A Deeper Hospitality
When the first lockdown in 2020 was announced, part of me was a bit relieved. We had just finished a long stretch of houseguests plus the regular rotation of people visiting throughout the day, and my family was a bit tired. I looked forward to a break from a continually full house and enjoying time as a family and not tidying so often. But when it became clear that the lockdown was not a temporary pause of our regular activity but a long-term shut down, I grieved not getting to make meals for people I loved and those I just met and creating a thoughtful and welcoming space.
Hospitality has always been an important part of life for me and my husband, Ryan, so when we joined the InnerCHANGE Glasgow team in 2018 we knew hospitality would be a key feature of our ministry. We desired our home to be a place where people would experience the welcome, love, and presence of God, and we were blessed to create that kind of space for many people during our first two years of ministry.
After enjoying a couple weeks of rest in that infamous spring of 2020, I began longing for the day we could host again. But as I kept waiting, I could feel the desire of my heart clarifying into something deeper than hospitality, something more profound than welcoming someone into my home with a hearty meal or even providing a safe space for a meaningful conversation.
More than wanting to share my home, I wanted to share my life.
Not just the neat and tidy parts, but the broken bits still in need of the healing touch of Jesus.
Not just the stories with a happy ending, but the stories that are unfinished, unresolved, or didn’t end well.
Not just the answers but the questions.
I wonder if this is what Paul meant when he wrote to the Thessalonians:
Because we loved you so much, we were delighted to share with you not only the gospel of God but our lives as well. (1 Thess. 2:8)
This is the deepest, truest form of hospitality: using our homes as places where the transformative power of the gospel meets our brokenness and we together move towards Christ. We share our lives in such a way that the gospel moves in word, deed, and power, and as a profound sign of love that affirms the belovedness of each person.
Sharing your life doesn’t require grand acts or elaborate strategy. It does take a lot of openness balanced with wise and discerning boundaries. We can follow Jesus’ example not only as seen in his incarnation, but also in his rhythms of investing in his disciples, ministering to the crowds, dining at people’s tables, and getting away from all of it to be alone with his Heavenly Father. Jesus shared his life, but he knew where his limits were and where his true source of life came from.
As I reflected on our ministry in Glasgow, I was challenged to share my life in a more gospel-centered way, but also saw how I already have been sharing my life. Here are a few examples:
Bubbling households with a dear, single friend who is vastly different from us but needs us as much as we need her.
Inviting the child wandering aimlessly around our house to fold laundry with me while we chat about her day.
Saying, “Come on in!” to my neighbour even though the house is in a state -- and not apologising for it!
Replying, “I don’t know!” when my friend asks me a question about the passage we’re reading during our DBS (Discovery Bible Study).
Sharing how I’m actually doing when my teammate asks, “How are you?”
The pandemic has brought our brokenness to the surface, and as we re-emerge and come together, we all need someone to share our life with in a gospel-centred way; I know I do! There are countless ways to share your life, and how you share your life will be unique to the calling God has on you, but it will always come from a place of humility, grace, and love -- all signposts to the gospel.
