Last week I looked at the journey from Loneliness to Solitude, the first of the three movements towards spiritual growth outlined in Henri Nouwen’s inspiring book, Reaching Out. Today we look at the second transformation – a journey described by Nouwen as being from hostility to hospitality.
Perhaps like me, your first response to this invitation is a defensive, “No, I don’t think this one has anything in it for me. I’m not an aggressive person, and what’s more, I like a wide range of people (I genuinely do), and my natural posture towards others tends to be open not closed. In short, I think I can tick the ‘already achieved’ box on this one.” Fortunately our first response does not not have to be defining, and the more I have mulled this over the more I realise I still have some way to go.
There are many reasons we might not see another person well. I have previously written about the dangers of difference and distance, so soberly unpacked in the biblical story of Joseph, where his brothers sell him into slavery because his coat of many colours marked him as being different, while his father’s decision to keep him at home created distance between him and his siblings. If people seem a bit different and we don’t bump into them in any meaningful way, suspicion and hostility is often an automatic response. “You are not one of us” we quickly conclude, and when we view someone as being an outsider, it is only a short step to thinking that the respect, affection and concern we show to those in our circle, can be dropped.
Nouwen talks about providing space for strangers to “cast off their strangeness and become fellow human beings.” It is about spotting what we have in common, rather than what keeps us apart. It might take a bit of time, especially if our different cultural backgrounds means humour is not understood, and priorities seem to be different. It can take a while before we see how superficial these differences are.
At a time when many Christians are stridently insisting that Christians should be seen to be different to the prevailing culture, I wonder if this is a way we can do it. Loving the stranger is rather Jesus like – and it is counter cultural – especially at this perplexing time. After all, in Luke 10:25-37 Jesus weaves a story where the dreaded Samaritan is the hero of the day. Despite the “otherness” of being Samaritan, when confronted by a beaten and broken man on a lonely road, he immediately realised that love demanded that he stop and help. Others passing by had more compelling agendas. Their tasks seemed more important to them, so they hurried on to make sure they did not miss their appointment with trivia. It’s pretty counter cultural to love those who aren’t part of your circle. It’s challenging to tell stories where the supposed villain turns out to be the saint, and the home team is portrayed as mean and small. Jesus took that risk – and risk it was… certainly it impacted his poll ratings to the point where the majority cried out “crucify him crucify him”. We really don’t like it when people tell us to love our enemies.
There is a trickiness to this for Christians. Ironically, because we follow Jesus, we often divide the world into Christians and non-Christians. I grew up in apartheid South Africa. It was a society where people were classified as “white” or “non-white”. It’s both alienating and insulting to classify people as “non” something, especially if the thing that is getting all the nods of approval is what they are not. To be honest, I don’t know what to do about this. Following Jesus is a big deal and does make a real difference. If you think it doesn’t, it could be that it’s not Jesus you are following. Can we be genuinely open hearted and hospitable to those we consider to not have made the most significant and important decision of all – the decision to follow Jesus?
Actually, I suspect that is where the magic of Christian witness begins. If I am truely hospitable, I see what Jesus wants me to see. Here is someone originally made in God’s own image, loved by God, and having endless dignity and worth because of this. What is more, this is someone God has brought across my path – so of course I must be open to them. I look for what unites us – our common humanity, and celebrate this. I remember that I was once a seeker – and to be honest, still am – not because I think there is someone other than Jesus to be found, but because I want to know Jesus more deeply. There is a hunger that leads us into God’s kingdom, and there is a hunger that leads us on in God’s kingdom. We are probably both hungry for more. And yes, we have both made mistakes and need forgiveness.
Does that lead to words of witness and gentle persuasion to at least give God a chance? How can it possibly not? It is not my own life I am sharing if I let you into everything except that which matters most to me. And if you reject it… well love is not conditional, and we can still joke about the footie, and marvel at rainbows, and weep together over the dreaded C word, or tut tut over the price of fuel. And in God’s own good time – well actually it is up to God what God does in God’s own very good time.
For my part, I am called to journey from hostility to hospitality. That means I don’t lean in to “othering” stories that tell how awful “they” are. Actually, the more confronting “they” are, the more I ask that Jesus would open my eyes and heart, and that there would be a way to turn the enemy into a beloved friend.
Nice chatting…
Photo by Rumeysa Demir: https://www.pexels.com/photo/cups-of-tea-and-bread-on-the-table-8361923/
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