The Fifth Sunday after Pentecost - Matthew 10:40-42 - The Rev. Colette Hammesfahr

 

June 28, 2026 - Matthew 10:40-42

“Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me” (Matthew 10:40).

Almost 1,500 years ago, a monk named Benedict of Nursia wrote what has become known as The Rule of St. Benedict. It was a guide for how a community of Christians should live together day after day. It covers everything from prayer and work to meals, caring for the sick, and welcoming visitors. Benedict believed that ordinary life was the place where people learned to love God. In Chapter 53 of the Rule, Benedict wrote about hospitality. In those days, travel was often on foot. Benedict knew that travelers always needed a place to rest, and most would arrive unexpectedly on a doorstep. Some were tired. Some were poor. Some were demanding. Some would stay only one night. Others would ask to stay longer. In his “rules,” Benedict instructed the monks that all guests who came to them were to be welcomed as Christ.

This is an amazing rule, isn’t it? Think about it… It wasn’t just the polite guests who were to be welcomed as Christ. It wasn’t just the generous guests who were to be welcomed as Christ. It was every guest. The poor, the demanding, the overbearing. Every time there was a knock on the door, the monks were expected to stop what they were doing, greet the person with respect, pray with them, feed them, wash their feet, and give them a place to rest. Why? Because they believed that by welcoming another person, they might be welcoming Christ himself.

In Benedictine communities, there’s a story about a rainy evening when a tired traveler knocked on the monastery door. The monk who answered knew it was time for evening prayers. There was still work to be done around the monastery. The traveler looked like he might be more trouble than he was worth. But Benedict’s Rule was clear. The traveler was welcomed in. He was given a meal. The monks washed his feet and gave him the best bed they had. The next morning, the traveler ate a meal, thanked them, and continued on his journey.

Later, one of the younger monks said out loud, “Do you think that traveler might actually have been Christ?” An older monk smiled at the younger monk and told him he had missed the point. It didn’t matter whether he was Christ or not. What matters is that we follow Jesus’s words and receive the man as if he were Christ.

 Today, Jesus continues teaching the twelve he has called and preparing them to be sent out to proclaim the kingdom of heaven, heal the sick, cleanse lepers, and cast out demons. They are being sent into villages to carry his message of compassion, healing, and peace. He also warns them that this mission will not be easy. They will be rejected by some, welcomed by others, persecuted, and misunderstood.

Then Jesus says, “Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.” Jesus is saying something very important. To receive them is to receive Christ, and through Christ, God. What Jesus is saying is, “My disciples represent me. They don’t simply carry my message; they carry my presence.” Think about what that means. Wherever the disciples go, Jesus goes. When they speak words of hope, Jesus is speaking words of hope. When they care for the sick, Jesus is caring for the sick. They are not acting on their own behalf. They are ambassadors of Christ. Through them, the invisible Christ becomes visible to the world around them.

The monks understood what Jesus had taught his disciples. They weren’t simply practicing good manners. They truly believed that every knock on the monastery door was an opportunity to receive Christ.

This is still our calling today. We often ask, “Where is Jesus in the world?” One answer is: wherever his people are faithfully living as his disciples. We are the hands that feed, the ears that listen, the voice that encourages, and the heart that forgives. Christ chooses to make himself known through ordinary people like us.

Every one of us is sent into the world in the same way – to embody Christ. We carry Christ into our homes, our workplaces, our neighborhoods, and everywhere else life takes us. Think about the people you’ll encounter this week. The cashier who has been standing on her feet for eight hours. The neighbor who has become increasingly lonely since losing a spouse. The coworker carrying burdens no one else knows about. The child who simply needs someone to notice them. We may be the only expression of Jesus’ kindness they encounter that day. This is how people experience our faith. They experience our faith through our patience, our compassion, our generosity, and our willingness to see them.

But this isn’t all Jesus is saying in his words. He is also telling the disciples and us that if others encounter Christ through us, then maybe we encounter Christ through others. Notice that Jesus doesn’t simply tell the disciples to deliver his message. He tells them that when people welcome them, they are welcoming him. Jesus identifies with ordinary people.

It’s expected that we will encounter Christ at church – in  prayer, scripture, worship, and at the altar. And we do. But Jesus reminds us that we also encounter him in ordinary encounters. Sometimes Christ comes to us in the very person we’d rather avoid. The one who asks too many questions. The person who interrupts our plans. The visitor who doesn’t know anyone. The family member who tries our patience. The stranger standing alone after church. If we rush past those moments, what may we be missing? Not just an opportunity to help someone else, but an opportunity to meet Christ himself.

The monks welcomed every guest as Christ because they believed Christ often comes disguised as ordinary people. The stranger. A visitor. The lonely person, the difficult person. The one who interrupts our plans. Imagine what we miss if we never embody Christ to the stranger. Even more, imagine what we miss if we never recognize Christ in the stranger, the difficult person, the lonely person, or the one who interrupts our plans.

Jesus isn’t talking about grand acts. He talks about a cup of cold water. “Welcoming a prophet, welcoming a righteous person, even giving a cup of cold water.” It’s not being a hero. It’s not dramatic moments. It’s through ordinary faithfulness. A simple kindness done because someone belongs to Christ.

This week, Christ may come to you wearing blue jeans instead of fine robes, and dirty, ragged boots instead of sandals. Christ may come through the visitor who sits alone in church. Christ may come through the cashier who needs patience instead of irritation. Christ may come through the neighbor who has become lonely. Christ may come through the person you least expect. And Christ will certainly go into the world through you.

So before you rush through another ordinary day, remember the old Benedictine monks. Every knock on the door was an opportunity to welcome Christ. Every interruption was a holy interruption.

Maybe every person we meet is an opportunity—not only to carry Christ into the world, but to discover that Christ has been waiting there for us all along. Amen.