Hospitality: Making Prayer Real and Solid

By Rachel Ann Russell

One of the striking things about the Old Testament is the emphasis on proper hospitality, and the consequences of failures of hospitality. In the New Testament, Jesus remarked that “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head” (Matt 8:20) – home and hospitality and true rest are closely linked. With the holidays upon us, home and hospitality intertwine: are we home already and others are returning to us? Are we going home, and relying on someone else to give us a place for our head? The vulnerabilities run on both sides. The joy of reunion and the joy of connection runs rich and deep. The fear of painful encounters, reminders of past mistakes, prodigals who arrive only to take – these fears can be quite real and realized.

Yet, hospitality can be especially hard for us introvert people, because of the huge “Dickens–y” imagery surrounding and almost defining hospitality. Huge amounts of food, a gleaming home or better yet, ballroom, with the joyful noise of charades and dancing, copious amounts of wassail (whatever that is), everyone present cheerful and smiling and fun. Or think of the noisy Who’s in Who–ville and all their fun. If that’s only what hospitality really is, then that’s also a good description of one of the circles of Hell for an introvert, and hospitality feels impossible.

If that’s your idea of fun, go for it! Invite me but let there be a cosy nook around!

As always Jesus makes things simple: “…I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink” (Matt 25) and so forth. A true act of help, welcome, kindness can be a small act.

So hospitality can be one by one; simple as bread and water. What matters is learning the not–so–easy ability to really be with the person in front of you: your ailing father, your mother who is telling the same story again, your sister with her laugh (you know what I mean), your brother who gets jealous, your child who is pouting. Hospitality connects us anyway. Jesus in so many of the stories in the gospels had the amazing ability to be “right there” with whomever was in front of him, often to the dismay of his disciples. He was present for little children in the midst of preparing for the journey to Jerusalem; he was right there for a tax collector, he was right there for women, even a Samaritan woman, even a Gentile woman who asked only for crumbs.

So often I pray before my child comes home from school, “Jesus be with me and work through me, let me be present for my son.” I shift this prayer as needed. Being the sort of person who would rather just curl up and read a book, I need all the help I can get to connect with family, much less with the stranger!

Yet hospitality can also be very hard for extrovert people! Not just in focusing on the individual, in being present to each person at the party, but hard also in making sure that all those details – all those platters of snacks, all the spoons, all the coffee-cups – are clean, ready, and there when needed. Did the invitations go out on time? Is it going to snow? Where should people put their coats? My parents are very extroverted and all these practical details of hospitality are a gift they modeled to me. No last-minute rush to the store for my parents! Elijah always has a chair ready in my parent’s house, and so did the rest of us.

Yet this Martha-like practicality can take the extrovert away from being “present” with the guests. We can say that Jesus praised Mary for sitting while Martha did all the work; I think he was praising the attitude of “being present” and not criticizing Martha’s work itself. Jesus must have appreciated her food and her concern! If Martha’s attitude had been of being present, work becomes prayer. Think of prayer as something solid and visible: clean towels set aside for company, a clean bathroom, food and drink appropriate to myriad possibilities of food allergies and preferences, and so forth. This is prayer that you can touch.

Every December is a new opportunity to explore opening up and letting in, going out and receiving, of careful discernment, of making prayer something real and solid.

Here are some questions to ponder regarding hospitality:

• Fear can be a voice to listen to, not something to ignore. Boundaries can be wise. Who should you limit your hospitality to at this time?
  
• By “doing less” can you be present more to the people in your midst?
  
• Can organizing the details of the “feast” – the towels, the chairs, the drinks, whatever the details are in your celebration – become prayer for you?
  
• When was a time that you remember feeling warmly welcomed and cared for? What was happening at that time?
  
• Can you create a prayer or memory aide to being fully present with others that works for you?

This article is a response to Tiffany Montavon's reflections on hospitality which appeared in our e-Newsletter.

Rachel Ann Russell lives in Vienna, VA, and was a participant in our Make a Living, Have a Life groups. She is called to explore scripture in writing, poetry, and storytelling.