‘Whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me’ (Matthew 10: 40) … a welcome sign at Athens Airport (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)
Patrick Comerford
Next Sunday, 28 June 2020, is the Third Sunday after Trinity (Trinity III).
The readings in the Revised Common Lectionary, as adapted for use in the Church of Ireland, are in two sets, the Continuous Readings and the Paired Readings:
The Continuous Readings: Genesis 22: 1-14; Psalm 13; Romans 6: 12-23; Matthew 10: 40-42.
There is a link to the continuous readings HERE.
The Paired Readings: Jeremiah 28: 5-9; Psalm 89: 1-4, 15-18; Romans 6: 12-23; Matthew 10: 40-42.
There is a link to the paired readings HERE.
A welcome sign in a church porch in Malahide, Co Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)
Introducing the Readings:
The word welcome is used six times in the three short verses in this Gospel reading.
The Greek verb δέχομαι (déchoma-ee), which is used here, means to take by the hand, to receive, to grant access to, a visitor, to receive with hospitality, to receive into one. It can refer to a way of responding generously to something said, to respond positively to teaching or instruction, to receive favourably, to embrace or to make one’s own home.
Irish people like to think of Ireland as the land of a hundred thousand welcomes. English people have always put a high value on hospitality – although I fear ‘post-Brexit’ Britain raises questions about whether hospitality is widely cherished as an English value today.
But our concepts of welcome and hospitality come nowhere close to the way these values are expressed by Greeks. In the village in Crete where I have stayed regularly for five years, the baker welcomes me back as I am buying bread for breakfast, wanting not only to assure me that he remembers me year-by-year but to be assured that I remember him too. In the newsagents, I am asked how long I am there for ‘this time’ – it not only conveys the memory that I have been there before but contains the hope that I would be here many more times too.
The Greek concept of welcome implies that the stranger is becoming a neighbour, a friend. It is not a tourist marketing ploy. It is not a cheap expression of gratitude for return business. It is simply a part of the Greek nature and culture to welcome the stranger or the foreigner. And the Greeks have another word for it – φιλοξενία (philoxenia).
In classical Greece, hospitality was a right, and a host was expected to see to the needs of the guests. The ancient Greek term xenia, or theoxenia, expresses this ritualised guest-friendship relation: welcoming the guest is welcoming a god. In classical Greece, someone’s ability to abide by the laws of hospitality determined nobility and social standing.
The Stoics regarded hospitality as a duty inspired by Zeus himself. The word φιλοξενία (philoxenia), from φῐ́λος (phílos), a loved one who is more than a ‘friend,’ and ξένος (xénos), a ‘stranger’ or ‘outsider,’ is used by Plato, Polybius, Philo of Alexandria and others to express the warmth properly shown to strangers, and the readiness to share hospitality or generosity by entertaining in one’s home.
It is a word that is used constantly in the epistles in the New Testament.
Saint Paul speaks of κοινωνοῦντες τὴν φιλοξενίαν διώκοντες (Romans 12: 13), or the importance of contributing to the needs of the saints – those inside the Church, and extending hospitality to strangers – those from outside who must be welcomed.
In Hebrews 13: 2, the author uses the phrase τῆς φιλοξενίας μὴ ἐπιλανθάνεσθε when saying, ‘Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.’
The concepts of to be hospitable (Φιλόξεον, philoxeon or φιλόξενος philoxenos), or to show hospitality (ξενοδοχέω, xenodocheo) occur too in I Timothy 3: 2; Titus 1: 8, I Peter 4: 9, and I Timothy 5: 10. For example: ‘she must be well attested for her good works, as one who has brought up children, shown hospitality (ἐξενοδόχησεν), washed the saints’ feet, helped the afflicted, and devoted herself to doing good in every way’ (I Timothy 5: 10).
One of the requirements of a bishop in the New Testament Church is to be ‘hospitable,’ to be welcoming to strangers (I Timothy 3: 2; Titus 1: 8).
But the NRSV translation shows its weaknesses in those passages. It is not enough to translate the words as hospitality or welcome; it is hospitality towards the stranger, it is welcoming the outsider, the stranger, the foreigner, the person who is different who comes among us. And in the list of priorities, care for others, for children and hospitality to the stranger come before looking after the needs of church members, described here are washing the saints’ feet.
The concept and the duty of philoxenia is in contrast to φιλία (philia), for it is easy to love those who are like us, from the same family or locality, and is in contrast to xenophobia, the fear of the stranger or the other, which is both unfounded and obsessive – and which has grown in Greece in recent decades and found expression in disgusting far-right groups.
The Christian virtue of philoxenia has its roots in the injunctions to hospitality in Leviticus 19: 18 and 34. We are not just to love our neighbours as ourselves, but: ‘The alien who resides with you shall be to you as the citizen among you; you shall love the alien as yourself, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God.’
Despite what is being said in the current debate dividing Anglicanism and many other Christian traditions, the sin of Sodom (see Genesis 19) was to refuse to welcome the stranger. The Babylonian Talmud, Sanhedrin 109, makes it clear. For 1,700 years after the destruction of Sodom, ancient Jews linked the destruction of Sodom to the refusal of hospitality, not to homosexuality.
What we often call ‘hospitality’ is really entertaining, and typically we offer it to friends who will reciprocate by inviting us back. Hospitality to strangers is not entertaining friends or neighbours. Philoxenia is much more than that. Philoxenia turns on its head xenophobia and any other irrational attitude to those who are different, those who are strangers, those who come from the outside.
And Christ reminds the disciples in this Gospel reading that whoever welcomes them welcomes him. And that welcome begins not in the large gestures, such as accepting a whole, complex set of dogmatic statements and teachings, but in small, gentle gestures, such as offering a cup of water to those who are thirsty.
What are the limits or bounds to our welcomes, our hospitality, our openness to others who are different or who are outsiders?
Abraham preparing for the sacrifice of Isaac … a stained glass window in Saint John’s Church, Wall, near Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)
Genesis 22: 1-14:
The near-sacrifice of Isaac, or the Akedah as it is called in the Jewish tradition, is a story that probably asks more questions than it answers.
Each time we hear it, I imagine we listen in horror as Abraham seems to be preparing to sacrifice his only son. And the story comes with all the gruesome details, as Abraham climbs the mountain, builds the altar, arranges the wood, binds his son, places him on the altar, and takes the knife into his hand. The looming tragedy is averted only at the very moment second.
It is a gripping, chilling and troubling story.
But at a time when child-sacrifice was a cultural norm, where people believed that sacrificing their first-born children was a way of appeasing the gods, this story turns those old superstitions on their head. Abraham knows the old ways.
But his relationship with God is a startling new relationship, founded on love. And this God is different from all the so-called gods. No, he does not demand human sacrifice, no he does not have a mean and violent streak.
Instead, this God that Abraham has begun getting to know, wants a relationship with us that is built not on fear, but on love and on freedom.
The child who was at risk is saved, the child who was bound up is set free, the child who was the victim of old-fashioned, out-dated superstitions now becomes part of the relationship between God and humanity that is sealed not by sacrifices like this, but by love.
Had Abraham forgotten God’s earlier promise so soon, the promise made to Abraham and Sarah that they would have children and through them they would be the spiritual ancestors of all nations?
And it is a story that challenges us to reassess our own notions about God.
Are our relationships with God founded on fear or on love?
Do we see God as a god who needs to be appeased or a God who encourages and enlivens our capacity to love?
‘Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep the sleep of death’ (Psalm 13: 3) … a funeral stele in Kerameikos Cemetery in Athens (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Psalm 13:
Psalm 13 is often known in English by its opening words in the King James Version, ‘How long, O Lord.’ The words ‘How long?’ – repeated four times in this psalm – resemble cries.
Early Patristic sources suggest Psalm 13 was composed by David when his son Absalom conspired against him. The entire psalm is an appropriate prayer for the well-being of a sick person, according to the Chatam Sofer, one of the great rabbis of central Europe in the early 19th century. The Victorian preacher Charles Spurgeon described this as the ‘How Long Psalm’ – or the ‘Howling Psalm.’ Certainly, this psalm gives voice to feelings that arise in any of the many trials we may experience in life.
Both Jewish and Christian commentators note the three-part structure of Psalm 13, with verses 2-3 in the Hebrew (1-2 in the KJV) relating to David’s complaint, verses 4-5 in the Hebrew (3-4 in the KJV) expressing David’s prayer, and verse 6 in the Hebrew (5-6 in the KJV) describing David’s salvation.
The psalmist appears to be frustrated by waiting for God: four times he asks ‘how long …?’ When, he asks, will God care for him again and return to taking an interest in him? How long must his soul feel alienated from God? How long will his those who ignores God’s ways continue to insist that his trust in God is foolishness?
He prays for God’s help. He asks God to strengthen him and give him the will to continue living. The psalmist has trusted in God’s steadfast love and generosity. He hopes to thank God for saving him by singing God’s praises.
‘For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord’ (Romans 6: 23) … memorials and gravestones in Glasnevin Cemetery, Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Romans 6: 12-23:
The New Testament reading concludes with a sentence that I remember from my childhood as being popular with sandwich-board preachers handing out tracts and and street evangelists: ‘The wages of sin is death…’ But they often forget, perhaps on purpose, to quote the full verse, with its promise: ‘For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord’ (Romans 6: 23).
In this reading from the Letter to the Romans, Saint Paul challenges us to consider the same differences we discussed in light of the reading from the Book Genesis.
Do we believe in a god who would treat us as slaves who must obey, or the God who sees us as faithful partners who are caught up in his love?
Once again, we are offered a choice between death and life, between slavery and freedom, between blind obedience and love.
Saint Paul has told his readers that baptism has changed their way of being from one in which God responded to their continual contravention of the Law by loving them more to one in which sin is no more. But freedom from sin still means they can be tempted. We need to take care to avoid using any parts or functions or our minds or bodies to advance the cause of evil. At the end of time, sin will not be our master. Instead, because of our Baptism, we can depend on God’s free gift of love. We are free, but not free to behave as we like.
‘Whoever welcomes a righteous person in the name of a righteous person will receive the reward of the righteous’ (Matthew 10: 41) … a welcome at a front door in Rethymnon on the Greek island of Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Matthew 10: 40-42:
We are given practical examples of how this life of love and freedom are lived out in our Gospel reading, when Christ tells us that whatever we do for those who are in need, it is as though we do it for him.
It is in serving others and in loving others that we find freedom and a true relationship with God.
This reading is part of Christ’s final instructions to his disciples as he prepares them to continue his mission. Earlier he has told them that being his followers will, at times, be difficult, and that they will be persecuted. Now he tells them the nature of the authority they will have, and will hand on to future disciples.
At the time, someone’s agent was to be treated the same as the person they were acting on behalf of. Christ goes beyond this: to welcome a disciple is to welcome both Christ and the Father.
Prophecy (verse 41) continues into the era of the risen Christ. If one ‘welcomes a prophet,’ recognising his office and his authenticity, his good ‘name,’ one will ‘receive a prophet’s reward,’ in other words, a place in the Kingdom. When one welcomes a ‘righteous person’ or a follower of Christ, will be rewarded. Even the smallest act of human kindness that costs little or nothing may mean the difference between life and death for the person on the receiving end, and will not go unnoticed in God’s eyes, will not go without reward.’
‘Whoever welcomes you welcomes me’ (Matthew 10: 40) … a welcome sign at Etz Hayyim Synagogue in Chania on the Greek island of Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Matthew 10: 40-42 (NRSVA):
[Jesus said:] 40 ‘Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. 41 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; 42 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.’
40 Ὁ δεχόμενος ὑμᾶς ἐμὲ δέχεται, καὶ ὁ ἐμὲ δεχόμενος δέχεται τὸν ἀποστείλαντά με. 41 ὁ δεχόμενος προφήτην εἰς ὄνομα προφήτου μισθὸν προφήτου λήμψεται, καὶ ὁ δεχόμενος δίκαιον εἰς ὄνομα δικαίου μισθὸν δικαίου λήμψεται. 42 καὶ ὃς ἂν ποτίσῃ ἕνα τῶν μικρῶν τούτων ποτήριον ψυχροῦ μόνον εἰς ὄνομα μαθητοῦ, ἀμὴν λέγω ὑμῖν, οὐ μὴ ἀπολέσῃ τὸν μισθὸν αὐτοῦ.
‘Welcome, No Exit’ … ‘Welcome, Way Out’ … signs at Cambridge Railway Station (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Liturgical resources:
Liturgical colour: Green (Ordinary Times, Year A)
The Collect of the Day:
Almighty God,
you have broken the tyranny of sin
and have sent the Spirit of your Son into our hearts
whereby we call you Father:
Give us grace to dedicate our freedom to your service,
that we and all creation may be brought
to the glorious liberty of the children of God;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
The Collect of the Word:
O God,
who has taught us
that those who give a cup of water in his name
will not lose their reward:
open our hearts to the needs of your children,
and in all things make us obedient to your will,
so that in faith we may receive your gracious gift,
eternal life in Jesus Christ our Lord.
The Post-Communion Prayer:
O God,
whose beauty is beyond our imagining
and whose power we cannot comprehend:
Give us a glimpse of your glory on earth
but shield us from knowing more than we can bear
until we may look upon you without fear;
through Jesus Christ our Saviour.
‘Whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple …’ (Matthew 10: 42) … a café in Ashford, Co Wicklow (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Suggested Hymns:
Genesis 22: 1-14:
13, God moves in a mysterious way
59, New every morning is the love
601, Teach me, my God and King
323, The God of Abraham praise
Psalm 13:
528, The Church’s one foundation
Jeremiah 28: 5-9:
381, God has spoken – by his prophets
Psalm 89: 1-4, 15-18:
80, Great is thy faithfulness, O God my Father
32, O Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder
490, The Spirit lives to set us free
374, When all thy mercies, O my God
Romans 6: 12-23:
642, Amazing grace (how sweet the sound!)
400, And now, O Father, mindful of the love
87, Christ is the world’s light, he and none other
703, Now lives the Lamb of God
638, O for a heart to praise my God
594, O Lord of creation, to you be all praise!
597, Take my life and let it be
492, Ye servants of God, your master proclaim
Matthew 10: 40-42:
517, Brother, sister, let me serve you
495, Jesu, Jesu, fill us with your love
‘O God, whose beauty is beyond our imagining and whose power we cannot comprehend: Give us a glimpse of your glory on earth’ (Post-Communion Prayer) … a blanket of flowers beneath trees in a garden in Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible: Anglicised Edition copyright © 1989, 1995, National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. http://nrsvbibles.org
The hymns suggestions are provided in Sing to the Word (2000), edited by Bishop Edward Darling. The hymn numbers refer to the Church of Ireland’s Church Hymnal (5th edition, Oxford: OUP, 2000)
Material from the Book of Common Prayer is copyright © 2004, Representative Body of the Church of Ireland.
‘Christ is the world’s light, he and none other’ (Hymn 87) … a summer sunset at the Rectory in Askeaton, Co Limerick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)
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