Receiving Whom? Homily for the 13th Sunday of Ordinary Time

13th Sunday of Ordinary Time, A                                                                               July 2, 2023
Fr. Alexander Albert                                                              St. John the Evangelist, Jeanerette

“Whoever receives you receives me.” Just this past week, I was at the anniversary Mass of a couple celebrating 20 years of marriage. That’s not terribly unusual, the Church provides special prayers for such moments and there’s always a few couples in every parish who will take advantage of such an offer. What was unusual about this one, however, was that it was celebrated by 3 priests. As the main celebrant – not me – pointed out, the reason for that was simple: their home was not just a refuge to themselves and their children, but to those priests who were present. They had made a habit of “receiving” men of God into their home because they were men of God.

Last time we heard this Gospel, I told you about my grandparents taking care of Fr. Tim, a retired Sri Lankan priest. Fr. Tim wasn’t the only man of God they had welcomed. Upon sorting through my grandmother’s contact list to find a priest to visit her – I was still just a seminarian – I was pleasantly surprised to find almost half of my seminary professors listed in her book. When her funeral came, there were multiple priests there and more who visited at different parts of the process. She knew well and was well known by many priests because she had a habit of “receiving” them into her home and life. She was also pretty good at getting them to do things, too, kinda like Mary with Jesus.

I want to be clear that it’s not possible for every Catholic to befriend multiple priests or have them over all the time. The sheer number of laity vs the limited number of priests makes that clear. Then there’s circumstances like language, culture, and resources that might make such acts of hospitality impossible. So, my point here is not that you should become what we call a “priest collector,” who makes it a goal to claim a bunch of priests as their friend. That turns into a form of objectification that turns us into trophies rather than seeing us as people.

To some extent, such friendships have to be organic, developing from sincere responses to chance encounters. Jesus ministered to thousands – he died for the salvation of everyone – but while on earth, he really only had a dozen men and a handful of women who were his close friends. It’s a simple reality that each pastor only forms lasting friendships with a few of his parishioners, if any. Such friendships shouldn’t prevent him from fully caring for the needs of each of his people, whether or not they are close friends. I am grateful to those of you who have come to know me not just as your pastor, but as your friend, but I love all of you and try to serve you faithfully. The Sisters of the Heart of Jesus, overwhelmed with gratitude, have also spoken highly of the ways you received them.

Really, the point of this homily isn’t about being kind to priests and nuns. That’s just the easy example of what Jesus is talking about in receiving a “prophet” or “righteous man.” The point of these stories is not the outcome, but the disposition, the habits that made them possible. It is the virtue that will be rewarded, not the statistics.

So, my question to you is this: are you willing to receive a prophet… a righteous man or woman because they are righteous? Even if you don’t have me over for dinner – I hope you’re willing to try – but even if you don’t, are you willing to receive prophets and the righteous? Are you willing, like the “woman of influence” in the first reading, to spend time and money in service to the mission of those who serve the Gospel? I hope so, because Jesus is quite emphatic that there is a real reward for doing so. I can’t count the number of God’s blessings in my family’s life that are in some way connected to my grandparent’s eager reception of the holy ones in their midst.

There are missionaries who serve on college campuses that depend on donations, street preachers who could use as little as an open door, a warm smile, and a kind chat. Our door-to-door ministry, small as it is, often gets no answer and sometimes gets sent away. But ask them about those moments when a neighbor, Catholic or not, parishioner of St. John’s or not, welcomed them in. Ask them how those occurrences make all the rest worth it. A little hospitality doesn’t just help the person you welcome, it strengthens them to continue the work of bringing the gospel to others.

And that hospitality also works in a broader sense. We are members of a community. Those who live here – those who are connected and comfortable – they do a great kindness when they make the effort to welcome newcomers to our town. Many people who move here do indeed have a spark of faith, a small, but real desire to build up God’s kingdom that will likely be extinguished if it’s not soon met with welcome. Do you welcome them? Offer them a drink of water, literally or metaphorically? Almost every Catholic should do door-to-door ministry at least once in their life to strengthen their appreciation for hospitality and to take up the cross of resisting their own complacency… to knock on doors so as to better hear God knocking on your heart.

Next weekend, a missionary preacher will be here to ask your help in caring for the poor. I urge you to receive him with great hospitality and kindness. I urge you to be attentive to his preaching, allowing that to show on your faces so that he can experience himself being received and so be strengthened in his efforts. And yes, please do be generous with the appeal he makes, taking home the pamphlets and envelopes he makes available. There are few things more discouraging than going somewhere to preach and offer materials only to see stony faces and crumpled up papers on the floor afterwards.

In my short time here as pastor, I’ve sometimes felt completely isolated and I’ve sometimes felt genuinely received. I’ve had people tell me that our parish is not welcoming and they felt rejected, but I’ve also had people say they felt so welcome they wanted to stay with us. How has your presence, your efforts contributed to one of those experiences? What are you willing to do about it? Because if you’re not willing to receive the servant of God you can see, if you’re not willing to care for the child of God you can see, what makes you think you’re equipped to receive the God you can’t see? If you don’t receive fellow believers with love, then are you really benefitting from receiving the Eucharist?