Hospitality
In the dictionary hospitality is defined as "the friendly reception and treatment of guest or strangers."1 For many of us today, that’s probably what we think of when we hear the word. In my house, hospitality is a big deal. For me, hospitality means creating a welcoming environment where the stranger can find rest and comfort. I spend hours cleaning the house from top to bottom, put a lot of planning into what we will serve, buy the best meat and vegetables and cook with love and care so that our guests will feel that they are truly welcome.
When we consider the concept of hospitality, several scriptural references spring to mind. In the First Testament, we may turn to Genesis 18 and the story of the strangers visiting Abraham. This story is rich with the images of hospitality as Abraham races around making sure that the fatted calf is prepared, the strangers made comfortable, and later Abraham stands to the side like a waiter in a restaurant—at the ready to serve without being intrusive. These strangers are not just any strangers traveling in the desert, they are messengers from God who have come to announce that he and Sarah will have a child in their old age.
As I considered more carefully the concept of hospitality and its origins in the First Testament, I realized that this story of Abraham is an anomaly. Originally, hospitality was not so much a welcoming of the stranger as it was a defensive strategy for the host. Travel in the ancient mid-east was treacherous and so when strange travelers showed up in a community, they were welcomed, provided with food, water, and foot washing as a way of providing hospitality but also to protect the host. Once the traveler was offered all that good food and good rest, they were less likely to attack or steal from the host’s community. The transformation of this defensive strategy into something more benign is interesting.
By the time we get to the gospels, we hear that welcoming the stranger is an expectation that is related to acceptance of the one who is different—the outsider. Jesus is dependent on the hospitality of others for his care and shelter. We need look no further than the relationship that Jesus had with Mary and Martha and many of the other women who accompanied the disciples to realize this. Hospitality in the New Testament is clearly about fellowship and worship. It is likely that hospitality was a significant factor in what connected the early house churches to one another. It also seems that by the time of the New Testament the power equation has changed—no longer does the power reside with the stranger—it now resides with the host.
In Hebrews we hear this familiar verse, "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it." (Heb.13:2, NRSV) This verse connects us back to the Genesis story of Abraham and the strangers, and it also underscores the shift in the understanding of what hospitality was to accomplish. It was not so much a defensive strategy for the host as it was a protection for the traveling stranger.
Our society today is so oriented toward the self-serving individual, some people are not motivated unless there is something in it for them. As a result some attitudes about hospitality are more oriented toward those whom we know, than they are towards strangers. "In North American culture, people live increasingly isolated lives, seldom reaching out beyond a very close circle. We live in a self-protective age where parents must warn their children about strangers; who knows what might be lurking beneath a kind and gentle facade? Hence, we seldom move out toward strangers. Hospitality in the modern world entails some risk of moving toward the stranger with less than full certainly as to how one might be received. Such hospitality should be especially important in the life of worship, worship ought to be a setting in which the stranger is welcomed in premier ways."2
My husband and I have recently started hosting foreign students in our home. The first student we hosted was a young seminarian from the Reformed Church of Hungary who had traveled from Romania to work in our Presbytery’s summer camp program. We offered him a place to stay on the weekends. His English skills were rudimentary and our Hungarian non-existent, which made for some difficult conversations, but our shared religious beliefs made it easier. I think our guest was so embarrassed by his lack of English language skills that he rarely came out of his bedroom unless we were serving a meal. It did not matter that the Hungarian we knew was significantly less than his English. It was awkward to want to welcome and interact with a guest who did not know how to receive the hospitality we so much wanted to offer. We’ve also hosted international high school students for two summers as they visit the states, see the sights, and improve their language skills. It is always a challenge when there is difficulty communicating because of lapses in our language skills. Offering hospitality to these young people has been different for each set of students and always as much of an education for us as for them. For example, I’ve learned that young girls do not eat nearly as much food as teenage boys! We’ve also learned that not every student appreciates the hospitality we offer; in fact at least one student we hosted seemed to just take our home, our food, and our efforts for granted.
Recently I have been thinking that hospitality is a mutual activity. We can try all we want to welcome someone and offer them hospitality, but if they are not ready to be welcomed our efforts may not be perceived as much. That is what we experienced when we hosted our guest from Romania and at least one German student. The guest has to be willing to engage and interact for the experience to be equally fulfilling for both host and guest.
Perhaps I’ve come to this idea as a result of the training I’m currently engaged in to become a Spiritual Director. I realize that God in particular is very gracious and does not intrude where God is not invited. It’s up to us to open ourselves to God before God will impose God’s self on us. Among the things we learned early in our training was to always have a third chair in the room and to point this out to our directee. It is a way of being clear that there is an obvious place for God in the encounter. This technique is also a reminder to both parties that God is invited to be present and that we do not do this work apart from God.
In so many aspects of our lives we may lose sight that healthy relationships thrive on mutuality and yet, as I’ve learned in Spiritual Direction, it is all about nurturing a healthy relationship with God. The only way that I’ve been able to accomplish that is through speaking and listening, inviting, and responding; in other words fostering a mutuality model of relationship with God and others.
So how might this idea of mutuality change or expand our understanding of hospitality?
One reason why it is so hard for us to be truly hospitable is because open hospitality exposes us to the probability of entering into a transforming relationship. It might mean that someone we have never really trusted or thought appropriate might become one who introduces us to God’s truth in an unexpected and perhaps even alarming way. I’ve come to realize that the process of being transformed can be difficult and frightening. Allowing ourselves to be transformed by someone else means giving up control and graciously accepting the hospitality offered.
I cannot think of hospitality without considering the ritual of the Lord’s Supper. In our congregation we usually speak of Christ as the host at the table as compared with all the references in the bible to Jesus being dependent on others for sustenance. But it is what we do at the end of the communion service that dramatically opens us to the idea of mutuality and our own hospitality. We bring items for our local food pantry forward and place them at the foot of the communion table; we respond with our own generosity in response to the powerful gift given to us by God. It is in some ways a very simple act, but a powerful symbol of our willingness to respond to God’s generosity and hospitality with our own.
Just as Abraham offered hospitality to unknown strangers as an act of generosity and self-protection, we too offer hospitality to those in our community who are most in need. This act does something to us as well—it opens us to God’s work within us.
Notes
1 Random House Unabridged Dictionary Second Edition, (New York: Random House, 1993), 924.
2 The NewInterpreter’s Bible, (Abingdon Press, Nashville, 1994), 1:464.
