Thirteen people wedged themselves into a tiny college dorm room, sitting on beds, desk chairs, the floor, and eating spaghetti made in a hotpot. Nothing elegant here, nothing even pretty. It was bring-your-own- fork…and plate. What started as a meal for my roommate, me, and the girls from the room next door turned into a gathering. We didn’t think about how things looked; we just kept adding to the pot.

 
Thirty years later, thirteen other people from five different countries sat down to a sumptuous Thanksgiving dinner in my home. These two meals shared more than the number of participants. They shared a common heart, a heart with room for others.

In Western culture, hospitality is seen as an event. We invite people into our homes for a one-off meal or party, and everything must be perfect. We think we can’t show hospitality unless we have a spotless home, elegant dishes, and a gourmet menu. But in many of the cultures where we serve, hospitality is just part of life. Whether it’s offering a cup of mare’s milk or a handful of almonds, welcoming people is the norm. So, we find ourselves in a conundrum. We want to shine our Christian light through hospitality, but our Western conditioning makes us stress over the details. Plus, we’re sure we can never be as hospitable as those we’re reaching out to.

But what if we rethink hospitality? What if it’s more about giving people our emotional space than about how many seats fit comfortably around the table? What if it’s more about being present to the people I’m with than the presentation of a meal?

When Jesus came to Martha and Mary’s home, both women showed Him hospitality, each in her own way. Martha worked hard to honor Jesus with a good meal, which I’m sure He appreciated, but Mary was commended for sitting at His feet. Just sitting. Mary’s presence was the greatest honor she could offer. She showed Jesus hospitality with her rapt attention.

Perhaps that is the gist of hospitality: a heart with space to welcome the other person.