I’ve been thinking a lot about hospitality.
The missionaries from France who are simply hospitable to their Muslim neighbors as an act of both kindness and witness.
My hosts in Costa Rica, who lavishly welcomed me.
The Venezuelan refugees in Costa Rica, who are being taken care of by local churches and the Vida220 students.
Maxim and Julia’s church in Ukraine helping war refugees as they stream through Dnipro fleeing Russia’s war crimes.
This topic is a big deal in Scripture, and a key component of life together in the Kingdom. In the New Testament, the many verses that talk about the importance of hospitality use a combination of philos (brotherly love) and xenos (strangers and visitors). Over and over, God’s people are told that this should characterize them.
“Love each other steadily and unselfishly, because love makes up for many faults. Show hospitality to each other without complaint. Use whatever gift you’ve received for the good of one another so that you can show yourselves to be good stewards of God’s grace in all its varieties.” (1 Peter 4:8-10)
“Love others well… Despise evil; pursue what is good. Live in true devotion to one another… Be first to honor others by putting them first. Do not slack in your faithfulness and hard work...devote yourselves to prayer. Share what you have with the saints, showing hospitality, so they lack nothing; take every opportunity to open your life and home to others.” (Romans 12:9-13)
“Let love continue among you. Don’t forget to extend your hospitality to all—even to strangers—for as you know, some have unknowingly shown kindness to heavenly messengers in this way.” (Hebrews 13:1-2)
“Here are the qualifications to look for in an overseer: a spotless reputation, the husband of one wife, sober-minded, sensible, respectable, given to hospitality, and gifted to teach.” (1 Timothy 3:2)
This wasn’t just an idea buried in an obscure verse. This is a concept embedded in Scripture. The particular New Testament use of the Greek word for hospitality, while not found in the Old Testament Hebrew, pulls from a long tradition of teaching about hospitality in the Old Testament (different language, but a rose by any other name is still a rose, right?) Here’s just one example:
“When a stranger sojourns with you in your land, you shall not do him wrong… ‘When a foreigner resides among you in your land, do not mistreat them. The foreigner residing among you must be treated as your native-born. Love them as yourself, for you were foreigners in Egypt. I am the LORD your God.” (Leviticus 19:3; 33-34)
That’s pretty typical language for the Old Testament. The New Testament takes that principle and just kind of spreads it over everybody and everything. “Be nice. Take care of people in need. It starts with your brothers and sisters in Christ, but it extends to all, even your enemies.”
I was reading an article about the biblical perspective on hospitality that summarized it in a way that I think captures the overall emphasis.
Hospitality is the offer to extend the privileges of community to those who do not have the standing to expect it, especially those who are vulnerable because they are strangers… Hospitality is an offer to identify with outsiders and to treat them like insiders. Hospitality is extending privilege [of community] across difference.
I’ve been thinking about the implications of this. I hope this can spark thought and discussion about what it means to live our lives in a pattern of hospitality. I am going to separate it into three categories: Hospitality in our hands, our heart, and our head.
• Our hands (How we act)
• Our hearts (How we feel)
• Our head (How we think)
I want to really challenge us to think about the emphasis Scripture places on this. I assume it should make us uncomfortable. However, before I land on it in a way that I hope really challenges us, I have a qualification to offer so that we are not distracted.
Because we are not inexhaustible, we have to make decisions about what it looks like for us to live a sustainable lifestyle of hospitality. Two examples that I hope will show what I mean:
Some educational institutions have large sums of money tucked into investments to they can give grants to people who need them. This grant money often comes from the interest the large sum accrues. The school could give out all the money in one year, but it would undermine the long term sustainability of their generosity. Boundaries can help ensure longevity.
In the Crossfit world, we talked about the importance pacing ourselves in competitions. If you had a 20 minute workout, you could burn out in the 5th minute if you weren’t careful. To complete the work in front of you, you needed a sustainable effort. Too little, you lose. Too much, you burn out and still lose (or maybe not be able to finish).
There is plenty of room to be mindful of what sustainability looks like when it comes to serving other people. That’s a topic to address in Message+ today or with godly friends as situations arise. I want us to embrace the challenge over the next 20 minutes without being defensive or cynical. Let’s just absorb what the Bible says about the orientation of our head, heart, and hands. We will have plenty of time to work out the details.
* * * * *
How do I practice biblical hospitality in my head, heart and hands on a regular basis even in the ordinary, ongoing moments of life?
Hospitality in my head
This happens when I think/assume the best of others (unless clarity about who they are forces me to think otherwise). I begin by thinking about people generously until it is clear that I must reconsider. Lous Tverberg recounts in her book that there was a rich history of this mindset in the community into which Jesus was born. In 120 BC, a rabbi wrote, “Judge each person with the scales weighted in their favor.”
In fact, the rabbis had concluded that judging someone favorably was as important as visiting the sick, praying, or teaching the Scripture to children. On rabbi described how groups would get together and practice this:
When someone failed to receive a wedding invitation, they would conclude, “Perhaps that person thought they already sent it, or they could not afford more guests.” They opted not to take it as an insult.
If a neighbor drove past a friend with a heavy load without helping this friend, they thought, “Maybe he had committed himself to picking up other people, or he had a problem weighing on his mind and just wasn’t paying attention.” They didn’t assume he was a jerk.
Tverberg has other day-to-day examples in her book:
Maybe the person who didn’t shake my hand at church has a cold and didn’t want to make me sick, or it was all they could muster just to be here and they had no energy to be interactive.
Maybe that driver who cut me off was on the way to an emergency, or was overwhelmed by life.
Maybe that person who fell asleep during the service or the meeting at work was up late into the night comforting a friend.
Maybe that person who I thought ignored me Sunday in the lobby was just distracted.
Maybe the unanswered email went to spam, or just fell off their screen as messages piled up, or their computer crashed.
Maybe...
Tverberg quotes a psychologist who described the difference between “positive sentiment override” and “negative sentiment override.” In the first one, a positive sentiment towards someone overrides bad inclinations such that we tend to frame everything a person does in a generally positive light unless we are forced to conclude otherwise. The negative does the opposite. Over time, the NSO will so taint us to the other person that nothing they do is okay. Everything, even the good things, will be criticized.
On the other hand, positive sentiment builds its own momentum.
First, we learn to think of others as positively as we can. Then (it turns out) that filter of positivity brings an entirely different vibe into the room - and into our hearts. We are freed of the burden of negatively judging every little thing around us that can be misconstrued. I remember once being at a large gathering where a friend who was very busy just walked past me instead of saying hi. I made a half-joking comment to another friend about being ignored. She laughed and said, “Oh, Anthony. By all means – read into it.” It reoriented my head – and heart, which we will get to in a second.
Second, people around us can relax as they know they are freed of the burden of being too quickly judged. I think we all have experienced the difference between being around those who read into everything and arrive at negative conclusions vs. those who work hard to give the benefit of the doubt. In the former, you walk on eggshells all the time, knowing it won’t matter. You will do something wrong, real or imagined. In the latter, you can relax knowing that the people you are with are full of grace. You don’t have to be perfect for them.
It has challenged me to ask myself how people experience me, and I want to challenge you with the same. How do people perceive us? Are we generous, hospitable in our minds for as long as we can be toward those around us? And do they know it?
Hospitality in my heart
Not only do I seek to practice generous thoughts about others, I try to practice generous feelings. Philo is about brotherly love, the love for a friend or family member. I’m not so sure it requires us to like everybody as much as it’s trying to make a point about genuinely caring about people. Granted, it’s really hard sometimes to have emotional investment in the well being of people I might not even like. So, how do we go about cultivating hospitality in our hearts?
First, I think we start by listening and seeing people so we can understand them. We try to enter into their story in order to see how life has formed them. I recently had a long lunch with a friend I hadn’t seen in a while, and who is pretty overwhelmed with life. Some relational distance and tension had arisen between us over time. When we met, this person started by saying, “Anthony, I don’t feel heard by people around me. I don’t feel like people are listening to me. Today, I just want you to listen.” And as I listened, I gained understanding. And as I gained understanding, I experienced an increasing emotional investment in the well being of this friend.
Building that empathy didn’t mean we were suddenly in agreement about everything that contributed to the distance and tension that had formed between us. There were some real issues on the table between us. It did mean, however, that I had a renewed desire to affirm their value as an image bearer of God worth relational investment for their good and God’s glory.
Second, seek the heart of God toward this person. If Jesus were here, how would he be present with them? What would Jesus do or say? How would Jesus combine truth and grace? How would Jesus balance justice and mercy in a way that is geared toward their well-being? How do we extend the ‘privilege of community’ such that people actually believe we are serious when we say we care about them?
When I talk about generosity of heart, I’m not addressing yet what kind of hard conversations we may need to have or necessary boundaries we may need to draw at some point. I’m talking about the overall orientation of our hearts: do we have hearts that are inclined toward generosity as an ongoing high tide that washes onto the shores of those around us, such that if we must create distance for the sake of integrity and protection that we do it with grief and prayer, not hatred and callousness?
Hospitality in my hands
This happens when we embody kindness, service and honor with our posture, presence, attitude, and resources. In other words, our hands make practical what our head and heart have already made clear. I’m thinking of this reflection from Jesus:
“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, 36 I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’
“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’ “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’ (Matthew 25: 34-40)
What is the position of my hands when I see people around in me? Do I start with them clenched around my money, time and resources until I have to open them, or open until I need to close them? Do we wonder how little we can invest in those in need and still be considered generous, or wonder how much we can give while still being responsible?
There is a whole range of middle ground between those two ends of the spectrum, but even in that range, where do we land? What is the position of our hands, and what does that say about the orientation of our heart and head?
* * * * *
Envision, if you will, a church family in which we know that when we are together, we are surrounded by people who are hospitable:
In their heads (we know they will think generously of us)
In their hearts (we know they care deeply for our well being)
In their hands (we know they are ready to share with us)
Now envision, if you will, a city which knows that if they show up at this church, they will be surrounded by people who are hospitable:
In their heads (they will think generously of everyone)
In their hearts (they will care deeply for the well being of all)
In their hands (they are ready to share with everyone)