All tagged hospitality
I am a professional spiritual care giver, and it is an honor to provide that relational presence to folks whose condition often leaves them vulnerable and isolated. I have learned to honor family members' choices about how best to interact with their loved one. And occasionally, I have provided emotional support to those trying to cope with the grief that comes with having a family member suffering from dementia.
We are creatures of habit, myself included, but we can change our patterns. We can choose, like my elder friend, to be more intentional on Sunday mornings. We can pay attention to where we go, who we talk to, which classes we attend, and the patterns of behavior we exhibit. We can choose to become more intergenerational in our presence at church, and thus leave a different kind of wake.
To me, chaplaincy is the art of presence. It’s about stepping into the unknown, where the tapestry of life unfolds in unexpected ways. We arrive, often unaware of the stories that await us or the roles we will play. Yet we stand ready, like sentinels of faith, poised for the perfect moment to weave our threads into the fabric of the present.
As I reflect on the words “Let the little children come to me and don’t hinder them for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven” (Luke 18:15–17), I envision the golden gates of heaven being thrown open and little children everywhere running around with the purest joy you can imagine. Big smiles, no earthly ailments to hinder their physical abilities. I imagine the happiest moment in my life, but instead of just reliving that one moment, it’s a feeling that never ends. But today, this scripture has a whole different personal meaning when I hear it.
I was reminded in this encounter of how adaptable chaplains have to be on a daily basis. We show up for the crises but also the liminal space of the unknown. And where others see barriers, we often see an opportunity to build a bridge.
Whether it is a stranger needing shelter from the elements, a visitor needing someone to share a meal, or a newcomer needing community, resolve to be the one to welcome—even if you have to leave the comfort of your home and trudge through the storm to invite them in. Be purposeful about welcoming others, and plan to surprise someone with unusual kindness.
We’ve all had negative experiences with all kinds of organizations. Retail is one thing, but at church we simply can’t afford to accidentally send a message that says, “We don’t care if you are here or not.” Because Jesus wants to be in relationship with us, we are naturally inspired to be in relationship with others. That requires conversation and warmly welcoming new people.
When churches preach Jesus Christ, call people to discipleship, welcome all to community and shared life, practice hospitality and care for others, then churches continually find opportunities to live into a simple Christian witness.
In Unreasonable Hospitality, Guidara describes both his personal journey in the dining industry and how he developed his obsessive pursuit of being hospitable.
It’s so easy to think of others as our enemies. We can give in to the impulse to demonize, to withdraw, or to insult. What if we followed Polycarp’s example by finding ways to show hospitality?
Do your people know how to sincerely welcome guests? Even if they used to, the pandemic has altered how we interact with others, and they may have forgotten how.
Imagine that you are happily married at age twenty. What would you do if, by age thirty, you became widowed and penniless, and a parent to a dozen children?
Christ confesses in his Phil. 2 hymn that every knee that bows brings glory to God the Father.
In order to imagine ourselves in difference-making positions, we all need models in place, models who look like we do and who don’t all look like each other.
Radical hospitality calls us to ask ourselves what amount of our own preference might we be willing to sacrifice to create space for the perceived need of another.
Friday is National Lemonade Day, so buy an extra cup and share it in Jesus’s name, confident that it makes a difference for eternity.
Because of your protection, I sing. I stay close to you; your right hand supports me.
As the created world hosts humanity, we have much to learn from the soil, from the seeds. Stretching toward the light, cultivated hearts propagate God’s mission.
Everyone knows each other in rural towns, but I have come to know that there is a difference between knowing of someone and actually knowing them.
Inclusion means that the congregation embraces the inherent value in all voices and seeks to make them an active part of the whole.
