Saturday, 27 June 2026

13th Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A 2026

The Gospel is clear about the cost of discipleship. At least that is the case when we read the first part of it. The hyperbole of hating parents or family in order to follow Christ highlights not only the need to prioritise but also what we now know as “cheap” or “costly” grace. Apart from having to put God first, the truth is talk is cheap whereas walking the talk is pricey. There is no escaping hardship if we are willing and we desire to follow Christ. However, a focus on the cost of discipleship itself tends to weigh the theme down with a heaviness that feels like Lent where the highlight is on the Passion and on the price that Christ will pay for our redemption.

Having said that, there are realities which we are familiar with. Without a doubt, to follow Christ, there is always a cost. At the least, it usually comes in the form of inconvenience because there is never going to be an easy way to follow Him. Jesus was correct to demand right at the start: “Take up your Cross and follow me”. I guess for many of us, that command is unpleasant because some of us are accustomed to a version of Christianity which is “lite” or as Bonhoeffer used to say, a “Christianity without the Cross”. But never mind, let us set aside this truth for the time being and turn to the 2nd part of the Gospel.

There is a promise of compensation as Jesus pointed to the reward for those who sheltered to or provided respite for His followers. It flows from the 1st Reading where, for her extraordinary hospitality, the Shunammite woman was blessed by God with a child. There is a danger though because latent in such a passage is a hint of the Gospel of Prosperity. That the Shunnamite woman hospitality to the Prophet Elisha would receive the blessing of a child IS not far away from preaching about God as a lavish rewarder of the cheerful giver.

Which begs the question about what sort of hospitality was Jesus talking about? Like in Matthew’s Last Judgement, Jesus identifies with those marginalised and rejected, especially on account of His name. Giving food to the poor is feeding Christ; and clothing the poor is dignifying Him; visiting the sick is comforting Him. Thus, those who welcome the disadvantaged and the discarded, welcome Him. The compensation for hospitality is tied to the recognition of Christ in those who belong to Him. The greatest reward which we get, which is also immaterial, is the recognition of the strong connexion between the Eucharist and hospitality.

For many of us, hospitality is narrowly defined by our experiences of the service industry. Hotels and airlines are the prime examples of the service industry. Of course, hospitals as and when they have been co-opted into the service industry belong in this category and not forgetting food and beverage too. Unfortunately, the standard for measuring hospitality is basically those who pay more are entitled to a better treatment. We see this service differential between the legacy and the low cost airlines where you get what you pay for. Or your chances of survival is better if you go to a private rather than a public hospital. The commodification or commercialisation of hospitality heightens expectation or better entitlement. For example, a person who comes to Church feels entitled to a warm welcome no matter what. It is true that reception of strangers should be cordial and heartfelt. But it should also be clarified that when someone dresses inappropriately and does not respect the sacredness of this space, he or she can be turned away without fear of the accusation that the community is inhospitable. While it is true that hospitality is linked to physical welcome but there is more to it than meets the eye.

Hospitality is tied to the recognition of Christ. The word “company” seems to restrict itself to a business-like definition until we realise that its etymology is related to bread. In its most fundamental sense, the word “company” refers to having someone to break bread with. In Luke’s Gospel, “they recognised Him at the breaking of bread”. If the word “company” is not eucharistic enough and if that is not hospitality, then what is it? Remember? “When they drew near to the village to which they were going, He made as if to go on; but they pressed Him to stay with them. ‘It is nearly evening’ they said, ‘and the day is almost over.’ So He went in to stay with them”.

Hospitality makes the most sense out of the Eucharist and it defines who we are as followers of Christ. To be hospitable is to recognise Christ not only in our friends but also in our enemies. These words “host, hospital, hostile are related”.[1] “Hostis” means enemy in Latin and in the context of “company”, the Eucharist becomes a sacred space where enmity can be transformed by the sacrifice of Christ into the place of peace where enemies can come and break bread together. In the Eucharistic host, which is the bread, Christ becomes the Host (the welcoming guest master) who sustains us with His Body and Blood so that we may have the heart to recognise Him and the strength to be hospitable like Him. Yes, in the Eucharist all are welcome like Jesus who ate with sinners. But there is a caveat though. Even though He accepts sinners, He did not condone or affirm their sins. In other words, the Eucharist while challenging us to recognise Christ, at the same time, invites us to truthfully and call out behaviours which distance us from God. In a world of non-judgementalism, where no offence should be given, a world that a world that fears moral boundaries, the ability to call truth out can be the heavy cost of our discipleship.



[1] We accept the Eucharist as strength, as in the Viaticum. However, we may not have fully appreciated that the Eucharist is radical hospitality. That is established in Matthew’s Last Judgement where in no uncertain terms we are told that the point of hospitality is to welcome Christ Himself who often comes to us incognito. Interestingly, the communion wafer you receive is called “host” and the word “host” is related to stranger, guest, enemy, horde, army and victim. In Latin, the word “hostia” from where we derive the word “communion host” originally means sacrificial victim. So Christ is the “hostia”, the sacrificial victim. Then there is the Latin word “hostis” which originally meant a “stranger” or a “guest”. In the context of war, a “foreigner” or a “stranger” can easily come to be associated with being an “enemy” (as in the term “hostile enemy”). Both “hostis” and “hostia” are connected in the sense that when a horde, a legion or a host of Roman army wins, they get to sacrifice their enemies (hostis) as victims (hostia) to their gods. In the Eucharist, humanity who made God their enemy, sacrificed His Son as the victim. In the Eucharist, beyond the language of sacrifice and enmity, we get the supreme irony that Christ Himself took on the role of the enemy and thereby making Himself the victim sacrificed so that we might be saved.