritan, encourages us to love our neighbour.
Yet, if we
are honest, it, too often, remains as something that we find challenging. We don’t mind loving nice neighbours. We don’t mind loving those who do things the
same way that we do. We don’t mind
loving those who are our kind of people.
But Jesus doesn’t allow us to put on those kinds of restriction. As one commentator[1]
says: “Sometimes love is met with crucifixion; yet we are called to love in the
midst of hate – even in those times where it appears that hatred has won.”
So one of
the main things to draw from this verse, perhaps the main thing is that we are to be a welcoming people. We are to be people of hospitality. We could even go further and say that we are
called to be people who offer compassionate hospitality.
But then,
and I find this a little bit surprising, and so interesting, Matthew goes on to
say something about the rewards we will get for doing this – whoever
welcomes a prophet in the name of a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward .. etc..
We all like rewards, don’t we? Gold stars on our school papers as
children. Praise from parents and
teachers as we get older. Perhaps a medal
or a plaque or a certificate if we do something special. We all appreciate recognition.
But why
does Jesus offer this prospect of rewards in this context? That’s an interesting question – but perhaps
it is the wrong question? Perhaps the
important question is rather about just what Jesus means? Is it that the kind of reward to which he is
referring is something like getting a special certificate – or even like
getting a bonus with our pay? Or is it
just possibly the case that Jesus wants to remind us that living the right way,
living a life of compassionate hospitality, being a welcoming person, carries
rewards within itself.[2]
Thomas
Merton, the American Catholic and mystic, said this: “Love seeks one thing
only: the good of the one loved. It
leaves all the other secondary effects to take care of themselves. Love, therefore, is its own reward.” And a minister and writer called Hugh Prather
similarly said: “To live for results would be to sentence myself to continuous
frustration. My only sure reward is in
my actions and not from them.”
If we are
in the right place, if we are doing the right thing, then that in itself will
provoke a sufficient feeling of wellbeing as to be its own reward. Let’s look at it another way.
In Matthew
19:27 Peter says to Jesus: Look, we have left everything and followed
you. What then will we have? It is the kind of question that any disciple
in any situation might ask. What am I
learning? What does it mean to me and
for me to be a disciple? Although in
terms of Matthew’s written Gospel this question comes in a later chapter, the words
that we have quoted from Matthew 10, and indeed much of what is in chapter 10,
answers such a question. In this chapter
Jesus says lots of things that help the disciples to understand something of
what is involved in their discipleship.
Essentially Jesus is saying that God values us and our contribution –
and surely that is reward enough. Earlier
in the chapter, and particularly towards the beginning, Jesus has talked about
various possibilities for discipleship, some of which will have seemed quite
challenging to some of the people. But in
the final three verses of this chapter is a reminder that discipleship is for
all, and that there is a role for each one of us. Here is a description of something we can all
do, welcoming people, even if it is just offering a cup of cold water, more
likely a cup of tea in our terms.
And when we
welcome as we should, who knows what will happen, what we will discover? A widow in Zarephath offered to share her
last tiny bit of food and discovered she was sharing it with God’s
prophet. A little boy gave his lunch to
Jesus and discovered he was sharing it with a crowd of five thousand. And two people arriving home at Emmaus
invited the stranger they had met on the road to stay only to discover, as
bread was broken, that they had walked the road with Jesus himself. As St. Francis reputedly said: “it is in
giving that we receive,”
[1]
Emilie Townes in ‘Feasting on the Word’
[2] Some
of this thinking was inspired by Alyce McKenzie’s ‘Edgy Exegesis’ which I
accessed via www.textweek.com The two quotes in the next paragraph are
re-quoted from there.
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