“Aren’t you afraid?”
My practice of welcoming has often prompted people to ask that question.
That may seem odd, if you think of welcoming (a.k.a. hospitality) in the way that our culture defines it—entertaining friends, having people over, maybe hosting relatives or good friends for a night or two in our guest room. Certainly these don’t require courage.
What if hospitality is so much more? Welcoming, as a spiritual practice, has the power to transform us, the power to draw us closer to God, the power really to change people’s lives, including our own.
Take a moment to reflect. As we ease into a new year:
What are you longing for?
Is this a year you’re hoping your faith will grow?
Are you hungry for more of God?
Jesus said that when you welcome others, it’s as if you are welcoming him. He wasn’t talking about dinner parties (though he was known to enjoy a meal with friends). He said, “For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in.” (Matthew 25:35)
There’s nothing wrong with entertaining friends. Gathering close friends in my home has always brought me joy. But Jesus is pointing us clearly to a way to experience divine presence in a tangible way. It involves getting out of our comfort zone to come alongside people in need.
Because welcoming can be so much more than entertaining. And when we venture into that “more” we discover things that might make us a little bit afraid, but ultimately, build our trust in God. They make us brave.
As I wrote last week, this month’s theme is brave. Welcoming strangers, going out of our way to provide food, shelter or other resources to those who cannot reciprocate (at least in ways we might typically think of) requires us to be brave. By brave I mean focused on something other than our own insecurities and fear. Taking small steps toward courage makes us even bolder.
Where is God perhaps inviting you to take a step toward welcome that might require you to be brave? To venture out of your comfort zone just a little?
For example, a group of 17 churches in Chicago are practicing biblical hospitality by taking in migrants who have been bused to the city by border states. The city’s resources are overwhelmed, people are sleeping outside or on police station floors. These churches stepped up—to welcome them but also to help them find housing, jobs, and get on their feet. See the story here.
Simple steps to welcome others
When my husband and I have welcomed strangers from around the world to stay with us for a few days (or a few months), well-meaning friends asked if we were scared they would rob us or damage our home. (They didn’t.)
When I used to make a monthly trek to one of the poorest neighborhoods on Chicago’s west side to serve breakfast at a homeless shelter, some friends gladly came along. We’d scramble eggs, flip pancakes, then sit and talk with the women who lived at the shelter, holding space for their stories. Our goal? Meet the hunger of their bodies with food, and the hunger of their hearts with simple presence. We experienced joy doing it, but others thought this odd type of hospitality sounded dangerous and even foolhardy.
When we agreed to host our son’s high school youth group every Sunday afternoon during his senior year, a lot of people thought we were brave, or maybe just nuts. But sharing that hospitality practice with my son at that stage of his life was a wonderful experience that made both us and him stronger and opened us up to more adventures in welcoming.
When we took in two toddlers (through Safe Families) to live with us while their mom was in rehab, some friends thought I was not just brave but really crazy. It was a chaotic two weeks and a challenging assignment, but it grew us as a family.
When I befriended a family of refugees (through Exodus World Service) and made a habit (still going strong) of visiting their home and eating with them, several people asked, “By yourself? Aren’t you scared?” because this family happens to be Muslim, and my well-meaning but misinformed friends thought this family would be dangerous to me just because we don’t share the same faith heritage. One friend informed me that he “knew” that all Muslims are “required to kill Christians.” Seriously? It had to be true, he read it on the Internet. I told him that the two-year-old was so far, only interested in giving me hugs and having me read stories. This family regularly tells me how much they love me. They welcome me with chai and chocolate, or sometimes invite me to share a meal with them. The parents in this young family are the same age as my grown children, so they consider me their American mom, and grandma to their children. I welcomed them to the U.S., and they welcome me to their home.
I do not feel “brave” going to spend time with my Syrian adopted family. After seven years, I feel only quiet joy and love—because that’s what happens to our fear or uncertainty when we keep showing up and welcoming others. Our fear is transformed. It doesn’t just melt away, it is literally changed into love. I sometimes grieve over their struggles, many of which I cannot fix, but simply showing up has changed me as a person.
Welcoming as practice, not performance
This newsletter aims to create a space to talk about welcoming and wandering: that is, offering hospitality (in perhaps some unexpected ways) and receiving hospitality (by traveling). You are welcome here! Both these practices can transform us, take us on spiritual pilgrimage. It begins with seeing them as practices in the first place.
As I have written in this space before, when I use the word “welcoming” I am talking about the spiritual practice of hospitality—which at its heart (and in the biblical tradition) is the welcoming of strangers. It might happen in your home, but it might happen in a public space, or someone else’s home. It’s not entertaining, although it may include offering a meal. It’s a practice, not a performance.
We welcome others because we have been we have been welcomed by God. Your relationship with God was initiated by God. When we are motivated by what we’ve received, rather than who we hope to impress, we begin to experience the transformative potential of welcoming.
That doesn’t mean you need to exclude your friends from the circle of your welcome. In fact, we’ve often found that a blend of friends and strangers around the table makes for some very interesting conversations.
Our holiday gatherings, for example, typically include some family members, but also some folks who are new to us. I remember one Thanksgiving where we blended my husband’s family with a friend who was a single mom of two boys. She asked if she could bring two extra teenage nephews, and of course we just set more places at the table. It was a beautiful day.
How can you take a step toward brave welcoming?
Start with intention and prayer. When I have simply asked God to bring me opportunities, they have always come.
Leave a comment about what brave steps God is stirring you to take, or questions for our Welcoming and Wandering community.
Thanks for sharing your brave stories of welcoming others.
A.S. Came into my life a 6 months ago. They are queer and said that people like me scared them. I think it was because my husband and I look so well put together. I knew they suffered from anxiety and depression so I shared my current story of dealing with the same. It changed our relationship and last week they asked if I would help them study for the GED exam. What a blessing this person has been in my life and to feel the trust that has developed. I just needed to be vulnerable which can be frightening but this time it wasn’t.