Our understanding of hospitality is rooted within the experiences of our childhood home, our respective ethnic and geographic cultures and is guided by our religious and/or philosophical perspectives. My understanding of hospitality reflects growing up in Michigan with my maternal grandparents who were active Christians who migrated from Mississippi early in their marriage. Their brand of southern Christian hospitality revolved around the offering of food and shelter to those who were in need. My grandfather was fortunate in that he was consistently employed during most of his adult life. Thus he and my grandmother were among the few black people in their community who had the means to express this form of hospitality toward others.

The importance of giving and serving others is embedded within me, in part, due to their profound influence on my life. For most of my life I understood hospitality as the way I serve and treat those whom I welcome into my home or my church. It was only after years in ministry when I began to realize that my definition was too narrow. While giving and serving others is one aspect of hospitality, the biblical text and our lived experience show us that the act of being hospitable requires a dynamic relationship between people–both the giver and the receiver of the hospitable act.

It is generally easy for clergy and church leaders to give to and serve others. In fact, these desires are in part what prompted many of us to accept our calling into our various ministries. However, accepting hospitality is altogether different, especially for those of us who work in poor communities. With this in mind, the questions that I would like to explore in this short article are: why is it difficult for some of us to receive hospitality, and what is at risk when we deny others the opportunity to share their gift of hospitality?

From a practical standpoint one would think that receiving hospitality should be relatively easy for most people. After all, who doesn’t like being treated as the center of attention? However, as Max Weber points out in his classic text The Protestant Ethic and the “Spirit” of Capitalism, within Euro-American Christian culture, the virtue of charity (giving the gift of hospitality) has been understood within a utilitarian framework (i.e. charity is useful because it positively influences how people will view you, not as an end in and of itself).1 As the United States ascended in global influence to become a superpower our country embraced this utilitarian view of charity, and unfortunately, this framework bled over into Christian practice. In this way, like the United States, many lower-middle, middle, and upper class American Christians began to view charity as unimportant because, when viewed from their position of power, there was very little if anything to gain from being charitable.

It is difficult, if not impossible, to receive hospitality if both parties do not view themselves as equals. Too often, American Christians have fallen into the trap of viewing ourselves as the liberators of the oppressed, rather than as a part of a larger group of fellow Christians called to liberate the oppressed. Often we can convince ourselves that denying someone the opportunity to be hospitable and refusing their gift is actually doing them a service. “After all they don’t have enough possessions to give away, and we have too much,” is how we may convince ourselves that when we refuse the hospitality of others we are acting appropriately. In this way, we fail to realize the power dynamic that exists when we practice one-sided hospitality.

In her book “Just Hospitality: God’s Welcome in a World of Difference,” theologian Letty M. Russell develops a feminist hermeneutic of hospitality that addresses the power dynamics involved in hospitality. Her hermeneutic requires three movements: “pay attention to the power quotient involved in what is said and who is saying it, give priority to the perspective of the outsider, and rejoice in God’s unfolding promise.”2 Paying attention to the power quotient requires that we recognize that people have different levels of power and influence depending on their social location. As religious leaders we generally find ourselves in positions of power where the power quotient may appear to be off balance. When we look to the biblical stories of Jesus we encounter a man who was keenly aware of the power dynamics that were at play during social occasions.

When hospitality is viewed through the lens of power we can read biblical stories such as the wedding banquet in Luke 14 with more clarity. In this passage Jesus exemplifies the three movements described by Russell. In the first portion of the parable, he disrupts the traditional Jewish notions of power that are present during large meals by teaching them that “all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.” In the second portion of the parable he encourages the hosts of the banquet to invite those who would not be able to repay them for their gift, those who are often viewed as the outsiders looking in on such gatherings. And lastly he explains that by doing all of this you will be “repaid at the resurrection of the righteous” and in this way Jesus encourages them to look forward to God’s unfolding promise. Jesus is attempting to deconstruct traditional notions of power that limited both the hosts and the guests from receiving hospitality in its fullest sense. By refraining from taking the seats of honor and inviting those who are traditionally viewed as outsiders, Jesus is also encouraging them to view each other as equals. Valuing their respective humanities should enable them to be in conversation with one another, and perhaps if all goes well, become friends with one another. This form of hospitality, one that cultivates shared power and collective identity, stands in stark contrast to dominant Euro-American practice. It is clear that while Jesus was the primary person of influence during these table fellowships, his actions show us that he considered himself as an equal. In this way, we ought to view Jesus’ hospitable actions in their totality and examine how he both gave and received hospitality.

The most obvious and well-known way Jesus demonstrated hospitality to others was through the miraculous acts that he performed. Yet, if we consider who Jesus was within his particular social location, we see that he was a man who needed, perhaps even depended upon, the hospitality of others. Jesus was a “traveling” teacher—he was homeless. Given this, there had to have been nights where he relied on the hospitality of the communities where he was teaching for a place of refuge. In addition to finding places to rest, a close reading of the gospels also reveals that Jesus enjoyed many meals with the community he was serving. When we consider the importance of the Communion meal within Christianity, it is clear that Jesus recognized the power dynamics that were at play within this hospitable act of eating with one’s neighbors. Indeed, eating with strangers or those whom we consider to be “others” has a way of humanizing them.

When we deny people the opportunity to share the gift of hospitality, we risk denying their humanity. When we serve others or when we are in community with our neighbors, as religious leaders we ought to be open to both meeting their needs and receiving their gifts. This is the dynamic tension that is present within all hospitable acts, and we have to train ourselves to be comfortable enough to take the risk of receiving hospitality. In his book “Hospitality: Risking Welcome,” David Jenkins states: “only when I let go of my need to be in control, even of hospitality and welcome, did I learn to receive the gifts of others, particularly those ‘weaker’ than myself.”3 Jenkins argues that hospitality is a gift that everyone has the capacity to offer. To deny others the opportunity to offer hospitality is to hold fast to our position of power.4 True hospitality can only exist among equals.

Hospitality is the practice of God’s welcome. Given that God welcomes all people, hospitality requires that we reach out across difference and gladly accept the reaching out of others in order to bring justice and healing to a world in crisis.5 I asked my grandfather why he helped so many of his neighbors who were in need. He told me that as a child, from the ages of ten to fifteen, he used to hitchhike from Brookhaven, Mississippi to the Louisiana delta to work in the fields during harvest time. Without receiving the hospitality of his community he would not have been able to support his younger brothers and sister. In essence, we show hospitality to others because we have received or will receive the gift of hospitality at some point in our own lives. In giving and receiving hospitality we hope to inspire others to break through preconceived notions of power, to recognize the full humanity in one another, and to allow the Spirit of God to bring us together in Holy community.

Notes

About the author

Christopher Carter wrote one article for this publication.

Christopher Carter is a third year PhD student at Claremont Lincoln University, where his research focuses on Christian Ethics, Africana Studies, and Eco-Theology. He has served as a United Methodist Pastor for five years, most recently as the Senior Pastor of First UMC of Compton. Currently on sabbatical leave to finish his degree, his goal is to serve both as a UMC Pastor and also as an Ethics professor in a college or seminary. Like the Apostle Paul, he believes the church is called to transform the world, not to conform to it.

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