Cool

Matthew 10:40-42

[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 shall receive a prophet’s reward. Whoever welcomes a righteous person in the name of a righteous person shall receive the reward of the righteous. And whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones – truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward.”

---

I always feel like we need to put this bit of Matthew’s Gospel into some context, just in case you haven’t been here for the last few weeks to here what Jesus has been up to.

Up to this point in the 10th Chapter of Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus has basically been laying out a job description for his disciples. And a lot of what they can expect isn’t pretty, to be honest. If you were here, you remember there was all of that stuff about not bringing peace, but a sword and about families being separated, one from another, because of their affinity for, or their call to follow Jesus. There were even some warnings about arrest, persecution, and death, too.

So it doesn’t sound like such a great gig, being one of those first disciples: Hitting the streets with the Word of God. Knocking on doors to share the Good News of the Kingdom. Preaching the Gospel. Healing the sick. Inviting themselves into the hearts and lives and homes of people … welcoming strangers into The Way of following Jesus, who may or may not want anything at all to do with what they were selling.

Which is where we end up today … at the end of this ministry plan … where it seems Jesus tries to wrap it all up on a high note, with some encouragement, some hope, some promised – if unidentified – “rewards” for doing this work, for accepting this mission, for living this life. Rewards for the disciples who welcome others into the fold AND rewards for those who welcome them as they do his bidding.

A Facebook friend of mine, someone I knew in junior high and high school, posted a picture on social media this week and it made me laugh. It was a hot pink Post-It -note – handed to her by her UBER driver – that said, “God has something special for you. God bless you always. Smile, God loves you. (Smiley Face) Happy day!!!”

My friend’s response, via Facebook, was “OMG I’m in hell. I mean, Indiana.”

It might help to know that my friend and I knew each other when we lived in the suburbs of Detroit, again when we were in Junior High and High School. She’s lived most of her adult life in California, as far as I can tell – San Francisco and Oakland. She’s always been an artist – drawing and painting – and she travels the world lecturing on things like Artificial Intelligence in the world of computers and technology that is utterly beyond me. (She does things in virtual reality like designing holograms and robots, for crying out loud.) She’s always been a free-spirit, a deep thinker, and a non-conformist, yada, yada, yada.

Which is why, I imagine, being back in the Midwest – and in “ruby red” Indiana, in particular – where presumptuous prayerful Post-It Notes that promise God’s blessings and proclaim God’s love to perfect strangers might as well be Mars – or feel like Hell – depending on your religious inclinations and if you’re a cynical skeptic, like my friend.

Which is why her reaction made me laugh. See, she’s reached out to me via social media over the years – knowing I’m a Pastor – to say how disillusioned she’s become with Christianity and the Church. She didn’t get into specifics, but I have a hunch she means the politics of the “Evangelical Religious Right” and their treatment of women, LGBTQ+ people, and immigrants, among other things. I can laugh at her reaction to that uninvited, presumptuous Post-It Note, because I don’t blame her one bit for her skeptical cynicism – based on all of that.

My friend’s experience alongside Jesus’ marching orders for his disciples this morning about welcoming and being welcomed by others made me think there might be something to “knowing your audience” and “checking your motivation” when it comes to sharing grace and good news with people out there in the world.

Too many Christians can be relentless about their evangelism, either because they really do love their neighbor, because they think it’s on them to convert and save the souls of their neighbors, or both. Which is to say their efforts may be as well-intended as they are misguided, if you ask me. Because the fact is not everyone believes in or wants to be blessed by a God – or told to smile because of a God – they don’t believe in – or that is different from the God they do believe in. And to be told such a thing by a stranger is presumptuous and cringey – if not offensive – to many people, like it or not.

The audacity of it negates or dismisses or fails to care about the recipient’s own faith – or lack of faith – with any measure of respect. It’s akin to demanding we put the 10 Commandments into public school classrooms or making Bible stories part of public school curriculum. It’s like wishing “Merry Christmas” to your Jewish neighbor or “Happy Hanukkah” to your Muslim co-worker.

I think the simple explanation for all of this is that too many Christians take for granted our privileged place in our culture. And we forget that Jesus was living in a culture very different from ours – where he and his followers WERE NOT practicing a faith that was privileged or popular in their neck of the woods. And I think Jesus is saying, today, that we can welcome others more kindly, more faithfully, more graciously, more humbly, more simply, and more practically even, because of that. It’s why he calls us to start with nothing more and nothing less than a cup of cold water.

Jesus uses this image and example of cool water, because it’s something with which his poor, peasant disciples – living on the road in the dust and the heat of Galilee – could relate. Water was a precious commodity in those days, and in that region, whether it was used for cooking or washing or to quench your thirst. Everyone needed it, wanted it and could find a use for it – no matter how much or how little of it you had to offer.

It’s why I think Jesus might be saying, “keep it simple stupid.” Sharing a cup of water is a simple way of encouraging his people to meet the needs of those in need; to meet people where they are; to graciously offer something practical and holy and to let the Holy Spirit of God’s grace do the rest.

So what constitutes a proverbial cup of cold water in our lives? What is it that you could share? What is it that others around you need? What is it – large or small – that could make a difference for someone in your circle? How can you … how can I … how might we … go about offering up these cold cups of water in welcoming ways that matter?

Maybe it’s handing over some cash, a gift card, or a bottle of cold water to the next beggar you pass on the street…

Maybe it’s sharing food by way of our food pantry that doesn’t ascribe to all the rules, road blocks, and requirements that some food ministries demand…

Maybe it’s opening your church up to kids who could use a little more time and practice their English or their reading during summer break…

Maybe, it’s free “Mom Hugs” at a Pride festival for a kid whose own parents refuse to let them back in the house, now that they’re out of the closet…

Maybe it’s mowing your elderly neighbor’s lawn … maybe it’s paying for some other kids’ school supplies in your own child’s classroom … maybe it’s a more generous tip for the server at your favorite restaurant… maybe it’s giving blood in the parking lot at Church on Sunday morning.

I think it’s doing any of the above – and whatever else moves you – quietly, compassionately, humbly, and trusting God’s grace to do whatever God’s grace will do with it.

And I think this, because my Facebook friend from high school, the one who was scandalized by the pink Post-It Note from her Indiana Uber driver – despite her disdain and disillusionment with Christians and the Church these days – has also acknowledged, and found hope, in some of what she’s seen me post and preach online – and in some of what she’s noticed we have going on around here. She’s told me it’s given her a different kind of perspective about the way Christians and the Church can be – in and for the sake of the world. When we get it right, we really do do it with no questions asked, no requirements, no obligations, no pressure, and no strings attached – and people notice and are moved by that.

There are cold cups of water in every one of our lives waiting to be shared with thirsty people all around us who are thirsty for something the world can’t give. May we learn to discern what that looks like and how we might share it generously … with humility and faith … until hearts and lives are changed for the better and until the rewards of the kingdom are poured out for all people, and for the sake of the world.

Amen

Like Father, Like Son

Like Father, Like Son

Pastor Mark Havel

Matthew 10:24-39

“A disciple is not above the teacher, nor a slave above the master; it is enough for the disciple to be like the teacher, and the slave like the master. If they have called the master of the house Beelzebul, how much more will they malign those of his household!

“So have no fear of them; for nothing is covered up that will not be uncovered, and nothing secret that will not become known. What I say to you in the dark, tell in the light; and what you hear whispered, proclaim from the housetops.

“Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell. Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. And even the hairs of your head are all counted. So do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows.

“Everyone therefore who acknowledges me before others, I also will acknowledge before my Father in heaven; but whoever denies me before others, I also will deny before my Father in heaven.

“Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; and one’s foes will be members of one’s own household.

“Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”

---

My oldest son, Jackson, who is 22, spent a rainy morning with me on vacation in South Haven, Michigan, this past week, milling around a couple of antique stores there. (“Antique malls,” actually, is what the call them.) It has to be raining and/or vacation for me to do much resembling “antiquing,” but I was there for the nostalgia of seeing old toys from my childhood and whatever vinyl records I might find. Jack was there for the sports memorabilia and baseball cards. He scored a few of the latter and I found myself a pretty clean copy of Bruce Springsteen’s “Darkness on the Edge of Town.”

While we were looking through a treasure trove of old Sports Illustrated magazines – mostly from the 1970’s and 80’s – a stranger walked by, looked at Jack, then looked at me, then probably back at Jack, and declared, “Well that apple didn’t fall far from the tree, did it?” We both laughed and I told him we’d heard that before. To which he said, with awe, “It’s remarkable.” I don’t always think we look THAT MUCH alike, though many of you have said so, over the years. But when a stranger notices and feels compelled to call it out in public, I guess there’s no denying it.

And it’s always been a compliment to me – even if I can’t always see it – that I share a resemblance with either of my boys. But anyone who’s ever been 12 or 13 or 16 or 17 knows the LAST thing you’d count as a compliment is for someone to think you look like one of your parents.

You know, those times in childhood and adolescence when you can’t stand being seen with, let alone be seen as looking like, your mom or your dad. You know, those moments when kids stop holding mom’s hands at the store; when they cringe anytime dad makes conversation with their friends; or when they rush from the car in the school drop-off line as if the vehicle was on fire.

And all of this had me thinking about some of what I hear Jesus saying in this morning’s Gospel. Specifically, it made me think of what it means when Jesus talks about acknowledging or denying God, the Father, in our daily lives.

See, Jesus uses all sorts of images, illustrations and hyperbole today – and it’s okay … important … faithful … and a relief, actually, to recognize some of this as exaggeration and hyperbole. All of this talk about peace and swords, setting family members against one another, about not being worthy of Jesus, is nothing more and nothing less than naming the seriousness of our call to be disciples and followers of Christ in the world. So I don’t we need to take Jesus LITERALLY at every turn, this morning, as long as we take him SERIOUSLY. Because discipleship is a serious thing. It was in the days of the Jesus and it is meant to be, still. It calls for bold confession, faithful practice, and courageous action, more often than we’re always inclined.

And, remember, Jesus is talking to his first disciples today, knowing all sorts of persecutions and temptations are in store for them because of what he’s asking. When he talks about coming “not for peace, but with a sword,” he’s not doing away with his title as the Prince of Peace or with his command to love one another – AND our enemies. Jesus is saying that, too often, the kind of amazing, radical, counter-cultural, life-changing grace, mercy, and peace God offers is more than some people can handle. And that in order to really get it and to truly proclaim it and to faithfully share it means to surprise and to separate and to send people reeling from time to time.

(If you need proof of the kind of threat that sort of grace is to some people, you should see some of the hateful, frightening comments I hid from my Facebook feed after posting just a clip from my last sermon. Among other things, you should know, I’m an evil, demonic, blaspheming, false prophet who’s going straight to Hell – I deserve it – and I’m bringing all of you with me.)

All of this is to say, Jesus wants his people – his people – to be realistic about, and ready for, the consequences of what real, faithful, kingdom-living may lead to in our lives and in this world.

Because doing that well – living faithfully, I mean – is hard work. When you stand up for justice for the “least of these,” that often means challenging the systems that protect the powerful. When you speak truth to power, power doesn’t always like what you have to say. When you speak the truth, even in love, the response is often denial and fear and hatred of that very truth and of those who proclaim it.

And that kind of faithful living gets people like Martin Luther excommunicated. It gets people like Nelson Mandela thrown into jail, people like Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Martin Luther King, Jr., Renee Good, and Alex Pretti, killed. It gets women in some denominations thrown out of the pulpit. And, of course, all of it got Jesus, himself, crucified, too.

And those are some tough shoes to fill. I wonder how many of us have had the opportunity or would have the courage and the faith to live out our faith like some of these giants. So we do our denying on a smaller scale, don’t we? When we drive by the hungry person on the street corner… When we let the racist comment slide… When we laugh with the bullies or at the queer kids and the sexist jokes on the White House lawn... When we add our two cents to the gossip mill... When we vote with our self-interests, first.

So what are we to do with Jesus’ promise – or threat – when he says, “Everyone who acknowledges me before others, I also will acknowledge before my Father in heaven. And everyone who denies me before others, I will also deny before my father in heaven”?

What I hear him saying isn’t so much that those who deny Christ or fail at this call to faithful discipleship are doomed or damned for all eternity. It’s not that if we don’t live up to the high bar of King or Mandela or Bonhoeffer, we’re out of luck. Remember, he also promises that we hold more value than many sparrows, who, even though they fall, are never beyond the reach of God’s care.

What I hear Jesus acknowledging is that God – the Father of all creation – knows, like so many good parents know, what it feels like to have his children deny or be embarrassed by their likeness to their Creator: to drop his hand at the grocery store, you might say; or rush by with friends to avoid any awkward conversations; or to shrink down in the seat and hurry from the car hoping no one notices who’s in the driver’s seat.

What I hear Jesus saying to his disciples and to each of us, is that it’s time to grow up. He’s inviting us to embrace the claim of God, the Father, on our lives and to start living in the joy, responsibility, and challenge of that holy calling.

Just like it’s hard to pinpoint exactly when children begin distancing themselves from their annoying, embarrassing parents, it’s difficult to pinpoint a precise moment when they begin to turn around and to start re-building those more mature bridges of relationship, connection, respect, and admiration, too.

But, believe it or not, kids, it happens! There comes a time when the comparisons and resemblances to our parents seem pretty small in the grand scheme of things – and even beautiful and holy and remarkable, the more mature we get, if we’re lucky. I got a glimpse of it with Jackson last week in that antique store. And I hope my mom and dad have noticed it over the years, too.

And I hear Jesus calling our attention to that same reality when it comes to our relationship with God. He’s inviting us to embrace our call to discipleship, to look and act more and more like our maker – all the things an immature faith might fear and resist – because following Jesus puts everything into a different perspective.

It’s an invitation and a holy challenge, because Jesus knows that when we do it – when we let the call to discipleship change the way we live, what once seemed like work (stuff like generosity, gratitude and grace) will become a way of life. What once seemed beyond us (stuff like sacrifice, selflessness, and suffering, even) actually bears fruit for us and for others. What once seemed unbelievable (stuff like healing, wholeness, and real joy) will become Truth, with a capital T, for our lives. And what once seemed impossible (forgiveness, freedom and eternal life) will belong to us all.

Amen