Though an envoy in the Greco-Roman world could represent a personage more palatable to the receiving party than the sender himself, it is nevertheless the case, Mitchell asserts, that the “envoy or emissary represents the one by whom and in whose name he was sent.” Obviously this is not fully the case today, as it is commonplace to retort, when delivering an unpopular message, “don’t shoot the messenger!”
The basic equation of messenger with sender takes on an interesting flavor when it becomes spiritualized in the early church, Mitchell points out, and “is applied Christologically . . . so that in receiving the Christian, one receives Christ (Mark 9:37; Matt 10:40).” (She references the appointing of the twelve disciples as an earlier beneficiary of this “cultural assumption.”) Indeed Paul, writing to the Thessalonians, rejoices that the church, “when you received the word of God which you heard from us, you accepted it not as the word of men, but . . . the word of God” (1 Thess. 2:13).
Ultimately, Mitchell argues, this “whole complex is rooted for Paul . . . in God’s sending of the Christ, who now sends Paul,” who now sends the envoy(s). Those who are the recipients of the envoy are to behave as though they are actually welcoming the sender himself. Mitchell finds evidence for this strong connection between envoy and sender in the way Paul, in defending himself against charges leveled by the Corinthians, presents as evidence of his own uprightness “Titus’ behavior among them” (2 Cor. 12:17–8).
Reminders of the need for proper reception often take place, moreover, as Paul makes clear in Philippians when he urges that the church receive Epaphroditus “in the Lord” and “hold such men in high esteem” (Phil 2:29). This does not insinuate that Epaphroditus had fallen into ill-repute with the church, Mitchell suggests, but is rather a formulaic expression.