4. Love is hospitable
(Mat 10:41-42 ESV) 41 “The one who receives a prophet because he is a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward, and the one who receives a righteous person because he is a righteous person will receive a righteous person’s reward. 42 And whoever gives one of these little ones even a cup of cold water because he is a disciple, truly, I say to you, he will by no means lose his reward.”
This commentary is from a sermon by Adam J. Copeland —
A cup of cold water, in Jesus day, would have been a rare treat. Early every morning, women went to the village well to draw water for the day. Coming from the bottom of a deep well, this water would be clear and cool. But just a few minutes in the hot Palestinian sun would melt even a block of ice.
So you might offer your dinner guest water, but not cold water. To serve cold water to a guest, someone from the house would need to run to the well, run home–which is tricky when carrying water–and hurry to offer the guest the cool water–quick, before it got hot.
In Jesus time, a glass of cool water would be a welcome treat.
Yet Jesus goes further. He says, “Whoever gives even a cup of cool water to one of these little ones” will receive their reward. Now in Jesus day “little ones” would have included children, but more as well: “little ones” are those of little standing in society, the unappreciated, the poor, prostitutes.
Offer that cool crisp thirst-quenching glass of water, Jesus says, even–no, especially–to those little ones of society. Hospitality extends to all; love does not play favorites.
To love as Jesus loved, we must be hospitable. Jesus ate with the rich and the poor, sinners and righteous. Jesus welcomed others in a way that defied the social conventions of the day, and he was reviled for it.
(Rom 12:13 ESV) Contribute to the needs of the saints and seek to show hospitality.
(Heb 13:1-2 ESV) Let brotherly love continue. 2 Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.
(1Pe 4:9 ESV) 9 Show hospitality to one another without grumbling.
The early church met in homes. Most early converts were from among the slaves and poor, and therefore most homes were small. And that’s where they met. It wasn’t legal to own a meetinghouse. It’s not surprising that the New Testament has so many commands to be hospitable!
Notice that Paul instructs in Rom 12:13: “seek to show hospitality.” The command is not merely to have people over, but to want to do this — to ask to do this. Grumbling is not allowed (1 Pe 4:9); we must want to open our homes to others — even to strangers (Heb 13:1-2).
Now, in modern church practice, the equivalent command is “host small groups.” Really. Of course, most churches sometimes have occasion to offer hospitality to visiting preachers and missionaries and charity workers passing through town, but those are only occasional opportunities, and more and more, visitors prefer a hotel. No, the rubber meets the road in small groups. (Remember, we’re speaking of loving one another — within congregational life.)
Of course, the other place hospitality shows up is in inviting church members over to eat with you — especially the hard-to-love ones. In a church too small for small groups, that would likely be the main way that the command would be fulfilled. But for larger congregations, small groups is where the command to be hospitable really kicks in.
You see, one of the biggest barriers to a successful small group ministry is finding a family willing to host the meetings. And that’s a problem because we are not a hospitable people. We aren’t. If we were, the problem would be deciding which offer of hospitality we’d accept — and small groups would routinely rotate among several houses and apartments.
Given my way, small groups would run like this —
a. At the first meeting, all in attendance would agree to host the group on a rotating basis — regardless of how modest their home is. The only limit is whether we can physically fit in the space.
b. The group would rotate locations, starting with the most modest space.
Now, this is not just a matter of obeying a command. It’s essential to the proper functioning of a group. You see, one purpose of the group is to get to know each other and to remove pretense and false fronts in our personal interaction. And visiting in someone’s home removes just all kinds of pretense. You’ll know someone better than ever before in a way that can’t be replicated.
Moreover, the family hosting you has to make a decision to host. It’s a higher level of commitment. They have to clean and prepare and cook. They have to serve others at a deeper level. It’s easy to show up at someone else’s house and bring a bottle of Coke. It’s hard to prepare for 15 visitors. Hosting forces you to decide how important the group is to you. It means you have skin in the game. You have to become emotionally invested.
And in my experience, when a homemaker opens her modest home and finds that the meeting goes well, people enjoy the hospitality, and compliment her on her apartment, she feels accepted for who she really is, not who she pretends to be. It changes everything.
5. Love costs money and time
(1Jo 3:16-17 ESV) 16 By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers. 17 But if anyone has the world’s goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God’s love abide in him?
To love as Jesus loves, love must be sacrificial. And sacrifice means more than being willing to die for Jesus. In the USA, that’s too abstract. As John argues, if you’d give your life, surely you’d give your money!
Sometimes the cost is minimal — the cost of a green bean casserole or a jug of sweet tea. Sometimes it’s hamburger patties for 20. Sometimes it’s much, much more. But it costs money.
(Luk 6:33 ESV) 33 “And if you do good to those who do good to you, what benefit is that to you? For even sinners do the same.”
It’s easy to buy hamburgers this week if everyone takes turns and, on the whole, you’ll break even. But in the real world, it doesn’t work that way. If our congregations are what they should be, they’ll be filled with the poor. They’ll have college students overwhelmed with school debt. They’ll have broken families overwhelmed with credit card debt. In church, not everyone can carry his “fair” share. And that’s the beauty of church.
We feed and provide for others because we’ve been blessed with the ability to do so, not because it’s fair. It’s not fair. If you want fair, join the country club. They’re all rich. If you want Jesus, learn to sacrifice.
And the sacrifice we’re called to may be much more than 10 pounds of hamburger meat. My congregation recently built a house for a man paralyzed in an accident who’d lost his house to a fire. No Habitat for Humanity, just my congregation, with donations from across the city by many different people of many different denominations, pulling together to build the man a house. And it was expensive.
But it was an expense shared by many different people, each blessed with the ability to be generous. Some were more blessed than others and some were generous beyond their means. But this is how Jesus works.
Now, I know the objection that will come and I agree: we should not be enablers of laziness. There are lots of foolish ways to give money, and enabling bad habits is not loving. It may feel good, but it’s selfish to feel good while encouraging bad habits in others.
But pretending that everyone in need is an undeserving case is sheer rationalization. There are real needs, and we are called to help. I am the first say that the best help we can offer is training on how to live more responsibly and how to avoid being a beggar. Amen! But even that costs money.
I’m so tired of the tightwad church member sneering at pleas for help, rationalizing that we’re just enabling irresponsible behavior — and then refusing to volunteer to help the member in need work through his financial problems, deal with creditors, and become responsible.
You see, love doesn’t always cost money, but it always costs time. And the surest test of love is the willingness of a member to donate his time.