Hospitality is More Than Being Nice to Others

While growing up, I think I witnessed hospitality on a regular basis, but at the time, probably would have considered it just being polite.

It seemed that there were always men stopping by our house to talk to my dad, & the conversations usually appeared very serious. Mom always had a snack or drink ready for them, but once served, left them alone. In time I came to realize that Dad functioned as an unofficial “advisor” who welcomed all & freely shared his time & wisdom whenever it was sought.

As an officer of the altar & rosary Society, Mom led the rosary at all the Parish wakes, with me tagging along, where I came to understand the value of reaching out to comfort the grieving.

At home, whenever the doorbell rang, Mom went directly to her mirror to make sure she was “presentable” to whomever had come to the door—even if it might have been a beggar. Mom had a fear of strangers, so when anyone came to our back door in search of food, she would send me to my room, ask the stranger to wait outside, locked the door & found some food to share, but as soon as she gave him the food, she shut the door again & locked it. She was able to squelch her fear long enough to still show kindness and treat him with respect.

My grandmother always bought the best quality ingredients for whatever she prepared for guests, and she made it a point to find out their preferences so she could serve something that was especially for them.

In time, my concept of hospitality changed from simply making friends to spend time with, to serving others. 2 grade-school classmates had physical handicaps—one was nearly blind & the other was a little person. I became their best friend, pulling the little one out of snowdrifts & pushing her to walk faster so we wouldn’t be late for school & advising the other how to fix her hair & wear current trends.

As my resources grew, I felt that giving things was the core of hospitality. That developed into feeling the need to give only the biggest & best that I could, to the extent that if I didn’t consider what I had to be good enough to impress the recipient, I just didn’t give…anything. In time, as I experienced true hospitality from others, I came to recognize the love & acceptance that overshadows

whatever the gift might be. I learned that I could share generously from what I had, but not to the extent that would cause me to resent what I was doing.

I had not considered sharing my time to be an integral part of hospitality, but what more precious gift can we give to another than our time? We live in an addition to our daughter’s home, so we have frequent visits from our 3 grandchildren, not always at the most convenient times. But I make it a point to drop whatever I am doing to turn my attention to them and to listen to anything they are willing to share with me or play a game with them. I truly hope they don’t pick up on those times when I would prefer not to be interrupted. I need to remember they are Jesus when he was 10, 13 & 19 & what a gift it is to have them in my life.

50 years ago we lived in Germany for 3 years. While my memory is fuzzy, one thing that has stayed with me is the concern they had for our safety. There were many parties & the beer flowed freely, but even though My husband & I did not imbibe, when it came time to leave, our hosts would insist on taking us home. They were our hosts until we were safely returned home.

Much more recently, during two years in Namibia, I was exposed to cultural differences, some of which I did not fully understand nor embrace.

When invited to meals in homes, the children prepared and served most of the meals and stayed in the kitchen until the adults were finished. I would have preferred that they join us, but it was not allowed. That applied to family meals, also. The men were served first, then the other adults, then the children ate what was left, & cleaned up. If there were guests, the children greeted the guests upon their departure & they always expressed pleasure at having been able to serve us. That made me feel that I had been welcome, but I still didn’t understand nor appreciate their exclusion.

I was not comfortable with what I considered their excessive manner of greeting. When joining a meeting, for example, it was expected that the new arrival would 1 by 1 address each in attendance accompanied w/ an inquiry about family members or other small talk. I considered this sharing a “waste of time”, but it is very important to them that they acknowledge each other. I didn’t recognize this as hospitality.

When there was going to be a celebration, word of the event was simply spread & people just showed up. And everyone was warmly welcomed & treated as if they

were the guest of honor. I just never figured out how they were able to prepare without knowing how many to expect.

There seemed to be an unwritten “open-door” policy in place. Not only did they not close their doors, but people freely entered each other’s homes & there seemed to be no concern. I don’t know what they thought of our closed door, but I was not ready to open ourselves to that extent.

Most homes had many more beds filling the bedrooms than there were residents. Whenever someone needed a place to stay, there would always be a place available, squeezed in among the family members. Unannounced guests were readily absorbed & treated like a member of the family.

Some had extra rooms added to their homes for the express purpose of providing for anyone needing a place to stay. While many people did not have their own homes, very few were without shelter as that would be shared with them by whomever had the means.

The most hospitable people I encountered were Filipinos. I’ve been told that they are taught to be that way. One of our colleagues in Namibia was from the Philippines & went out of her way to include us in their community. Immediately after being introduced, one of the couples, with no hesitation, offered to drive to our town to bring us to their home to spend the next weekend to show us around. They didn’t even know us!! Every Sunday after the English Mass at the next town, at least one of the families would bring us to their home for a very expansive breakfast to which any number of their community would join in. I believe we were included in every gathering they had & we were made to feel like honored guests by everyone there.

I am grateful for this focus on Hospitality throughout Benedict’s Rule. In the chapter on the Porter of the Monastery, for one, I have discovered the spiritual benefit of preparing for a guest. Just as my mother made sure she was “presentable”, I rush around my house making it presentable for whomever is at the door. Now I see that more as an opportunity to focus on the arrival of Christ than it is trying to impress the visitor with my superb housekeeping. With this focus on hospitality, I am becoming more aware of its place in my life—receiving from others and the weak presence in my practices. It is with genuine gratitude that I will continue to reflect on reaching out to Christ in others as Benedict’s rule so clearly teaches.

Oblate Day Oct. 22, 2022 By Oblate Sharon McNamara