Living on the edge: the gift of hospitality

The concept of hospitality came to life for me the winter of 1990. I was a student at Mennonite Brethren Biblical Seminary in Fresno and had the opportunity to attend a conference for female students of theology. Women from across North America and from many walks of life gathered at San Francisco United Seminary to study the topic of hospitality.

It was at this gathering of women that I learned a definition of hospitality with which even I, a product of the 70s, could identify. Hospitality, declared the conference theme, is “living on the edge.”

Prior to this, my idea of hospitality was limited to images of a cozy group of friends gathered to share the warmth of a meal and laughter. For others, it may draw to mind pulling off impressive dinner parties or casual backyard barbecues. However, neither of these examples remotely resembles living life on the edge.

Hospitality that is defined as living on the edge is radical, it is countercultural, it is shocking. It is what Jesus lived. Hospitality necessitates leaving the comfortable centre of entertaining people who make us feel important or good about ourselves. It reaches out to the edge of our comfort zones to those on the periphery who, through our graciousness and warmth, are drawn into the circle of belonging. They begin to experience the reality that they matter.

A reciprocal relationship

Consider the story of Zacchaeus. Quite a character, that man. Too short to see over the crowd, Zacchaeus climbed a tree to see Jesus walk by, and to his amazement, Jesus stopped, looked up at him and said, “Zacchaeus, come down immediately. I must stay at your house today.”

The Bible reports that Zacchaeus climbed down and welcomed him gladly. Hospitality is a reciprocal relationship but not in the sense that “we had them over last, it’s their turn to invite us now.” Jesus offered hospitality to Zacchaeus by recognizing, acknowledging and calling Zacchaeus by name. His treatment of Zacchaeus said, “I see you. You matter to me.” Zacchaeus, once noticed, offered hospitality by receiving Jesus into his home.

Hospitality means looking in the eye the observer who is on the fringe and calling that person by name. It means stepping into that person’s world – into his or her centre – when they don’t feel comfortable in ours. When we step into another person’s world with Christ at our centre, we bring hospitality with us. We offer the hospitality of grace, acceptance and presence.

Hospitality is not always easy. Jesus left the centre of His followers to risk including an outsider. The followers could choose to join Jesus at the edge, or they could criticize. And criticize they did. The Bible says, “All the people saw this and began to mutter, ‘He has gone to be the guest of a sinner’.” Muttering and criticizing is how we try to maintain social order, saying in effect, “But Jesus, it just isn’t done!”

Getting ready

I practice hospitality most commonly as a counsellor, which I didn’t recognize as including the gift of hospitality until I read Margaret Guenther’s book, Holy Listening. Secondly, I practice it as a partner in ministry with my husband Ross, whose vocation is pastor.

Reading Guenther’s book, I laughed aloud as I read, “Guests provide a helpful discipline. Left on our own, we can walk endlessly around disorder and uncleanness, vowing to do something about the state of our house sometime, but not now. But when an honoured guest is coming, we carry out the trash, restore objects to their places, and create an uncluttered, clean, and welcoming space.”

Ross and I often use company to ensure our house will be cleaned with at least some regularity. (Those looking for messy house solutions may find hosting a weekly small group most effective.)

But hospitality goes much beyond creating an inviting and hospitable environment. It also means our hearts have to be cleaned up, prepared to serve our guests. It means personal and spiritual issues must be dealt with, not once and for all but in an ongoing way, and relational issues must be addressed so they do not block our ability to truly offer a “safe house” for the concerns hurting people bring to our doorstep.

Self-awareness

In order to create safety as opposed to toxicity, we need to be self-aware. Blind spots increase the likelihood that we will inappropriately filter the grace God is waiting to bestow on those He invites to experience His hospitality in our home or presence. According to Guenther, two major blind spots are pride and self-contempt.

Leanne Payne writes, “I can be a Christian filled with the Spirit of God, but if I hate myself, the light of God is going to emanate through me in distorted ways. I will still be seeing myself through the eyes of others around me, those who perhaps could not love or affirm me. I will not be seeing myself through the eyes of God; I will not be listening for the affirming as well as the corrective words He is always speaking to me, His beloved child.”

Hospitality, above all else, is preparing our hearts to see ourselves as God sees us, then inviting the Spirit to help us see our guest as God sees them and treating them accordingly.

God blesses us so that we will pass it on. When we hold tightly to the blessings God gives us, we lose much of their benefit. God offers us the hospitality of His presence when we need a welcoming smile, an accepting embrace, or a corrective word followed on its heels by grace. In turn, He invites us to offer the same hospitality to others.

Dawn Penner is founder of Healing Streams, an organization dedicated to restoring relationships to self, others and God. She is a member of Glencairn MB Church, Kitchener, Ont.