The shadow of the desert sun often prompts us to seek shelter, but as a community of faith here at St. Elizabeth Seton, we are called to be the shelter. In the quiet expanses of Sun City, where neighbors often come from afar to find a peaceful community, the virtue of hospitality takes on a profound, spiritual weight. It ceases to be merely a social grace or a polite gesture; instead, it becomes a radical act of Christian discipleship. When we open our hearts and our parish doors to others we are not just welcoming the stranger - we are welcoming Christ Himself.
This profound mystery of welcome connects our parish life directly to the sacred scriptures. In 2 Kings, we encounter the story of the prophet Elisha and the wealthy woman from the town of Shunem. She did not know Elisha intimately, but she recognized him as a holy man of God. Prompted by a spirit of pure hospitality, she did not merely offer him a passive meal, she convinced her husband to build a small, furnished roof room for the prophet, complete with a bed, a table, a chair, and a lamp. It was a permanent space of sanctuary.
The Shunamite woman expected nothing in return for her generosity. Yet, true hospitality is never a one -way street; it carries an inherent divine reward. Discerning her deepest, unspoken sorrow – her childlessness and her husband’s advanced age - Elisha prophesied that by the following year, she would hold a newborn son. Her open door became the gateway for a miracle. By making room for the prophet, she made room for the life-giving power of God to transform her own barren reality.
This Old Testament narrative finds its fulfillment in the radical demands of the Gospel of Matthew. Jesus challenges his disciples with words that can initially sound stark: “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me.” He calls us to a radical reordering of our priorities, placing our relationship with God above all else. But immediately following this call to total surrender, Jesus pivots to the beautiful theology of the welcome. He declares, “Whoever receives you receives me, and whoever receives me receives the one who sent me.”
Through these words, Christ elevates the act of hospitality to a sacrament of encounter. When you smile at the parishioner next to you, offer a warm greeting before mass, or invite a lonely neighbor to a parish event, or to the next golden jubilee event, you are participating in the divine chain reaction. The care we extend to the least among us ripples upward into the very heart of the Trinity.
Jesus promises specific rewards for this faithfulness. He speaks of a “prophet's reward and a “righteous man’s reward.” What are these rewards? They are the spiritual graces that the holy person brings into our lives. When we welcome people of faith into our cycle, their wisdom, their peace, and their holiness rub off on us. We are enriched by the unique reflection of God that every individual carries.
Furthermore, Christ reminds us that no act of kindness is too small to escape God’s notice: “And whoever gives only a cup of cold water to one of these little ones to drink because the little one is a disciple - amen, I say to you, he will surely not lose his reward.” With the rising temperatures now and the scorching heat of Arizona summers, a cup of cold water is a literal lifesaver. Spiritually, our world is patched, crying out for the cooling waters of kindness, validation, and community.
Our patroness , St. Elizabeth Seton modeled this perfectly. She was a woman of deep relationships, a mother, and a foundress who constantly threw open her heart to care for the spiritual and physical needs of others. She understood that a parish must be a family.
As we reflect on our liturgy this week, let us look at our own community with fresh eyes. Hospitality at St. Elizabeth parish is not the job of a single committee or the hospitality ministers at the door; it is the joyful obligation of every person who sits next to you at Mass. It means moving beyond our comfortable holy huddles to notice the unfamiliar face. It means offering a seat to someone looking for a place to sit, or patiently listening to an older struggling parishioner who needs a friendly voice.
The rewards of such hospitality are visible right here in Sun City. When we cultivate a culture of radical welcome, our parish transforms from a building where people attend an event into a spiritual home where people experience belonging. The lonely find companionship, the grieving find comfort, and the seeker finds faith. Like the woman of Shunem, we will find that our own spiritual lives, which may sometimes feel dry or barren, are suddenly blessed with new life, joy, and purpose.
Let us challenge ourselves this week to give that “cup of cold water.” Let us make room, both in our church and in our lives, for the stranger, the prophet, and the neighbor. In doing so we will open ourselves up to the beautiful, unexpected rewards that God always pours out on a welcoming heart.
God is good, all the time!
Fr. Williams Abba
“The only thing that counts is faith working through love” – Galatians 5:6
