No Longer Strangers: The Practice of Radical Hospitality

As my kids grew up, we often invited people, both friends and strangers, to stay with us—usually for no more than a week or so.

Welcoming strangers–not what I expected

Because our church hosts international conferences, we have the opportunity to welcome people from around the world to our home, and have done so for the last 15 years. This practice of hospitality shaped me and my children in profound ways. I love having people stay with us, or gather at our table. But I dreamed of someday opening our home to people in a more radical way. What if we were to invite people to live with us for more than a week or two at a time? My youngest left for college a month or two after our dog passed away.

Welcoming strangers–not what I expected

Our nest fairly rattled, it was so empty. It took me a while to get over the shock, frankly. I wrote about how much an empty nest did not work for me , at all.

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But guests trickled through, joining us for meals or a weekend or a week-long conference. We began putting the word out, through conversations with other people and with God that we might be ready to welcome someone to stay in one of our vacant bedrooms. And slowly, people came to us, to talk about the possibility of staying in our home.

We extended that offer to a young woman, then to a young married couple, then to a woman about our age. I wanted to be that woman: I wanted to live my faith in the way Jesus invited me to in Matthew Opening your home is not for everyone.

Radical Hospitality | Linden United Methodist Church

It may seem strange to even consider inviting people to live with you. But I really felt that was what God wanted me to practice: But did we have the space, emotionally?

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And was radical hospitality limited to opening our home? Although my husband initially seemed enthused about having someone stay longer term, it soon became clear that he felt a bit of anxiety about it. His questions, his concerns—though not unexpected, seemed to point toward an underlying uncertainty.

An embrace of words

His job is busy, as always. But the main stressor: His parents are not aging gracefully. The past few months have been full of difficult conversations about their care, where we essentially go from one crisis to another involving them. Both of them have ended up in the hospital at least once in the past several months. They are not well. His parents are requiring more time and energy and emotional engagement than ever before.

What if your assignment for this season is to bring hospitality to people outside your home?

What if hospitality is visiting your father-in-law while he recovers in the rehabilitation center, listening to him complain and gently cajoling him to get out of bed? What it hospitality is doing some grocery shopping for your mother-in-law and sitting with her for 40 minutes while she explains the grocery list to you and asks ten times if you have the store discount card? We are creating space where they are cared for, fed, comforted.

We are inviting them into the space of our concern.

But the entire messy situation drains us both. We have talked about how, in some ways, his parents feel like strangers. And also like toddlers, who balk at accepting help and stubbornly tell us they can do it themselves. We are practicing hospitality outside of our home with my in-laws. And also in other places. This, especially in these times, is an act of radical hospitality. The beautiful thing is, it is they who offer me hospitality—offering me food and chai and shy smiles as we sit on the floor and break bread together.

I visit them, or take them to the zoo, or go for a walk, or just play with their kids. This mutual hospitality—I welcome them to my country, they welcome me to their home and table—has upended my understanding of this practice. I realize, over and over, how patient they are with my Americanisms, my lack of knowledge about their culture and faith. They have patiently answered my questions about their journey here, their faith, their family.

As Joan Chittister writes: Hospitality is the way we come out of ourselves. For you will be repaid at the resurrection of the just. Last year my husband and I received an email from friends asking if we would consider taking in a teen boy in need of a home. We had met him a few times, but still felt like we were only a few short steps removed from strangers.

As semi-transient twenty-somethings, the idea of settling into a commitment like that was daunting. And so, we prayed together, and we searched the Scriptures.

In the end, we decided to take a leap and just say yes. Neither of us were absolutely confident in the decision, but we were confident in the words of James—the words my parents spoke over me at my baptism almost ten years prior: Pure faith before God meant opening our home, even when we were uncertain. Pure faith meant saying yes.

And in opening our door to a stranger, God taught us new things we may not have learned any other way. In getting to know a smart, analytical young man, our lives were also enriched. What if our hospitality extended beyond friends and family to those in need around us? The new refugee family down the street, or your new classmate who seems to be having trouble adjusting? Let us in our hospitality seek to make space in our homes and lives for those who are struggling to carve out their spot in the world.

Let us lay down our defenses and allow people to not only bring their own brokenness, but to see ours as well. Let us give a kind and generous welcome to strangers, that they may be strangers no longer. You are commenting using your WordPress. You are commenting using your Twitter account. You are commenting using your Facebook account.

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