I am currently wrestling with the Holy Spirit about a prompt to have some of my neighbors over for dinner. In my little apartment building, everyone seems to be overwhelmed with sadness, conflict, and hardship. The idea of having them over for dinner sounds like the most awkward dinner party imaginable, and yet, hospitality isn’t about my comfort level, is it? It’s about welcoming people in so that they can experience the impartial, gracious love of Jesus.

I am quick to say that I love practicing hospitality. I love bringing people around my table, hearing their stories, helping them feel welcome and loved, and I love being welcomed to other people’s tables as well. The truth of it is, I like hospitality when I feel comfortable. I like offering up a space to my guests that feels worthy and lovely to me, and I like welcoming in guests that make me feel comfortable. I feel anxious when last-minute guests drop by, and I feel awkward when I have guests over that are very different from me.

You’ll notice in James’ letter that he doesn’t spend a lot of time talking about the importance of feeling comfortable in offering hospitality. Instead, he leans into the heart of hospitality issues – the issue of partiality and class. As Christians, we are not to make distinctions among our guests – they are all equally welcome to our tables because we are all equally welcome to Jesus. Throughout Jesus’ ministry, he consistently reached out to the outcast, the forgotten, the marginalized, the uncomfortable, the awkward, the unloved.

James’ call to impartial, earnest, gracious hospitality is a tall order. It is also entirely counter-cultural. What would it look like for us to trust Jesus with the discomfort and to ask for the ability to see past our judgment and fear? What if we asked Jesus to open our homes and our hearts to the people who need it the most and to equip us to minister to whoever comes into our home?