choose hospitality
On November 6, 2010 I tweeted the Most Regrettable Tweet of my
mediocre social media career. In anticipation of the holiday season, I
decided to weigh in on hospitality. The tweet was a flawless blend of selective
memory and self-righteousness, designed to heap condemnation on the heads of my
followers under the guise of offering wise counsel. It was a verbal “selfie”
snapped from my best angle, positioned to make me look very, very good. Let’s
have a look at it, shall we?
Note the double-whammy: if your house isn’t orderly on a daily basis,
you will withhold hospitality from others and
set a bad example for your children. Moms everywhere, be encouraged!
Three years later, I still cringe remembering that tweet, mainly because I have
failed to live up to it repeatedly ever since. I presume my house was clean on
November 6, 2010, but it has rarely been so in recent months. Even as I type, I
am looking out across a disordered landscape of scattered laundry, schoolbooks,
dusty baseboards and chipped paint. That tweet neglected to mention what my house
looked like when my children were small, how I would hide clutter in the dryer
when guests came, how hard I found it
just to get dinner on the table for my own family, much less for someone else’s.
So I regret that I proposed to moms a standard to which I could not hold
myself.
But more importantly, I regret that tweet because I have come to recognize
that the standard it proposed is flawed. It revealed my own lack of
understanding about the nature and purpose of hospitality. In my self-righteous
desire to offer advice, I had confused hospitality with its evil twin,
entertaining. The two ideas could not be more different.
entertaining versus hospitality:
what’s the difference?
Entertaining involves setting the perfect tablescape after an
exhaustive search on Pinterest. It chooses a menu that will impress, and then
frets its way through each stage of preparation. It requires every throw pillow
to be in place, every cobweb to be eradicated, every child to be neat and
orderly. It plans extra time to don the perfect outfit before
the first guest touches the doorbell on the seasonally decorated doorstep. And
should any element of the plan fall short, entertaining perceives the entire evening
to have been tainted. Entertaining focuses attention on self.
Hospitality involves setting a table that makes everyone feel comfortable.
It chooses a menu that allows face time with guests instead of being
chained to the cook top. It picks up the house to make things pleasant, but
doesn’t feel the need to conceal evidences of everyday life. It sometimes sits
down to dinner with flour in its hair. It allows the gathering to be shaped by
the quality of the conversation rather than the cuisine. Hospitality shows
interest in the thoughts, feelings, pursuits and preferences of its guests. It
is good at asking questions and listening intently to answers. Hospitality
focuses attention on others.
Entertaining is always thinking about the next course. Hospitality
burns the rolls because it was listening to a story.
Entertaining obsesses over what went wrong. Hospitality savors what was shared.
Entertaining, exhausted, says “It was nothing, really!” Hospitality thinks it was nothing. Really.
Entertaining seeks to impress. Hospitality seeks to bless.
Entertaining, exhausted, says “It was nothing, really!” Hospitality thinks it was nothing. Really.
Entertaining seeks to impress. Hospitality seeks to bless.
But the two practices can look so similar. Two people can set the same
beautiful tablescape and serve the same gourmet meal, one with a motive to
impress, the other with a motive to bless. How can we know the difference? Only
the second of the two would invite the
poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind to pull up a chair and sip from the
stemware. Our motives are revealed not just in how we set our tables, but in
who we invite to join us at the feast. Entertaining invites those whom it will
enjoy. Hospitality takes all comers.
why be hospitable?
Hospitality is about many things, but it is not about keeping a
perpetually orderly home. So, forgive me, Twitterverse, for my deplorable
tweet. I could not have been more wrong. And may I have a do-over?
Orderly house or not, hospitality throws wide the doors. It offers
itself expecting nothing in return. It keeps no record of its service, counts
no cost, craves no thanks. It is nothing less than the joyous, habitual
offering of those who recall a gracious
table set before them in the presence of their enemies, of those who look forward to a glorious
table yet to come.
It is a means by which we imitate our infinitely hospitable God.
So, three years later, here is my advice to myself as the holiday season begins: Forgo the empty pleasure of
entertaining. Serve instead the high-heaped feast of hospitality, even as it
has been served to you.