Follow Me ‘Whoever receives you, receives me’ By Bishop Terry R. LaValley

July 1, 2026

The following is Bishop Terry R. LaValley’s homily for the Thirteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time, June 28.

It seems like the whole world is on the move. In recent years we have seen huge numbers of people fleeing warfare, terror and violence in the Middle East and others seeking to escape poverty in sub-Saharan Africa. In the Americas, peoples from many countries head northwards, seeking a better life in the United States, trying to escape from drug and gang violence that tears families apart. Even people up north move in droves to the south to escape the rigors of our winters. It seems that everybody is moving somewhere!

Sometimes migrant people are welcomed and find refuge; sometimes they are turned away or encounter hostility when they reach the land of their dreams; sometimes, tragically they find death, drowning in the waters of the rivers and seas they try to cross. Last year, I met a grandmother, her daughter and her grandson who had walked, walked from Venezuela to Plattsburgh. Their story was one of tremendous fear, courage, and inspiring faith.

No one would claim that there is a simple solution to the issue of mass migration; yet few of us can remain unmoved by the desperation that leads people to leave their homes and take their families on such perilous journeys. Criminals take advantage of the plight of the destitute. The question of just how welcoming to be is one which many host nations, including our own, grapple with. We have a right to protect our borders. But how do we, as Catholic Christians, do that justly?

The scale of mass migration is especially challenging for countries that pride themselves on being democracies with a long tradition of welcoming people who are poor and oppressed. Noting the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence, our nation’s bishops, a couple of weeks ago, consecrated this Land of the Free and Home of the Brave to the Sacred Heart of Jesus – a tender, loving, a welcoming Heart. The quality of our welcome, or our lack of welcome, is making many of us take a hard look at our core values, human decency and our very self-understanding. Is our welcome seen through the lens of our faith or our politics?

The Letter to the Hebrews tells us: “remember always to welcome strangers, for by doing this, some people have entertained angels without knowing it.” From Abraham and Sarah onwards, the scriptures show how people who extend hospitality to strangers are often the ones who actually end up receiving the hospitality of God. In our First Reading today, the prophet Elisha wants to give some kind of payment to the unnamed woman who is so generous in her welcome to him. She declines his offer, saying that she has everything she needs. Her generosity is not given for any hope of reward but simply is an expression of her kindness, reflecting the sort of person that she is.

However, Elisha does promise her the one thing that she truly desires: the gift of a son. In the Gospel, Jesus intensifies this teaching on the importance of welcome and hospitality. Christ identifies so closely with His disciples that He says that anything done to help them will be regarded as done to Him personally – even something as trivial as offering a cup of water.

God is never outdone in hospitality. We give different names to that hospitality: salvation, eternal life, healing, mercy, forgiveness, holiness. These are the ways in which we experience the hospitality of God. It never, never fails, always when we welcome God into our lives – in our prayer, in our service to others, in faithfulness to our calling – we find ourselves blessed, enriched by that encounter.

I remember that during the pandemic, we saw countless individuals who went out of their way to be hospitable, extending themselves to neighbor in need – making face protection – even for total strangers, sanitizing our churches, health care workers, teachers, volunteers doing social outreach, food pantries, pastors, seminarians, parish staffs, and the list goes on.

In many small and countless ways, it is God’s very self who is the visitor in our daily lives. For when we welcome strangers, feed people who are hungry, clothe those who are naked, visit those who are sick or imprisoned – then it is Christ Himself whom we are welcoming. And we are inevitably changed by that encounter.

We become more compassionate, more willing to serve, more ready to turn away from our sin, more gentle, more open to life, more able to listen, to pray, to love. In short, we become more like the God we welcome. Such hospitality is not simply sacred – it is life-saving and life-giving both for us and for those we welcome.

The challenge of mass migration is forcing many countries, many individuals, including you and me, to examine our values and our heart condition. Clearly, we should not pretend that there is an easy answer, but our attitude to how we respond reveals the kind of persons – and society – we are. As we celebrate the 4th of July this coming Saturday, let us remember Jesus’ words to each of us: “Whoever receives you, receives Me,” My sisters and brothers, through what we do and say, May God be praised…forever may God be praised!