Cold Water

Reverend Philip Stringer

Matthew 10:40-42

LET US PRAY: You, O Lord, are the author of life. Speak to our hearts and fill us with the breath of your Spirit, that we may live and move in your ways, all the days of our lives. AMEN

I don’t remember all of the details. But I remember the details that matter.

The five of us — my parents, my brother and sister and myself — were on our way home from a visit with my grandparents. We lived in northern Indiana and my grandparents were in the bottom half of Florida, so the trip was about 1,100 miles. My dad often drove it straight through.

My map app tells me that it is a 17 hour trip — but that is on modern roadways and with cruise control without any stops — so the trip was actually more than 24 hours.

On this particular trip we got as far as Kentucky — and there was some sort of natural disaster — probably flooding because I remember it was raining. It was nighttime in a rural, mountainous area and we were stranded.

And then there was a man — he was part of the area civil defense and he was also the pastor of a small church. He let us into the church — and we slept on the floor of the sanctuary that night.

And a few more details I remember:

1. Their church was not like our church. Behind and above the pulpit were curtains — and behind the curtain was a pool for emersion baptisms.

2. After he let us in, the pastor didn’t stay to keep watch on us; he trusted us to not steal anything or damage anything.

Have you ever been on the receiving end of someone’s unexpected hospitality? A moment when you were vulnerable and someone went out of their way to make you safe?

In our gospel reading for today — just three short verses — we are given a window into the way of life God intends for us — not only as instruction for how we are to treat one another, but also a reflection of how God treats us. It is a way of life that Jesus sums up in a simple image of a cup of cold water given to someone with no perceivable value.

I have been thinking about Jesus’ choice of words, because they convey a meaning that goes beyond the mere social observations of the day. And I have been thinking about some of the Supreme Court rulings from this past week — rulings that stand in contrast to our nation’s history of welcoming the most vulnerable of the world. It seems to me that by unpacking the simple image that Jesus uses with his disciples, we are shown some deeply profound truths regarding the way that God welcomes us, and how God intends for us to welcome others.

A cup of cold water. Why do you suppose Jesus used this image? And why a cup of COLD water? Why is Jesus so specific?

There is a “law of the desert” that is uniformly observed throughout the Arab world, that’s origins are lost — but it has been practiced for thousands of years. The desert is a deadly place — a deserted place — a place devoid of most of the things we require to survive — shelter, food, and most critically, water. Deserts can be cold or hot — but the one thing they have in common is that they lack water. In the Arab peninsula and the surrounding region, vast stretches of desert make traveling dangerous. And for this reason, the Law of the Desert is essential — it is simply this: That you show hospitality to a traveler — any traveler.

When a stranger comes to your door, you open it and provide them with shelter and food and water. Period.

So, it would have been an easily understood image and expectation that Jesus used with his disciples. But there is one word that stands out in his image. It isn’t just a cup of water; it’s a cup of COLD water.

In Palestine, people will go to the well in the morning to draw their water for the day, before the heat makes the work more difficult. The desert is hot, so water kept in a jug will be hot, too.

But cold water is freshly drawn from the well. For someone to give a cup of cold water means:

a. They put themselves in the shoes of the other, knowing that cold water will be enjoyable in addition to necessary.

b. They arenʼt being given leftovers, but “first fruits” portion.

c. The host is going out of their way — making an extra trip to the well to be sure their guest has the best they can offer.

All of this reaches beyond the “law” of hospitality. It reflects a heart that truly cares about the other as a human being — it shows a unity of hearts; Respect and dignity for the other.

Typically, the only people to draw water later in the day are the marginalized — social outcasts, etc. (like the Samaritan woman). They have to wait until the powerful are finished. To take a trip to the well in the middle of the day would be embarrassing to someone with social standing — not to mention unpleasant for someone who turns their nose up at the lower classes.

Going to draw water for the one you are serving means you set your own pride and arrogance aside for the sake of the other. Love and compassion overrule pride and reputation. It says, “I care more about the other than I do about my own comfort, about social standing, and what the gossipers will say.” It also means that the host is willing to be associated with the outcasts.

A cup of cold water comes from someone who throws their whole heart and effort into caring for the other

This is a simple but profound imaging of how Jesus wants each of us to interact with others — friends, strangers and enemies, alike.

We like to read the passage as directed to us — as if Jesus is speaking to us about how we should be welcomed — as welcomEES. “Whoever welcomes you…” But it seems to me — especially in these times — we should spend more time thinking about these words as describing how we should treat others — how we should behave as welcomERS.

Paul once wrote, “we proclaim to you what we have first received.” And it seems to me that if we are to truly understand the depth of our gospel reading today, we must first remember what we have received. We must remember how God has welcomed us.

There is another way to approach this: How does God treat us? If we imitate God, we will be welcoming people.

Welcoming is giving. Sacrificing. It is giving up — risk taking out of love for the other. That, after all, is how God has welcomed us, is it not?

God did not use God’s power against us, even when we were the enemies of God. Instead, God welcomed us — made himself vulnerable to us, out of his great love for us. And when we betrayed that trust and crucified him — still, the power of God’s love overcame, and welcomed us into the Easter life of Christ.

That welcome has come to you through your baptism into Christ — and continues with each trip to the Lord’s table. The welcome of God comes to you in God’s ongoing faithfulness to you. It is God’s hospitality of grace that is continually lavished upon us.

As emissaries of God, we are to be imitators of God. God does not order us to coldly adhere out of obligation to a law of hospitality. Jesus invites us into a new way of meeting one another — friends, strangers and enemies alike — His invitation is that we give in response to God’s love for us. He invites us to a life characterized with giving and receiving as an expression of love. We welcome others and are welcomed as others. To receive from the other is part of loving the other.

When I served with Lutheran Family Services here in the Triad, much of our ministry revolved around settling refugees from around the world. These refugees, by the way, were people that our government had taken the initiative to accept. After they had been screened and approved by the government, the State Department contracted with LIRS to get them settled and integrated into our country.

Two stages — and I have a memory to share with you related to each of these stages — memories that reflect the character of our nation that is ignored by the Supreme Court decisions.

FIRST — the Government process of accepting — selecting and screening refugees: IVORY comment.

SECOND — VIETNAM refugees from the ’70’s, and my Dad’s answer to my question.

REAL welcoming goes far beyond the surface gestures of being polite. REAL welcoming is an honoring of who these people are and honoring the gifts that they bring. Welcoming is more than housing and feeding. It is making room for others in our hearts — and in the future that we dream of. Giving water to a thirsty traveler is charity. Giving COLD water, means changing the way we do things, and seeing ourselves as incomplete without them. THAT is welcoming.

Here is a mystery: when we welcome someone, God meets us in them — God is welcoming us when we welcome others. The “reward” isn’t something extrinsic; it isn’t something earned that is apart from the act of welcoming. The reward is the encounter, itself. The proof isn’t IN the pudding; it is the pudding, itself!

AMEN