I don’t have the gift of hospitality – it’s so natural for some people. It isn’t for me. I value efficiency and effectiveness. I like to have a list and get things done. Hospitality – planned or not – just seems to take too much time.
That’s why I am so struck by Genesis 18.
Abraham is a wealthy man with the responsibilities of a large household. There are deals to broker, land and livestock to manage, and hundreds of people to lead (Genesis 13:2, 14:14). After a morning of work, as the temperature rises, Abraham is settling in for a siesta when three strangers arrive outside his tent.
My gut reaction in this moment would be to roll over, turn off the light and pretend that I am asleep, saying a little prayer that they don’t ring the doorbell. But Abraham, ever more hospitable than me, “hurries out to meet them” practically begging them to stay so he can get them a little water and something to eat so they “can be refreshed” and then go on their way (18:5).
Abraham employs the help of his wife and one of his servants to prepare a feast (going above and beyond a little water and a snack). Then, he serves his guests – fresh bread, tender beef, cheese and milk – and stands just off to the side while the strangers dine.
But… Abraham’s guests aren’t the ones who are refreshed.
Abraham and Sarah have been waiting for more than 25 years to have a child of their own. God has called them to be a patriarch and matriarch of a grand family whom God would bless so that they can bless others. But, they have no kids. And now, they are too old (Genesis 17:17).
But this trio of strangers, who Abraham serves, comes bearing a message. As one says, “I will surely return to you about this time next year, and Sarah your wife will have a son” (18:10). The news was laughable, but the visitor remind them of the power of God. “Is anything too hard for the Lord?”
The act of hospitality did not merely refresh three strangers, it refreshed Abraham and Sarah. It refreshed the calling God put on their lives. It refreshed their divine purpose. It refreshed their hope in an all-powerful God.
When we extend hospitality, we re-engage with our divinely-given identity and call.
As the prophet Isaiah says about sacrifice to the Lord,
“Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter— when you see the naked, to clothe them, and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood? Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear; then your righteousness will go before you.
Isaiah 58:7-8
And in the words of Jesus,
‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’ The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’
Matthew 25:34-40
Hospitality is a gift – it’s so natural for many people. But for me, and for many like me, hospitality must be a discipline. It is a muscle that God’s people need to exercise to be reminded of our purpose and our God’s power.
Photo by Ronaldo Arthur Vidal on Unsplash
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