When God’s people are in need, be ready to help them. Always be eager to practice hospitality. [Romans 12:13 (NLT)]
As far back as you want to go in the history of God’s people, one of the duties of the righteous was hospitality—by which I mean the willingness to welcome people into your home who don’t ordinarily belong there. [John Piper]
In the ancient world, travel was dangerous and the nomadic people of Israel took hospitality seriously. It was the way to transform an unknown person (who might pose a future threat) into a guest and a friend. Hospitality was an integral part to many of the Old Testament’s stories. Both Abraham and Lot welcomed strangers into their home. Rebekah gave water to Abraham’s servant, watered his camels, and then offered food for the animals and rooms for the night. Rahab gave lodging and protection to the Israelite spies, Manoah and his wife fed the stranger who visited them, the widow of Zarephath gave her last morsel of food to Elijah, and the Shunammite woman provided food and a room for the prophet Elisha whenever he passed through Shunem. Abigail generously provided food for David and his band of men and David welcomed Jonathon’s crippled son Mephibosheth at his table as a way of showing God’s kindness.
The tradition of hospitality extended into the 1st Century. Matthew welcomed Jesus, the disciples, and his tax collector friends at his table. When Jesus sent out his disciples in Luke 9, he deliberately sent them out with no provisions and told them to depend on the hospitality of others as they travelled from town to town. Jesus probably stayed with Peter’s family when he was in Capernaum, both Zacchaeus and Martha welcomed Jesus into their homes, and a nameless man provided the upper room of his home to Jesus and the disciples for their Passover supper. Christian hospitality continued as the new church expanded. Paul and his companions stayed with Publius in Malta and Lydia in Philippi, Peter stayed with Simon the Tanner in Joppa, and John commended Gaius for his hospitality to Christian teachers.
Simon the Pharisee probably had a nicer home, more servants, richer food, and better wine than any of those other hosts but, when he invited Jesus to dinner, he was anything but hospitable. Although guests traditionally were greeted with a kiss, given a bowl of water with which to wash the dust off their feet, and offered some perfumed oil for their hair, Simon failed to extend any of these customary courtesies to Jesus. He may have addressed Jesus as “Teacher,” but the narrative makes it clear Jesus was there to be questioned rather than welcomed. There may have been a meal but there was no hospitality that night at Simon’s.
Unbeknown to Abraham, Lot, and Manoah, the strangers they welcomed into their homes were angels of the Lord. But, even if we never welcome angels in our homes, we may have men and women whose very presence is a blessing. Who knows? We may even turn a potential enemy into a friend!
We always treat guests as angels…just in case. [Jeremiah of Wallachia (1556 – 1625)]
This is the Lord’s doing, and it is wonderful to see. This is the day the Lord has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it. [Psalm 118:23-24 (NLT)]
Recently, long-time friends visited for a few days. They used to live across the street from us when we wintered in Colorado but, like us, their skis are long gone. The memories, however, are still fresh. As happens with old friends, we started reminiscing about blue bird days on the mountain, making first tracks down a slope of fresh powder, our favorite runs (for one person it was the “lunch run”), winter carnivals, and the people who made our mountain town so special.
The story is told of a Sunday school teacher who was teaching her class about the Ten Commandments. “What is the commandment about parents?” she asked. “Honor thy father and mother,” was the quick reply. “Is there a commandment about brothers and sisters?” the teacher queried. One little boy shouted, “Thou shalt not kill!” While we know we’re not supposed to kill them, how should we treat them?
Back in 2008, my husband and I joined others from our church to see Fireproof, a movie by Alex and Stephen Kendrick. It was about Caleb Holt, a firefighter, who’s urged by a friend and his father to hold off on getting the divorce to which he and his wife have agreed. Counseling him to fight for his crumbling marriage, his father gives him a Christian self-help book called The Love Dare and urges him to go on its forty-day challenge. Having nothing to do with the game “Truth or Dare,” the book dares Caleb to improve his marriage, not by changing his wife, but by changing the way he treats her. After completing the forty day challenge, Caleb continues changing his behavior and he and his wife eventually reconcile. As I remember, the movie ends with them renewing their marriage vows. Several months after seeing the movie, I spotted The Love Dare book while browsing through a bookstore. Whether the movie gave birth to the book or the book gave birth to the movie, I don’t know. In any case, I purchased it and, without my husband knowing, took on its 40-day challenge.
Every Thursday, my next-door neighbor has a standing two-hour appointment at the beach with a friend who lives about an hour north of here. Although marked on her calendar like a Bible study, committee meeting, doctor’s appointment, or book club, there’s nothing purposeful or especially important about their meeting. As she explained, the two simply meet to “catch up.” Unlike my neighbor, I’m more of a “let’s get down to business” than “let’s chat” type and, when I call or meet with someone, there’s usually a specific purpose for the contact. A few days ago, however, an old friend from our home town called for no reason other than to “catch up.” Neither of us had any important news; we just shared a little of what is going on in our lives. While the conversation accomplished nothing (and took me from my work), it was a much-appreciated blessing.