hospitality

Go Ahead And Throw A Party: Being A Hospitable Christian

Do not neglect hospitality, for through it some have unknowingly entertained angels. (Heb. 13:2)

So you’ve scrubbed and polished, cooked for days, attacked every last dust bunny and made sure that even the basement looks presentable. You are ready for company.

You are also exhausted.

Many of us believe that our house has to be up to Martha Stewart-standards in order to have company. Some of us would never make a spontaneous invitation after church: “Come on over and have coffee! We haven’t see you in months.” We end up either rarely inviting people into our homes, or we are so exhausted by the preparations we cannot enjoy the presence of friends.

St. Benedict (c. 480-c. 547), despite the fact that he was a monk (most monks take a vow of silence), knew that hospitality was an important Christian attribute. He believed this so strongly that he made it a part of the Benedictine Rule, the “guide book” if you will, of the Benedictine orders.

Keep in mind that monasteries were often safe places for travelers to stop and rest. Lay people would also visit monasteries for spiritual guidance. Even though the monastery was “home” for monks and nuns, whose primary work was prayer, the monastery frequently had visitors. The Benedictine Rule was very clear about how visitors were to be treated. They were to “be welcomed and received as Christ.” No distinctions were to be made based on wealth or status. Guests were to be invited to share in the monastic life, a rhythm of prayer, work and service.

That’s all well and good for monks, you might say, but what about me? I’ve got a job and three messy kids and a dog that sheds, and I’m not that great a cook and have you see the dust in my house? How am I supposed to be hospitable?

Jack King, an Anglican priest in Tennessee, praises what he calls “scruffy hospitality.” Like so many of us, he and his wife would say, “You know, we should have so-and-so over,” but the list of things that needed to be cleaned, prepared and cooked for that to happen meant the invitation never gets extended.

[I]viting friends into our lives when we are only ‘excellent’ isn’t friendship. Sure, there are still times we like to go all out, spruce up the house and cook a huge, Jamie Oliver style meal. It can be fun and it’s enjoyable to do things well. But that standard of excellence is rarely possible with two children under the age of 3. Friendship isn’t about always being ‘excellent’ with one another. Friendship is about preparing a space for authentic conversation. And sometimes authenticity happens when everything is a bit scruffy.

King was so convicted about this idea, he preached a sermon on it:

Scruffy hospitality means you’re not waiting for everything in your house to be in order before you host and serve friends in your home. Scruffy hospitality means you hunger more for good conversation and serving a simple meal of what you have, not what you don’t have. Scruffy hospitality means you’re more interested in quality conversation than the impression your home or lawn makes. If we only share meals with friends when we’re excellent, we aren’t truly sharing life together.

Don’t allow a to-do list disqualify you from an evening with people you’re called to love in friendship.

What we are dealing with here is pride. It is one of those oh-so-common-yet-deadly sins. We want people to be impressed. We set an impossible standard, because we don’t want to be embarrassed. Scruffy hospitality calls for a casserole, wine, music and a great big pot of humility.

Do not miss out on friendship and the making of memories because of pride. Invite folks in: into your home, into your heart and into the fellowship of Christ.

welcoming

5 Ways Your Parish Can Be More Welcoming

For many Catholics, our parish is our second home. We worship there, we socialize, we lift each other up in prayer. We sing in the choir or serve on the parish picnic committee. Our kids go to Vacation Bible School and religious education. Yep, it’s a very comfortable and welcoming place.

Except when it isn’t. If you’re new, it can be strange. There are no familiar faces. Where is the nursery? Where is the bathroom? Do I really want to stick around for coffee after Mass if I don’t know anyone?

We need to work all the time to make sure our parish is welcoming. We can’t hold a “new parishioner” coffee after Mass once or twice a year and call it good. Remember, we Catholics belong to the Universal Church. That means any Catholic Church in the world is “our” church, and we should never feel unwanted or unwelcome. Here are 5 ideas to help make your parish more welcoming.

  1. Make sure your greeters actually greet people. Sometimes, our greeters forget that what they are doing is absolutely vital to parish hospitality. Open the door as people walk in. If they know the person, greet them by name. Say, “Thank you for joining us today. We’re glad you’re here.” It may not seem like much, but a couple of friendly faces as a person walks in goes a long way in making someone feel “at home.”
  2. No “stink eye.” It’s one of the hardest things for parents. They are trying to teach their young children how to behave at Mass, only to be given the stink eye by someone in the pews around them. Kids are kids. They are going to be squirmy. They will talk when they are not supposed to. However, short of a screaming fit or something equally disruptive, children must be welcome in church. If you see a dad struggling in the pew next to you, whisper a word of encouragement: “You’re doing just fine.” Offer to hold an infant while Mom gets an unruly preschooler under control. Even a warm smile is encouraging. The best way for parishes to thrive and grow is to make sure young families are welcomed.
  3. Move over. When the pews start to fill up, move over. Don’t make the elderly couple crawl over  you and your three kids to get into the pew. Yes, everyone sort of has “their” spot, the place they like to sit. But, honestly, does it make any difference? You hear the same homily if you’re sitting in the middle of the pew or the end. Of course, sometimes there are legitimate reasons to sit at the end; for instance, there is an older person with a cane or walker that needs that space on the aisle. If you can, though, move over. And be cheerful about it.
  4. Make parish registration a truly welcoming experience. (This one is for the parish staff.) If you are new to the area, and you head over to the church to register, it is incredibly disheartening to be handed a piece of paper to fill out and a box of contribution envelopes and be sent on your way. Sit down with the person or family. Tell them they are welcome. Have they been away from the church? Ask if they have any sacramental needs (a baby that needs to be baptized, or a marriage that needs to be validated, for instance.) See if they have any questions, not just about the church, but the area, if they’ve just moved. A welcoming gift is great: a parish directory and a crucifix are always nice.
  5. Work hard to make single people and those without children feel welcome. Let’s face it, most families with children find a way to fit in. They start to meet others with kids in the same grade as theirs, or they volunteer for the religious ed. program. A young mother can join the weekly Bible study. But it can be much harder for single adults or those without kids to find their place to “fit” in a new parish. Encourage them to share their gifts and talents: lectoring, joining the choir, or helping with hospitality after Mass. Even sitting down with them after Mass over a cup of coffee and taking the time to introduce yourself is a wonderful and welcoming gesture.

Being a welcoming, hospitable parish takes work. Yet, when every member of that parish takes responsibility and does their part, a church really does feel welcoming to that new parishioner, a visitor or stranger. Most of all, it is an imperative of our faith to be welcoming: “Do not neglect hospitality, for through it some have unknowingly entertained angels.” (Heb. 13:2)