Why is extending hospitality so hard?

18 Dec, 2024

Hospitality is an invitation for us to become more like Jesus. So, why might we still be averse to it? Our Digital Marketing Manager, Claire, shares her take on what’s holding us back from being hospitable.

If someone were to ask me whether I’m hospitable, I would probably answer with a humble “yeah”.

I host friends in my home often. I love to cook for people. I try my best to ensure that none of my friends are excluded from my invitations. I’m hospitable.

Well, so I thought.

As a Christian, I believe that God is hospitable (John 14:2) and that extending hospitality is a key way that we can share His love with others (Matthew 25:35-36).

But what I often fail to remember is that we are called to extend it to strangers, just as much as (if not more than) we extend it to our friends (Hebrews 13:2, Luke 14:12-14).

This picture of hospitality that the Biblical story paints looks extreme and radical to my single, white, Gen Z female eyes. Not to mention, it couldn’t be further from my own lived experience.

Even though this truth feels like it’s firmly planted in my mind, my choices in everyday situations don’t seem to line up with what I think I believe.

The reality is that the idea of inviting a complete stranger into my home makes me feel uncomfortable to my core. And most of the time, I wouldn’t even contemplate doing it.

Would I loan my car to someone who needed it temporarily? The likelihood is slim to none.

And telling people where my spare key is? No way.

Why might this be?

I have three ideas.

1. We have lost the desire to share what we have

The economic landscape of modern day Australia teaches us that the acquisition of more wealth and possessions is the only way to be satisfied and successful in life.

‘The Australian dream’ is owning a home, having two kids, a nice car, and probably a boat (or two). If I’m honest, the Australian dream is my dream, too.

And when I picture what that might look like, strangers visiting (much less living) in that home doesn’t come to mind.

I don’t want to share my self-built oasis, because its purpose in my mind is to solely satisfy me (and my metaphorical future family). It’s not made for anything but my comfort.

Growing up surrounded by consumerism and a drive to do well in life (whatever that means) means that sharing doesn’t naturally fall on my agenda. It’s a principle that I have to actively cultivate – with a boatload (or two) of help from Jesus.

2. We can sometimes confuse discomfort with danger

Inner me comes up with a lot of excuses to avoid extending hospitality to strangers. If I were to tally these up, the winner would be that “it feels too dangerous”.

At the surface level, this makes a lot of sense. I am a single woman with the self-defense skills of a worm.

But if I dig a bit deeper, I realise that my fear in this space is not driven by danger – but by discomfort.

While some scenarios do present very real danger – and knowing the difference requires discernment and wisdom – in most cases, the only thing I’m really fearing is leaving my comfort zone.

Most of the time, opening my home to strangers isn’t actually dangerous – I’m just too afraid of leaving my happy bubble of established relationships and easy conversations to do it.

3. We have developed an inward focus

If I look at my other commonly used excuses, they all come back to one thing: I am focusing far too much on myself.

Things like:

“What if I make a fool of myself?”
“I’m too busy for this.”
“My house isn’t big enough to host people.”

All of which revolve around me, my needs, and my desires – and drive me to avoid doing the very thing Jesus has called me to do.

“Jesus replied: Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbour as yourself.'” – Matthew 22:37-39

Where does this leave us?

As I learn more about the value of extending hospitality – especially to those experiencing the loneliness and isolation that comes with financial distress – the more I want to participate in it.

The thing is, becoming more like Jesus isn’t a destination, but a journey. I wish there was a clear three-step plan that I could employ to ‘fix my hospitality problem’, but there isn’t (if I’m wrong, hit me up on LinkedIn).

While I expect this process of changing my worldview, desires and behaviour to take a while (potentially a lifetime), I take comfort in knowing that I have Jesus right by my side. And who better to help me than the Saviour of the world, right?

18 Dec, 2024

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