Hospitality

I received this as a weekly meditation from henrinouwen.org and boy did it strike me as true. I've been thinking a lot about hospitality lately. I don't see myself as a hostess. If you come to my house I often forget to ask you if you'd like something to eat or drink, but I would not be offended if you asked or better yet, helped yourself. But I will always be thrilled that you're here! I will want to sit and talk and hear all about what's going on in your life. I can make a pot of coffee but I might forget to pour you a cup. Now, Geoff, on the other hand is a perfect host. He thinks of all that stuff. I think we make a great pair.

There was definitely a time in my life when I was more worried about if my house was dusted and clean enough to pass the inspection of a visitor than just having a friend spend time with me. What a lot of time I've wasted. Now, seriously, I don't really care what people think of my house. It's comfortable and somewhat clean and nothing is growing in the bathroom but don't look too closely in the fridge. There may be fluff in the corners but it just means I haven't swept up in a couple of days and my dog has been comfortably making herself at home. I was telling someone the other day I wish people would just come on over. I'm not very good at inviting and organizing an evening with a meal and all that but it would be fun to throw something together as we sat and talked and there's always pizza! It just seems overwhelming to me to plan all that stuff. Anyway, I loved this and wanted to share some thoughts. Come on over, sit by the pool and enjoy the beauty with me! Just bring your own lunch!

On the Journey Toward Being Hospitable
written by FR. LARRY GILLICK, S.J.

There are two Latin words, which sound almost the same. The first is "hospes," which means "welcome" and the second is "hostis," which means "enemy." From the first word we have the word, "hospital" and from the second we have "hostage". Welcoming is a free accepting of the other; taking hostages means imprisoning the other.

In our neighborhood, when I was a young lad, I often visited two homes of friends that were on our block, I looked forward to visiting one of them but dreaded visiting the other. Years later when I was revisiting my old neighborhood I recalled that split. When I would go to the first home, the mother of my friend would sit down with me at the breakfast table and listen to my exaggerations and exploits. There would be cereal bowls and empty cups on the table, but she would ignore them, turn off the radio so she could hear me better and seemed to enjoy being a part of my life. She could get me talking about myself and I loved that, even if what I was saying wasn't really quite true!

The second house was not so much fun. When I would visit there I had to be careful. The woman seemed to listen, but she was always cleaning the windows and dusting and keeping me nervous with her broom in hand. She was pleasant enough, but I felt like a germ about to infect her sanitary bubble. I think I felt sorry for her, because she wasn't comfortable in her own house.

If we have welcomed ourselves, others will find welcome in us. If we are a hostage to ourselves, we will be imprisoned by our loneliness.