June 28, 2026

 Jeremiah 28:5–9; Matthew 10:40–42

 

+ There are some messages we want tohear.

 

And there are other messages we needto hear.

 

In today’s reading from Jeremiah, thepeople desperately wanted good news.

 

 They had been invaded.

 

Their future looked uncertain.

 

Into that uncertainty stepped theprophet Hananiah, proclaiming exactly that everyone hoped was true: the crisiswould soon be over.

 

Peace would come quickly.

 

Everything would return to normal.

 

Jeremiah almost wishes Hananiah wereright.

 

“Amen,” he says. “May the Lord do so.”

 

It is one of the most poignant momentsin all of Scripture. Jeremiah is not eager to be the prophet of judgment.

 

He would much rather proclaimrestoration than catastrophe.

 

But wishing something to be true andit actually being true are not the same thing.

 

Truth is not measured by howcomforting it is.

Jeremiah reminds the people that thetrue prophet is not simply the one who says what people want to hear.

 

The true prophet is known by whetherthe word entrusted to them proves faithful to God’s purposes.

 

That is a difficult lesson in everygeneration.

 

We all have a tendency to seek voicesthat reassure us rather than voices that challenge us.

 

We like sermons that confirm ourassumptions.

 

We like leaders who promise easyanswers.

 

We like religion that asks very littleof us.

 

But the Gospel rarely takes the easypath.

 

Jesus sends disciples into acomplicated world.

 

He tells them they will not always bewelcomed.

 

They will not always be understood.

 

Following Christ is not a guarantee ofcomfort or popularity.

 

And yet today’s Gospel is surprisinglygentle.

 

“Whoever welcomes you welcomes me.”

 

Notice what Jesus does not say.

 

He does not say that only the greatsaints matter.

 

He does not say only bishops, priests,or famous Christians carry his presence.

 

He says that when we receive oneanother in his name, we receive him.

 

The Kingdom often comes in very smallways.

 

A shared meal.

 

A listening ear.

 

A hospital visit.

 

A handwritten note.

 

A prayer offered quietly.

 

Even, Jesus says, a cup of cold water.

 

Not because the water isextraordinary, but because love has transformed an ordinary act into somethingsacramental.

 

That is deeply Episcopal.

 

We believe that ordinary things becomebearers of extraordinary grace.

 

Water becomes the washing of newbirth.

 

Bread and wine become the means bywhich Christ feeds his people.

 

Human beings, with all ourimperfections, become living members of Christ’s Body.

 

Grace delights in ordinary things.

 

That also means ordinary acts ofkindness are never wasted.

 

Most of us will never stand beforekings as Jeremiah did.

 

Most of us will never become famousfor our faith.

 

But every one of us has opportunitiesevery day to receive Christ in another person and to make Christ presentthrough simple acts of generosity.

 

The world often measures importance bysize, influence, or visibility.

Jesus measures faithfulnessdifferently.

A cup of cold water.

A welcome.

An open door.

A place at the table.

These are not insignificant things.

They are the very building blocks ofthe Kingdom of God.

Jeremiah reminds us that faithfulnessrequires truth.

Jesus reminds us that truth mustalways be accompanied by hospitality.

The Church is called to hold bothtogether.

We do not simply tell people what theywant to hear.

Nor do we merely tell the truthwithout compassion.

We welcome.

We listen.

We tell the truth in love.

We bear one another’s burdens.

We offer grace freely because gracehas first been offered to us.

Every Sunday we come to this altarempty-handed.

We do not earn our place here.

We are welcomed.

Welcomed by Christ.

Fed by Christ.

Sent out by Christ.

And then we become the people throughwhom Christ welcomes the world.

May we be known not for easy answersor comfortable religion, but for steadfast truth, generous hospitality, andquiet acts of mercy that reveal the presence of Christ in our midst