It was a typical evening coming home with my son.
It was a day that we were headed home just the two of us, my husband working a
late shift. As we approached home, the initial request came, "I want
to go see Alex." Alex is the high school freshman girl who lives across
the street from us and with whom my son is enamored. "Okay," I say,
"let's go home, put our things down, and we can go say hi for a few
minutes while dinner cooks in the oven." He agreed, and he very
cooperatively waited while I got out the fish sticks, sweet potato fries tossed
them on a cookie sheet and into the oven. I set a timer on my phone for a
couple minutes shy of the oven, and off we went across the street.
We spent a lovely 12 minutes in our neighbors'
home, he on the sofa chatting and watching some TV with Alex, me by the door
chatting with her mom. When my timer went off and I declared it time to
go home for dinner, he was ready. But we exchanged that "we should do
dinner sometime" thing that you do. You know that - you mean it, sort of. But when I got home, suddenly I was called to account.
"I want Alex to come over for dinner."
"Yes, sweetheart, I said we'd do that sometime
soon."
"NO. I want Alex and her family to come over
to dinner right NOW!"
I began thinking how unreasonable his request is. The
house is a mess; I haven't vacuumed up all the cat hair. Do they have
allergies? I only made enough fish sticks and fries for two, maybe with
preschool sized leftovers. Nate isn't home. I don't know what their dinner
plans are. I don't know what they eat.
I offer a perfectly reasonable alternative.
"How about Friday?" Yes, Friday is perfect. Several days to get
ourselves together. Nate will be home. No choir rehearsal or other things on
the evening agenda. Perfectly reasonable.
"But I want them to come over for dinner
TONIGHT."
Now, I know there was some typical preschool
impulsiveness at play here. But I was suddenly struck by the insistence for
radical hospitality that he demonstrated. I heard Gospel in my son's frustrated
words.
I actually stopped in my tracks and considered for
a moment: Isn't that what we're called to - relationship, in the here and now,
immediate? Isn't that part of what Jesus was trying to tell Martha when
she complained about her sister Mary not helping to get ready for the guests? Come. Sit. Be with people. Yes, it is important
to have food. Yes, it would be great if the floor was cleaner. But don't let it
get in the way of the relationship that is so much more important. Why also should I worry about the food? Did not the loaves and fishes multiply to
feed everyone the two times in the Gospel that the crowd needed feeding? When
we are together in Christ, there is enough to go around and all are fed. Fed
not only by the food, but by the gathering and the sharing of the
meal.
Jesus showed us how to invite anyone, everyone
to our table; tax collectors, fishermen, the poor, the rich, the sick, the
healthy, sinners, and saints. Jesus showed us how to sit with them; to be
with them. It is amazing how presence alone is healing. And, indeed,
Jesus invites all into his presence and to the table each Sunday morning.
So, why should a little cat hair in the carpet and
a handful of fish sticks stop me from inviting over people I already know a
bit? What's stopping me from showing a tiny fraction of the radical
hospitality that I've been taught?
 |
| Flowers from our neighbors. |
I failed that night. I failed as an example of
Christ to my son, and I failed my call. I heard it, but I ignored it and did
the "reasonable" thing. I invited them over for dinner on
Friday. My son was thrilled - he told everyone he saw on Friday about our
dinner plans. Our neighbors came, and we had a lovely time. Just the other
day, Alex's mom came over to deliver flowers in thanks for dinner. I'm glad we
had them over. I'm glad we were all there. It was a blessing and I hope I made
up for not following when first called.
I'm blessed that I'm forgiven, and that I have a
chance to try again anew.
So, what's your hospitality challenge? Do you have
a story of failure or success of your own? What tiny fraction of a difference
could you add to your faith journey? Add your thoughts below!
- Natalee Hill
(cross-posted to NataleeOnShuffle.blogspot.com)
