Widen the Circle

Hanging on the wall in my home, printed on a beautiful piece of wood hand-painted by an old friend of mine, is Mother Teresa's famous quote: “If you want to bring happiness to the whole world, go home and love your family.” It’s been the centerpiece of our living room for years and I never tire of it. I find it so encouraging, especially on days I feel I haven’t done “enough” by the world’s standards or even my own. On those days I read Mother Teresa’s words and I am reassured knowing if nothing else, I have loved my family today, and in doing so I have made the world a bit happier.

Sometimes as adults, it’s difficult to see the world outside our own home, let alone contribute to it. Our family demands so much of our time and attention that it’s all we can do to just love them well. When our productivity falls short, we can at least turn our attention within our four walls and know that we are doing something right. We are raising good humans and training them up in the way they should go. We are curating a safe space for them, a soft place to land at the end of a hard day and we’re providing a haven for their tears, failures, and fears. We not only love our family well, but we empathize, encourage, and forgive well too. This is what makes the world beyond our home a better place. This is what spreads happiness. It’s a beautiful idea, isn’t it? An idea we could easily embrace if that was all there was to it, because how hard is it to just focus on our own family? But Mother Teresa also said, “The openness of our hearts and minds can be measured by how wide we draw the circle of what we call family.”

I’ve read some inspiring books on curating the art of Godly hospitality, the most recent being The Ministry of Ordinary Places: Waking Up to God’s Goodness Around You by Shannan Martin. I resonated with the struggle between wanting to be hospitable and risking rejection or disappointment. I love hosting people in my home and I’m confident in the gift of hospitality the Lord’s given me, but I’ve been let down too many times. (You may remember our failed neighborhood movie nights detailed in one of my very first blog posts, Really Small Beginnings.) I’ve enjoyed seasons of steadfast hospitality in which guests showed up on the regular, relationships deepened and thrived, and my home was filled with laughter, prayer, and authentic connection. But I’ve also struggled through seasons in which everyone flaked, the potluck contributions were nothing but pasta, the conversation went flat early in the evening, an awkward silence ensued, and our kids just didn’t get along. I’ve been disappointed by strangers and friends alike when it comes to hospitality, and so sometimes it’s just easier to focus on my own family and let that be enough. But that’s not what I’m called to do, because as Mother Teresa pointed out, how we define “family” is a reflection of our heart, and my heart longs to be like Christ.

Jesus addressed this when He said, “Love your neighbor as yourself,” (Luke 10:27). In response, an expert of the law quipped, “And who is my neighbor?” (v.29). Jesus then shared the parable of the Good Samaritan, showing us that our neighbor is anyone in need. The Samaritan crossed all kinds of cultural boundaries by assisting the man on the road. I’m sure it wasn’t easy. I’m sure he considered what others might think of him assisting this outsider from a foreign land. I’m sure he wondered whether or not the stranger was safe; maybe it was a trick, or maybe he was diseased. I’m sure the Samaritan didn’t see his day going that way; how inconvenient to reroute himself and take the time to bandage and transport a wounded man. I’m sure he would have preferred to get home to his family, taken the easy road. How sacrificial to give of his time, money, and resources for the sake of the unexpected needs of a stranger. Yet he offered empathy, compassion, healing, and generous hospitality to a man who was by no means family. The Samaritan understood that the victim on the road was part of the family of God, so he took a risk and widened his circle.

“There is room for you here, in my home, next to me.” These are the words we are encouraged to say to those we find on the road of life. Enveloped in the warm embrace of another’s generosity is a safe, freeing place to be. “Knowing that, why does something so vital to our souls often feel so scary and uncertain? What is it about the come-as-you-are spirit of hospitality that makes us doubt our ability to do just that?” (Shannan Martin, The Ministry of Ordinary Places). Hospitality often requires risk and sacrifice. If like me, you’ve opened yourself up to others only to be met with rejection or disappointment, I understand the hesitation you may feel to try it again. Shannan Martin describes it this way: “Rejection is a chronic injury difficult to shake, once felt. We are so afraid our vulnerability won’t be held with gentle hands,” (The Ministry of Ordinary Places). I often resonate with the Samaritan in Jesus’ story and draw inspiration from his willingness to see past himself and meet the needs of others in the name of hospitality, but it’s worth pointing out that the wounded man took a risk too. He trusted the Samaritan, a stranger and foreigner, after he’d been passed by and rejected twice already (Luke 10:31-32). No doubt he was afraid of what the Samaritan might to do him in his vulnerable state. How could he be sure he intended to help, not harm? It was a risk worth taking. Oh to be on the receiving end of the Samaritan’s wild generosity, to be shown compassion, to have his wounds dressed, to be taken away from the danger of the road, and to be cared for in the shelter of an inn with all expenses paid. What I’d give to hear the rest of the story, to hear the testimony of the wounded man as he left the inn, healed and restored at the hands of a stranger. I’ll bet he paid it forward. I’ll bet the next time he came upon someone in need, he widened his circle too.

In the book of Matthew, Jesus tells another parable of The Sheep and the Goats. Jesus says the sheep will be sorted from the goats, and sheep will inherit the kingdom of Heaven, “For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me. Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’ The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me,’” (Matthew 25:35-40). Do you see? Hospitality isn’t just for our family, our neighbors, or even for strangers, it’s for Jesus himself. Our home here on earth is temporary, so let’s take the risk. Let’s fling wide the doors and offer a seat at our table. Why? Because eternity hangs in the balance.

When you put it into perspective, opening our home isn’t asking much if someone’s salvation is on the line. Sure, we could just invite someone to church, but shouldn’t we first invite them over for a meal? If they don’t feel welcome in our house, will they feel welcome in God’s? We are Christ’s ambassadors (2 Cor. 5:20), and as such we should ensure our family, our neighbors, and even strangers, feel safe and welcome in our presence. Let’s remember they are taking a risk too just by crossing our threshold. They are choosing to trust us. Our home should be a place where others can let their guard down, come just as they are, and feel seen, known, and accepted. Because we know the sting of rejection and disappointment all too well, we should hold others in our homes with gentle hands. They must know they belong before they believe.

Let’s widen our circle today. Let’s risk rejection and disappointment. Let’s embrace the awkwardness and inconvenience. Let’s include those we don’t usually think to include. Let’s broaden our definition of “family.” Let’s love our neighbor as ourselves. Let’s bring happiness to the whole world, one invitation at a time.

“Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it.” Hebrews 13:12