Sixteen Sunday of Ordinary Time

July 20, 2025

Luke 10: 38-42

The first reading from Genesis sets before us today the idea of hospitality. We see a scene of the lavish hospitality that is offered to a guest in the middle eastern desert society which in some ways continues even until today. This hospitality is given not just to a friend or relative; it is given to complete strangers as the three men are to Abraham. Hospitality means to offer all that we have to the guest, our best food and drink, the comfort of rest and cleanliness, focusing all our attention on the needs of this stranger in our midst. It seems that we have lost this concept of hospitality in our busy, self-centered world our society produces today. Why is it important to regain this attitude of hospitality? When we do, we are honoring all God’s creation and especially the respect due to a human life. When we put aside our concerns and prejudices, our preconceptions and instant judgments, we are closer to the attitude and love that God has for each of us. Abraham in this case received a reward: the birth of a son to Sarah who could not have children and was now old. But, when he opened his home to these strangers, he did not know that this would happen, that he was entertaining the messengers of God Himself.

The Gospel from Luke takes up the same theme of hospitality: how are we to receive Jesus? There is a tension here between the method of Mary and that of Martha, at least on the surface. Mary sits at Jesus’ feet and takes in his every word; she listens to him with all her being. She gives Jesus her undivided attention and his attentive to the word and message he is giving. Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem and is pouring out his deepest thoughts to those who follow him, not that they always understand. Mary is giving the gift of the first and most important aspect of hospitality: that we give our guest all our attention and listen with the heart. Martha is very busy with the details of hospitality, perhaps to the point of obsessing about it. She is not listening to the moment, and does not catch the importance of Jesus visit. She does not listen, but is only intent on speaking, at least with her busy actions. She does not listen, but only acts. Jesus corrects her, he is not condemning that she gives care to the physical elements needed to create hospitality. No, Jesus is telling her to slow down and take in the whole of what is necessary to truly receive someone: to listen with the heart. But after all, it is to Martha that Jesus speaks to later about Lazarus. Both heartfelt listening and care in the details of hospitality are needed, but we need to get both of them in, and in the right order. 

This story reminds us that we are to receive each person as if he or she is Christ. Today, we often do not get caught up in the details of hospitality so much, as we fail to even begin. It is difficult for us to disengage from ourselves long enough to realize that a person is in need of hospitality at all. Perhaps that is our first goal this Sunday: to notice when we are called to be hospitable, and then to realize that we are to treat each person as if he or she is Christ. This is the beginning of our Christian ministry, that is, to attract others to the Lord by being as hospitable to them as Jesus would be; after all, we are his hands, feet, and mouth. To be sure, this is not an easy task; it is full of difficulty. This is where the second reading from Paul’s letter to the Colossians comes in. This is part of how we make up “what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ on behalf of his body.” After all, Jesus has made each of us a part of his body. When we stretch ourselves in hospitality, we are offering up inconvenience, even possibly the ridicule of others, to bear within ourselves a small part of Christ’s afflictions or sufferings. 

Who indeed is the stranger in our midst? He or she might not be a messenger of God or a Martha or a Mary. That stranger may not be anyone but a possible annoyance. A professor in a large university was chatting with a friend in the his office; they were continually interrupted by students, who came knocking at the door, seeking the professor’s advice about something or other. Each time the professor rose from his chair, went to the door, and dealt with the student’s request. Eventually his friend asked him, “How do you manage to get any work done with so many interruptions?” The professor answered, “At first, I used to resent the interruptions to my work. But one day it suddenly dawned on me that the interruptions were my work.” That professor could have locked himself away and devoted his time to his own private work. In that way he would no doubt have had a quieter life. But being the generous and unselfish person that he was, he couldn’t do that. Instead, he made his work consist in being available to his students. It was no surprise that he was greatly loved by the students. And it was no coincidence that he was one of the happiest and most fulfilled professors on the campus. Our interruptions are, many times, our hospitality. We are being Christ’s body.

And what comes to us freely as we make ourselves Christ’s body? Nothing short of being filled with God’s grace: eternal life.

Fr. John Tran