Embracing Hospitality: Help for the Hesitant Host

Introduction

Company’s Comin’

Whenever, wherever, however the kingdom manifests itself,
it is in WELCOME.
Krister Stendahl, Swedish theologian

A knock on the door, a peek out the window, and an audible groan escaped my lips. “It’s Hershel again,” I said to my mom, with the usual rolling of the eyes, emphasizing our friend’s name with no small amount of disgust.

He was an older man, some acquaintance of my father’s, who would drop by our house occasionally throughout my childhood. His “just dropping by” usually meant an entire afternoon of sitting across from him, listening to one story after another—stories of all his latest business dealings, sprinkled heavily with arrogance and bragging. Any attempt to interject a thought or two was practically ignored.

Grudgingly, we all resigned ourselves to an outward posture of listening, while inwardly we were heaving sighs of disappointment over all the “wasted time” with Hershel. His breath usually smelled of alcohol, and he chain-smoked through every visit in our home.

I still picture myself sitting there with a bored look, my mind far away playing with my friends, imagining what I was missing in the next chapter of my latest book, or wondering what Gilligan was doing on the island that afternoon. Looking back now, I imagine Hershel was probably an alcoholic and carried many burdens. I sometimes wonder whatever happened to him.

I also wonder if we could have ministered to some of his needs had we demonstrated more warmth and love, instead of the cold tolerance he probably sensed. He always came back, though, perhaps desperate for a listening ear. I think we were some of his only friends.

I’m not sure I even heard the word hospitality, much less understood what it meant, until many years into my own Christian experience. I probably heard bits and pieces of teaching on this topic throughout my life, but tuned it out thinking, “Well, that’s just not us.” By “us,” I meant my family—we weren’t what you’d call “outgoing.” Basically, we were mostly introverts, shy folk, comfortable to stay home all by ourselves, thank you!

At Christmas we often had Ma and Pa, my dear grandparents from Texas, for a few weeks’ visit. The preparation for that visit was almost always overwhelming as we all scurried about cooking, mopping, vacuuming, dusting, pulling junk out from under the beds, straightening closets, scrubbing baseboards—cleaning places we hadn’t touched since their last visit. I just remember thinking, “Jeesh. This is no fun. I think I hate having company.”

Move ahead to my own home and my own children years later. Company’s comin’. The house is a mess, the light fixtures and mini blinds are caked in dust (I suddenly noticed), and good night, there’s mold growing in the bathtub grout! Time to crack the whip and raise my voice and bark orders to the kids and hope my adrenaline will carry me through all that needs to be done before we hear the doorbell ring. Then we can all stand in the entryway and smile sweetly at our guests—exhausted, sweating, and thinking once again, “This is not fun.” Sigh. So much for “Show hospitality to one another without grumbling” (1 Peter 4:9).

Several years ago, sensing something was just not right (duh) in my approach to hospitality, I began purchasing books about the subject, really good Christian books. I devoured each one of them, hoping for some magical cure for my rotten attitude about having guests in our home. All the books had great ideas and a plethora of tips for making hospitality easier—plan ahead, keep meals in the freezer, use simple recipes, keep up with the daily maintenance of the house so you aren’t embarrassed by unexpected drop-ins—all great ideas.

One book’s title really caught my eye: The Joy of Hospitality.1 Aah . . . that’s what I need, JOY, not all this self-centered stress and dread! But even that wonderful little book didn’t do much to transform my thinking on the matter. No matter how many tips I employed, I still did not embrace hospitality with joy.

In Hebrews 13:1–2, God gives us a command: “Let brotherly love continue. Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers.” It is in the context of letting brotherly love continue that God gives us this instruction to show hospitality. What better way to demonstrate God’s love than by inviting people into our homes? Hospitality is a means God gives us for the purpose of loving others. It is just that simple, just that beautiful.

Doing hospitality became much easier for me when I caught a glimpse of the warm and welcoming character of God in his Word. While teaching a women’s Bible study on the attributes of God, I learned there are many different names for the one true God. When I learned that Immanuel meant “God with us,” it quickly became one of my favorites. God, the Creator of the universe, desires to be with me. Wondrous truth! In Matthew 1:23 we read, “’Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Immanuel’ (which means, God with us.)”

God came to earth, as one of us and yet entirely God, to be with us.

We may ask the question, But why do we need God to be with us? The answer is simple. Our sin has separated us far away from him. The Westminster Shorter Catechism in Modern English asks the question, “What is man’s primary purpose?” The answer: “Man’s primary purpose is to glorify God and to enjoy him forever.”2 But since the fall of mankind in the garden of Eden, we have all rebelled against the Creator by sinning against him. We cannot glorify God and enjoy him if we are separated from him by our sin. All of man’s history has borne witness to restless creatures trying to find meaning in life apart from the Creator.

St. Augustine said, “Thou hast formed us for Thyself, and our hearts are restless till they find rest in Thee.”3 We need God because he made us to know him intimately—to find our rest, our home in him. And yet this sweet union cannot be ours apart from understanding Christ’s reconciling work on the cross on our behalf, repenting of (turning away from) our sin and embracing the unmerited gift of salvation. He paid the price for our sin through his death. He came to draw us back to himself, so that he could be Immanuel to us—God with us.

Irish poet, singer and songwriter, Thomas Moore, said, “Where there is room in the heart, there is always room in the house.”4 We first make room for others in our hearts because God made room for us. It was a costly sacrifice, this giving up of his Son to death on a cross—a lavish giving of himself. This knowledge, then, leads us to make room for others in our homes.

I recently came across a podcast of White Horse Inn in which Michael Horton interviewed author Kelly Kapic about his new book, God So Loved, He Gave. The discussion led to what it means to “imitate Christ” in a true biblical sense. They shared how the biblical texts that talk about imitation of Christ are in the context of imitating his cross. It is not only Christ’s life we are to imitate, but also his cross—a pouring out of ourselves to others. It means becoming an avenue of God’s grace—that as we live in God’s hospitality, we are able to live out hospitality to love and serve others. The cross is a symbol of death, of dying to self, and a giving up of everything in order to gift others with all that God has given to us. Demonstrating hospitality to others will be an exercise in dying to ourselves—our time, energy, creativity, home, and resources. When we realize that everything we own is not our own but has been given to us “on loan” from the Father, then we can give with greater freedom and joy. Hospitality is an imitation of both his death and his life.

In addition to God gifting us with eternal life through Christ, God says in his Word that he is preparing a place for us in heaven. He tells his followers in John 14:2–3, “In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also.” Isn’t that a wonderful thought? Imagine, God is preparing a home for us. He is the ultimate “homemaker”; and I picture it being a place far beyond what we’ve ever experienced here on earth—a place of rest, delight, rejoicing in the very presence of God himself —his nature and all his attributes filling up every corner of that place.

Also, God is not just preparing a home for us in the future. He has declared Himself to be a “home” for us right now. Listen to what he says in these verses (emphasis mine):

Lord, you have been our dwelling place in all generations. (Psalm 90:1)


He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty. (Psalm 91:1)

Be to me a rock of refuge, to which I may continually come. (Psalm 71:3)

O Lord, I love the habitation of your house and the place where your glory dwells. (Psalm 26:8)

. . . the Lord, their habitation of righteousness. (Jeremiah 50:7)


God settles the solitary in a...