on hospitality

Our lone winter group week has just concluded on a sunny, bitingly cold January day. The house is clean and bright and empty, the driveway uncrowded. I am tired, but full of thoughts to capture in words.

One of the volunteer-planned prayers this week was about hospitality, with readings from a book about the Benedictine tradition specifically. It made me look back and realize how important, though often unspoken, the value of hospitality is and has been in my life as a Christian. Hospitality was a major part of community life for Chicago Cap Corps last year; it seemed like there were friends visiting at least twice a month, and there was Saba too, who became a fourth member of the community in many respects. Sometimes I would be tired or not in the mood for visitors, of course, but I never regretted taking people in afterwards. It is a joyful and life-giving thing to welcome people into one's heart and home, and that book this week gave me a much-needed reminder.

Our ministry here at Bethlehem Farm is in many ways an embodiment of hospitality as well - with the volunteers, of course, but also with the homeowners we serve. It is perfectly possible to do good works with a closed heart, without letting the doing change you. I am often guilty of that myself: doing repair work on a home without any real interest in the homeowner's life; working with volunteers without feeling any urge to get to know them, and so on. I am afraid, maybe, of letting people into my life and making it messier. But now that I recognize that tendency, and how it is contrary to hospitality, I hope to do better.

Hospitality at its core is a recognition of the dignity of each person you meet, a recognition of Christ in them. It is an openness to giving and receiving. A home is a sacred place to its inhabitants, so perhaps you cannot truly welcome another person into your home without also inviting them into your heart.

When I first moved here, I found it a little awkward to give our "Welcome Home!" hugs...but I think I am starting to understand the full depth of that simple message, and how important a welcome is. It's a full-circle sort of neatness, that I realized all of this because of a group week prayer. I'm finding that group weeks are a time of spiritual renewal and reflection for me, even if they are physically exhausting.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: I love my job.