Last week, my husband and I visited some old friends. We met more than 16 years ago, having attended the same church. Our children grew up together, and we had done a lot of life together.
One of my earliest memories of being in that friend’s apartment was when I was expecting my second child. I struggled with severe hyperemesis, and many mornings in my first trimester, I would drop our 3-year-old at pre-school and spend the rest of the morning lying on her couch. She would make me Maggi (an Indian brand) noodles and chat with me while doing her chores. Both of us figured if I kept talking, it would take my mind off the nausea and morning sickness which plagued me.
This recent visit was to offer condolences to their family on her father’s passing. While we had intended to make a quick visit, she invited us to stay for dinner. So, while we heard stories about her father’s life and legacy, we also shared a traditional South Indian meal and a lot of laughs. We talked about our aging parents, the fact we were all now middle aged, our children growing up between two worlds, and the struggles we continue to face as immigrants, as Indian Americans, church life, and the challenges we had encountered in building our lives and homes in the United States.
We stayed talking until 10 pm, and even then, her husband offered to make us chai so we could stay longer. But it was late, and on the drive home, my husband and I discussed how easy our friendship was. Even though our paths don’t cross much anymore, we had built this history, and it was the kind of relationship where we could just be ourselves. We did not need to behave a certain way, avoid specific topics or hide any part of ourselves.
But as we drove home, we both knew it was not just the number of years that had gone into building this friendship; it was the time—hundreds of hours spent together building community, sometimes during inconvenient seasons when the children were young. We cleaned up and took out the trash during dinners when the kids were running around in pajamas, long lunches after church, and hours after Christmas pageant rehearsals. It was the kind of community one can build easily at immigrant churches.
Hospitality that Goes Deeper
This kind of community and hospitality is common in immigrant circles but hard to replicate in American, or even second-generation, culture. But not impossible.
When we think of hospitality, we often think of sharing meals or inviting people to our homes. The early church in Acts 2 practiced hospitality with not only shared meals but also shared finances and resources to support each other.
Sharing a meal is an excellent first step. Still, we must ask ourselves: when we entertain guests, do we gravitate towards people like us, or are we willing to be hospitable to those who are culturally, economically, politically, and even spiritually different from us? By practicing radical hospitality, we can learn from other cultures instead of imposing our traditions on them.
We need to diversify our dinner tables, but there are also ways to be hospitable as a church community.
1. What is my role?
If we want our churches to become more hospitable, we must start with ourselves. If we are the regular congregation members, we must introduce ourselves to the new family. Instead of gravitating to our friends at church, we can look for a new face and welcome them.
This is hard! This takes effort and prayer. Most of us will NOT want to do it, but we are the church. It’s up to each one of us to be welcoming, inclusive, and friendly. Ours might be the welcoming face that brings them back the following week.
2. Am I willing to feel awkward?
We have to be okay with being uncomfortable or awkward. It is a given. I often forget people’s names, which I’m not proud of. So, sometimes I will see someone I may have met before, walk up to them, say hello, apologize for forgetting their name, and repeat it a few times so I won’t forget. Most people are forgiving, and apologizing for your memory often starts a fun conversation. It’s never easy to chat with someone you barely know but do it anyway.
3. Be the connector!
A good friend calls me “the friend whisperer.” I believe she loves me to a fault, but I have started to embrace the natural networker in me. I have benefited from others who have introduced me to people who have become some of my closest friends. So, introduce people to others; maybe they come from the same town, went to the same college, or have children the same age.
Even if they don’t have anything in common, introduce them. You might end up creating a solid friendship. By connecting people, we are helping our church guests and modeling good relationship-building.
4. Build an inclusive community!
Invite the newcomers to join your small group. Once again, this is inconvenient, uncomfortable, and weird. But you are creating an opportunity to build history.
As an immigrant, I don’t have a shared history of collegiate life, sports, or growing up in the same town. So I appreciate those who have widened their circles to include my family and have created history with us.
And building history is complicated! Repeating your story is hard. But we have learned to be vulnerable and willing to share our stories. We have to be open to questions about our background and culture. So, let’s widen our circles and include those who are new. Being a clique is not cool.
Practice Practicing Hospitality
Hospitality is not something that we learn overnight. Most of the time, we learn it through practice. Hospitality helps discipleship to flourish simply because it requires letting go of our expectations and control. It requires laying aside our agenda and allowing others into our space. Whether it’s our home, sharing a meal, or changing our schedules, it requires putting aside our needs and welcoming the newcomers. It is sacrificial.
Radical hospitality can lead to a radical community. We learn from each other, and our faith grows. We encourage, share our needs, pray, and learn from each other. It is not an easy command, but we are called to be radically hospitable.
Luke 14:12-14 tells us, “Then Jesus said to his host, “When you give a luncheon or dinner, do not invite your friends, your brothers or sisters, your relatives, or your rich neighbors; if you do, they may invite you back, and so you will be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed. Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”
And by obeying Jesus’s words, we are living out the Gospel. Christ’s love for us must be the driving motivation behind our acts. Christ gave Himself up for us, so in the same way, we give of ourselves and welcome others with joy and love.