The gift of hospitality.

written by Julie R. Neidlinger      4 comments      link this post     


::Part of this was in an email I wrote to my parents, regarding my difficulty in finding an apartment or other housing after my initial plans went sour.::


The Bible is filled with passages talking about taking in the stranger. God's own people were strangers and refugees. I got to thinking about my current situation (no place to stay as of yet), and how much I don't like asking people for help; it made me think of the passages in the Bible regarding hospitality, and how the disciples and Jesus had no home and relied upon people putting them up.

I wonder if that would happen today?

The American ideal is that God helps those who help themselves; our general state of hospitality can be keenly seen in our dialog on immigrants and others having a difficult time making it. Immigrants are fine if they can pull their own weight. We'll send money to help the refugees somewhere in Africa, but damned if they start coming over here and not learning our language or becoming like us. "Those people" can go to Lutheran Social Services or some other government agency to get help; that's what they're there for. I've heard that many times. It's echoed, in a softer version swathed in some sort of Biblical apologetic, by many Christian and right-wing leaders.

Build soup kitchens, homeless shelters, group housing. Put them there.

But not in my home.

My home with ample space, where I have all my stuff that I like just so. Don't ask me to give up my good stuff; I'll give you the old stuff I don't want anymore.

Romans 12:13 says hospitality is something that must be practiced, which suggests it doesn't come easily or naturally to our greedy, selfish natures.

I know that after 29 exchange students through the years of growing up, I was tired of sharing my clothes and shower and bathroom and time with these guests, though I hid my reasons for wanting my parents to stop hosting them in much more diplomatic and reasonable language. Essentially, I grew tired of practicing hospitality, for hospitality requires relinquishing personal space, my stuff, my time, my rights, my habits, and my comfort for the sake of another. It requires efforts at making conversation and attending to needs and not expecting a return. Hospitality can be dangerous; you don't know what might happen when you invite people into your home. Hospitality isn't just helping out your close friends and families, but involves the stranger or the one in need. And, it requires humility enough to ask for and accept hospitable help, and the generosity enough to keep offering it above and beyond what our culture tells us "is enough." This is hard work, and must be practiced.

To my parents, in an email this morning, I wrote:

It is starting to seem that people will say "let me know if you need any help" but when they are pressed for something that would inconvenience them, they put limits on that. I was thinking about how you guys gave George* and his family a house for a year when things weren't looking good for them, and let them have their dog there and everything. Repeatedly, you have gone out of your way to help people with furniture, money, clothing, housing -- even helped people move. Rarely was it convenient. Yet that isn't the normal behavior of people. I guess it's a good lesson to learn, the contrast of the two behaviors.

My parents have been excellent examples to all of us kids in regards to what hospitality looks like. Often, we shake our heads and tell them they are being too patient or too lenient, or getting to involved. Yet, I can see as I look back, that being generous is not the problem. Greed is.

And it is greed, a greed of convenience and space and autonomy and personal ease. A desire to be accountable or answer to or be required of no one.

People are so lonely and unhappy in our "independent" and self-removed lifestyle in the West -- we have our own space and our own stuff and it's very little hassle if it stays that way! -- but we don't see how it makes us unhappy in our greed, or creates selfishness. We make excuses as to why helping someone wouldn't work or wouldn't be a good idea because it would mean someone would intrude on our comfort level. "They got into this mess. They can get out. It'll be a good lesson," we might say, and it sounds good and responsible and very much like tough love. "It's time they took responsibility."

We offer to help but make sure it is help that doesn't require much commitment or undue loss of time or resources. What we don't understand is that, not only would it be good for us to go out of our way and "responsibility" to help someone in the long run, but it is required. The Bible doesn't suggest we be hospitable. It tells us to be hospitable. It does not tell us to tell people that it is their responsibility to take care of themselves. We are to take care of each other, as God has taken care of us.

Matthew 25:35 is often used for reasons to help the poor and needy, but lest we get locked in our minds that the poor and needy are a certain set of people, we need to remember that the poor and needy can come in many forms and fluctuate from previous states. Two weeks ago, for example, I was not needy. I did not need a place to stay. Today, at this moment, I do. This passage, however, addresses more than just the person who needs food or clothing. It says: "I was a stranger and you invited me in."

One thing I appreciated about Shane Claiborne and the things he promotes in his writing, is this very unusual idea (in the western culture mainly, not most of the rest of the world) of serious hospitality. When he travels for speaking engagements, for example, he asks to stay in the homes of the people of the church he is speaking at, and not in some impersonal hotel. I'm sure some people would rather not be bothered, and it would be easier to relegate the stranger to a hotel.

I understand Claiborne's personal policy on many levels. I am tired of impersonal hotels. I've stayed in enough of them in my meager travels over the years, and I don't get a lot of joy out of staying in them anymore. It's not exciting. I am starting to understand and appreciate what Claiborne is trying to say about hospitality and relationships and community.

Whatever the case, my little experience is a good reminder to be hospitable and helpful all the time, not just when it's easy, and not just to throw the words around suggesting you'll help but not follow through. It is difficult for me, not because I don't want to help, but because I am shy and have a fear of offering to help and being rebuffed.

My experience has been mild. A week in duration. I have a computer for communication and family that checks up on me. If all else fails and I can't find a place to stay for my 3 months of class, then I will simply have to end the instruction and go back home and try again some other time. It's all easy enough -- I, at least, have a home somewhere.

Just not here.



*Name has been changed.

Labels: essay, family, relationships, religion, summer 2008

Copyright (c) Julie R. Neidlinger  6/11/2008 10:26:00 AM   (4) comments   Links to this post    

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