Rev. Kevin M. Pleas

Matthew 10:40-42

March 9, 2008

"Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. Whoever welcomes a prophet in the name of a prophet will receive a prophet's reward; and whoever welcomes a righteous person in the name of a righteous person will receive the reward of the righteous; and whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple - truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward."

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There's an old story of the "Reader's Digest" variety that goes like this. After a preacher died and went to heaven, he noticed that a New York cabdriver had been given a higher place than he had. "I don't understand," he complained to St. Peter. "I devoted my entire life to my congregation." "Our policy is to reward results," Peter explained. "Now what happened, Reverend, whenever you gave a sermon?" The minister admitted there were usually some in his congregation who fell asleep. "Exactly," said St. Peter. "But let me tell you, when people rode in this man's taxi, not only did they stay awake, they prayed."

There are a lot of stories like this aren't there; jokes about people appearing at the gates of heaven; who gets in and who doesn't; who is and who is not more deserving. One way or another, all these stories turn on the idea that heaven is "the great reward." If you've lived a good life, you deserve to get in, although you might have to wait in line behind someone who lived a better life than you did, like a cab driver maybe. When you think about it though, isn't this a strange notion for a religion that professes to believe that God's grace cannot be earned? How do we reconcile the idea of "God's free gift of grace," with a heaven you have to earn you way into? They seem to pull in different directions don't they.

The problem is, for most of us, receiving something without earning it doesn't work very well. It robs us of our motivation. When things are handed to us on a silver platter, we don't tend to appreciate them very much. We take them for granted. We start acting like we're entitled and shouldn't have to do anything in return. That's just the way human beings operate; some of us anyway. Martin Luther, you may recall, had a revelation about how we are saved by God's free gift of grace, and that became the heart of his entire theology. He believed, at least at the beginning, that people would be so profoundly moved by this incredible gift that they would spend the rest of their lives in joyful service out of gratitude. Apparently, it worked that way for Luther. But you know as well as I do, it doesn't work that way for everybody. Which means that, even though we do believe that God's grace is free, we still need to somehow balance that against our tendency to stop trying once we have what we want. And that, is where rewards come in.

I often find it interesting, when I'm trying to understand a word from the Bible, to look not only at what it means but also at how it is used. The word "reward" makes an interesting study. In all of the sayings of Jesus, "reward" appears one time in Mark, twice in Luke and not at all in John, unless you count the "Revelation of John," in which case there is one. So, four times altogether throughout the New Testament, except for Matthew. In Matthew, the word "reward" appears twelve times. So clearly, for Matthew, the idea of reward is something of a theme.

In the scripture Greg just read to you, reward appears three times. There's a reward that comes to those who are prophetic. There's one for the righteous, and there's one for those who are generous, even to the extent of giving a single cup of cold water to a thirsty child. Matthew takes great pains to point out that those who give of themselves in the service of ministry need have no fear that they will be appropriately rewarded.

But this isn't the first time reward appears in Matthew. Earlier in his book, the idea has already been set up by a wonderful string of sayings from the Sermon on the Mount. Let me spell it out for you. It begins with the Beatitudes. Blessed are the poor. Blessed are those who mourn. Blessed are those who are persecuted. There are eight of these statements altogether, and in every one of them, Jesus says that the ones who are really blessed in this life are exactly the opposite of the ones we usually fawn over. It isn't the rich, the famous and the powerful. It is the meek, the pure, the merciful and those who make peace. In God's eyes, these are the ones who are truly blessed. And at the end of these sayings, he points out that those who strive after God's blessings and build their lives around them are going to suffer. But never fear, and then comes that word, "great is your reward in heaven."

The Sermon then goes on to some very interesting specifics. Jesus says we should love our enemies, which is something we find in a number of places throughout the New Testament. But in Matthew, this love for our enemies is put in the context of rewards. What reward do you have, he says, if you only love those who love you back? He doesn't answer his own question, but we're left to assume it isn't very good. He then talks, in turn, about giving alms, praying and fasting, and in each case the pattern is the same. Be careful of practicing your piety before people. You're not going to have any reward if the whole point of your doing these things is to be seen by other people. Look at how good I am at prayer, at fasting, at giving my tithe. If what you want is to have the fawning admiration of people, go for it. But you will discover, as rewards go, it's not much. The point, of praying, fasting and giving, is not to inflate your own ego. The point is to draw closer to God, and when you do that, all off by yourself in your own room, God, who sees everything that goes on in the secret places of our lives, will reward you with the true riches of God's blessings.

This is a constant theme in Matthew. "Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal." Rather, "store up for yourselves treasures in heaven." Sound familiar? He doesn't actually use the word in this case, but the idea is the same. In this life you can set your sites on whatever you want to, but some things are more rewarding than others.

I'm not in the habit of quoting Charles Swindoll. Most of his stuff is a bit too far right for my tastes. But I came across a quote from his book "Improving Your Serve," that makes good sense to me, mostly because he, in turn, is quoting C.S. Lewis. Swindoll writes, "In his book The Weight of Glory, C.S. Lewis notes how believers often underestimate the full riches God has for His children." Then he quotes Lewis. "... If we consider ... the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that our Lord finds our desires, not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures ... like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased."

We are far too easily pleased. Isn't that interesting? We are far too easily satisfied with the surface, transient, ephemeral rewards this life has to offer us. We are lulled into dullness, inactivity and boredom by the easy access we have to all the goodies, all the bells and whistles of modern life. And if that's true, and for most of us it certainly is at least some of the time, suddenly it isn't hard to hear Jesus' voice echoing down through the years, "you have your reward."

But the implication is clear. As far as Jesus is concerned, there are better rewards, higher and deeper rewards, rewards that are more meaningful and lasting, rewards that are more worthy of our effort and attention. And yes, if we decide to go after these higher rewards, you can bet there will be some suffering involved. There may be sacrifices to make or long hours to endure. It may require a reordering of our priorities, a setting aside of unprofitable pastimes in favor of better ones. If we are truly faithful, we are told, we may even face some persecution for it. But, in the end, it will all be worthwhile. The measure we receive will be even greater than the measure we give.

Now, I happen to believe that's true. But I also believe we have to be careful. Most of us wouldn't willingly go out looking for suffering or persecution. And I don't really think that's what we're being asked to do anyway. I believe God's grace is free for all of us, that we don't have to earn it. But it's also true that we get more out of those things we put more into. We all need to be reminded, from time to time, that if our faith in God's free grace is real, it will tend to move us toward higher states of faithfulness. No more than a handful of people will ever reach the level of self sacrifice that Jesus did. But our calling isn't to do what he did. It is to do, in deepening faithfulness, what we can do; and if the promise of a reward helps motivate us in that direction, then so much the better.

Let me close with another Reader's Digest story. "One morning," the man said, "I opened the door to get the newspaper and was surprised to see a strange little dog with our newspaper in his mouth. Delighted with this unexpected 'delivery service,' I fed him some treats. The following morning I was horrified to see the same dog sitting in front of our door, wagging his tail, surrounded by eight newspapers. I spent the rest of that morning returning the papers to their owners."

Just like the neighborhood dog, we do tend to respond well to the promise of a reward. There's nothing wrong with that. It's just human nature. But, once in awhile, it's a good idea to stop and think about whether or not we're satisfied with the rewards we're chasing after. Are they worthy of our efforts or are we, just possibly, being called to a deeper faithfulness and higher rewards?

Amen.