Hospitality

I once slept on a pool table in a chicken coop. The bad part of the story is that it was not the worse place I have ever stayed.

Ministry has given Susan and me a special opportunity to sleep in many homes, hostels, hotels and even huts. It has also helped us understand the value of real hospitality.

Before I go too far with this note, I should say that most places where we have had the privilege of staying have been wonderful. Susan reminds me I should say this because we would like to return to many of those same places in the future!

Still, having said that, this really has been an adventure in learning.

Previous to marrying Susan, I played guitar in a traveling band. This is before the term "contemporary Christian music" existed. In those days they simply called it "sin." Traveling and playing in a different place almost every night helped the four of us in the group to understand the difference between those who have the gift of hospitality and those who don't. The pool table in the chicken coop took place on our tour. So did what I have come to call the "endless night with Jerry."

One night in southwest Arkansas I had the "privilege" of sleeping on a real feather mattress. Unfortunately, I shared the twin bed with our bass player, Jerry. Since all weight in the mattress was immediately relocated to the lowest point in the center part of the bed, I spent a very long night
hugging a good-sized musician on a warm southern evening. He didn't have to worry about my snoring... I doubt if I slept much that night. For some reason, the scene with John Candy and Steve Martin in "Planes, Trains and Automobiles" was never funny to me. It reminds me too much of past
experiences.

Because many people envision missionaries as really old folks, we have often been housed with the oldest couples in churches where we are speaking. We always remember one 80 year-old couple with whom we stayed that had recently married. They had been the "outside" husband and wife. When the brother and sister to whom they had both been married died, it seemed natural (to
them!) to continue what had already been a friendship of over sixty years. It was both a privilege and a challenge to spend the evening with those newlyweds.

At breakfast I decided I would rise to the challenge and try to get the elderly, Scottish man to laugh. Over porridge and discussion of "deeper doctrines" I began to tell some of my stories. I think I knew I had him when I saw his shoulders jerk while spooning the hot oats into his mouth.

When one of the church leaders arrived to take us away from the twilight zone in which we found ourselves, he was amazed to find our host laughing out loud with tears rolling down his cheeks. Later he told me he had known my host for over fifty years and had never seen him smile. Still, I have a photo in an old album proving that he did at least once in his life.

One of the difficulties of staying in different people's homes is trying to remember where the bathroom is located when you wake up at 2:00am. I am not ashamed to admit I have found myself in more than one closet trying to remember how to actually find the room I was looking for before it was too late. The dark of night is not the best time to review house plans in your mind.

Hospitality comes from the root word of "hospes", or, guests. It is the same Greek word from which we get hospital and hospice... although most of the guests in those places would rather be someplace else. In the New Testament period it was probably one of the most important gifts in the
local church. One commentator has defined hospitality as: "The divine enablement to share with others our home, our lives, our personal space, and resources without communicating a need for performance or expectation in return."

During the past three weeks we have spent time in Illinois, Minnesota and Missouri. We drove about 2500 miles. We preached to churches or shared in smaller groups 9 times. We attended one funeral, one family reunion and visited with our dentist... three events or activities that have more in common than you might want to believe. All of this means that we were very thankful for the hospitality that was shown to us by many of you.

It was a joy to spend time in our daughter and son-in-law's home. They ALWAYS have someone staying with them. Still, when we show up they somehow make room. I feel at home there. This may be because some of the furniture and decorations once belonged to us. However, I have to think there is something else that is involved.

Our dear friend Helen continually opens up her home to us. She has arranged everything so that she can host lost missionaries and help them to feel truly at home in their travels. She has been very successful.

Just because we have done it for so many years I cannot forget to mention my own parents and in-laws. They graciously allow the chaos of our lives to spill into their more orderly existences. My father is still expecting something from me in life, so I am not sure it is real hospitality. Still, I believe my mother does it out of the goodness of her heart.

It was wonderful to be in the Kieft's new home in Missouri. Whether they have been in Bolivia, Colorado, Michigan or Kansas City they have always been gracious in opening up their personal resources to us.

So, to all of you that have opened your home to traveling missionaries, I want to say thank-you. I doubt if you can understand the meaning of feeling at home in what has become a very foreign country to us. However, I can assure you that your ministry to people like us is greatly appreciated. It really does go beyond words.