Cultivating the Fruit of a Hospitable Life
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What does it mean to become more like Jesus?
There’s a simplicity to the idea of walking in Christ’s footsteps. But just because a thing is simple, it’s not necessarily easy. What Jesus’ life means for you and me of the 21st century can be a challenge to understand and live into.
In our efforts — or even our rush — to model Christian lives, we often fall into performance, dressing ourselves in the fruit of a holy life rather than allowing God’s grace to cultivate the growth of a faithful life.
There is a reason it’s called “the way.”
“But Jesus said to him, ‘I am the way, the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father but through me’” (John 14:16).
A way is a path. When it comes to the salvation, redemption, and renewal of all things, Christ is that way. How we move through the world while we’re on the way is how others will experience Christ. It’s less about accomplishments, less about how we look, and more about how God’s grace is working through us while we move toward one another in love.
That’s where hospitality comes in.
What Is Hospitality?
If you have ever crossed cultures, you understand what a gift it is when someone from the host culture receives you, invites you into their home for tea, or switches to your language to offer you directions. Such acts aren’t necessary, and usually an inconvenience for them. But for you, their choice to switch gears, to get on your level, to communicate to you that your questions and your confusion are okay with them, can become a lifeline for you.
If this is true for those crossing cultural, social, or physical borders, imagine its importance for those coming to spiritual crossings?
Henri Nouwen once described hospitality in Reaching Out: The Three Movements of the Spiritual Life in this way:
“Hospitality means primarily the creation of free space where the stranger can enter and become a friend instead of an enemy. Hospitality is not to change people, but to offer them space where change can take place. It is not to bring men and women over to our side, but to offer freedom not disturbed by dividing lines.”
Hospitality is an unassuming presence. It’s bringing grace into a space for what others may not yet know or haven’t yet considered. It does not burden the other with conditions for belonging. It frees the guest from any expectations that may become oppressive.
How We Can Practice Hospitality
People who take Jesus seriously ought to take hospitality seriously, for we see it in the way he received others in Scripture. At the time of Christ’s life, what it meant to belong to God’s people was saddled with burdens by Israel’s religious leaders.
As Jesus once described the Pharisees and teachers of the law, “They tie up heavy loads and put them on men’s shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to lift a finger to move them” (Matt 23:2-4).
Christ came walking in a different story, offering a different load.
“Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matt 11:28-30).
Jesus modeled a love of people that understands and honors God’s design and desire for what makes them flourish.
Notice that Jesus doesn’t say we won’t have burdens. Rather, we see a difference in the type of burdens we ought to carry. There is a kind of burden we were made for.
Christ’s burden involves faith — a hope of things not seen. To live with faith, and the burden of hope, is a vulnerable thing.
“A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out…” (Matt. 12:20).
Christ knows that honoring and guarding this spark of faith is the work of ministry, for which hospitality is key.
By looking closely at how Jesus engaged others without angst, with peace and openness, leaving behind a pleasing fragrance, Christians will be better equipped to engage a skeptical and bruised world.
The Blessings Hospitality Makes Possible
God’s world was made to grow.
From the very beginning, when light sprung from darkness and a universe began to unfold, the work of God’s Spirit resulted in abundance that doesn’t stop. Creation grows, expands, spills over. God’s handiwork makes it clear that his heart is for fruit that comes from cultivation.
He’s always been about pouring out more and more of his goodness, not keeping it to himself. Part of his plan for the giving of his goodness — and ultimately himself — is in partnership with us, mere humans.
We see from God’s instructions to Adam and Eve that he wants his people to be a part of that cultivation, co-laborers in multiplying his blessing throughout all of Creation as testament to His beauty, a kind of goodness we might taste and see, through which we come to know him more, and what he delights in.
“God blessed them and said to them, ‘Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky and over every living creature that moves on the ground’” (Gen. 1:28).
In the same way that the natural world was designed to grow through nurturing and careful cultivation, so are the people God has put in your way.
When Christ said his final words to his disciples, he left them with a charge — also known as the Great Commission — to go and make disciples of all nations.
But this commission isn’t possible without a strong commitment to hospitality by the disciple-makers.
We daily encounter others who are find themselves in different places along the path to Christ, or spiritual maturity. People only truly grow when met with a space, or a presence, that is made hospitable by a spirit of invitation, welcome, and grace.
Can you think of a time when you felt utterly safe and welcome? Such places or people can be hard to find. But being welcoming to one another, kind and gracious with our words and intentions, cultivates space where complicated, wounded, and searching people feel safe to bring their hard questions. A hospitable spirit opens the door to true connection, and the makings of truly life-giving community.
Photo credit: Unsplash/Mantas Hesthaven
Sarah E Martin is a sister, aunt, daughter, and sometimes a globe trotter. She has a background in English literature, and a devotion to good tea. When she’s not writing or studying, she is attempting to learn the names of her backyard birds, or planning long, unhurried walks in her favorite places. She believes that Jesus is the answer to bringing all our stories together, and is the one who satisfies our ache for home.