This week’s blog comes from Martyn Casserley (or rather, Martyn Casserole as autocorrect would have it….)
Hospitality can be a somewhat misused term.
For many it conjures up the image of hosting dinner and inviting round those with whom you wouldn’t normally spend your weekends. Now, there’s nothing wrong with this, and personally I think we should do a lot more of it, but we need to be careful that we don’t enshrine the idea of hospitality as an event where, hopefully, everyone has a great time and goes home around 5pm. That would kind of be missing the point.
Maybe a better term would be sharing.
Back in my heathen days, before the long haired technology-hippy guise that I wear now, God saw fit to arrange that I ran into a bunch of born-again Christians who would have a profound effect on my life. They did this not through wise exposition of biblical truths, miraculous wonders, or tremendous breads, but instead by the simple act of sharing their space, time, and sense of fun. One of the first things about them that struck me, apart from a distinct lack of interesting T-shirts, was the way they all seemed to be in and out of each others houses and lives. In fairness a few of them shared a place, so that made it easier, but there was always others popping round, and as someone who was new to this community it was very easy to fit in and not feel awkward because I wasn’t the only ‘outsider’.
We would hang out at a weekly pub quiz, and I could turn up if I wanted to, or not, but I knew there would be people there if I went. We played football together in the park, watched DVDs, went to the cinema, had take-aways or frequented (cheap) restaurants, but all in an ad-hoc manner that often happened out of boredom, or just wanting to spend time with others. The real strength of the group though was that it didn’t need everyone to always be around. Some of us would do something, while others would stay home, work, or do their own thing. It spread the load, and meant there was pretty much always someone to hang out with. No one carried the weight, no one got burnt out, and we all had a lot of fun.
Yes, it was a little idyllic. None of us had kids, spouses, or demanding careers to maintain, but the spirit of it had a tremendous effect on me. Around four or five years later I eventually went to their church, and God pretty much zapped me there and then. I gave my life to Jesus, and found that I had a ready made group of friends in the church, and they introduced me to families who invited me over for food, further increasing my sense of belonging to a family, rather than an institution.
It’s amazing what the power of an open door can do for those who are lost and looking for community in a city that can be a lonely place. Never underestimate how special and unusual it is to encounter a diverse and loving group of people, ones who are happy to let you join in on the fun. Just make sure we share the load as well as the love.