Divine Hospitality

Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

“From Hostility to Hospitality”. A few years ago, our parish adopted this tagline as one of two focal projects for our parish transformation and renewal. When I first mooted it, I could sense the reticence and tension within the room. Should I even be surprised by this response if “hostility” were not an accurate assessment of our parish condition? How have we fared since then? Well, I jokingly tell Fr Dominic and some of the leaders, instead of growth in hospitality, after repeated goading and “instigation” from the Parish Priest, we seem to have made progress, “From Hostility to Greater Hostility.” I acknowledge that I must also take some blame for this, for either causing more hostility through my policies or words, or failing, through omission, to handle the hostility in a more expedient or prudent manner.

It is interesting how hospitality and hostility sound so much alike but yet are so different. Other than the first three letters, they are clearly opposites. “Hospitality” conjures up the context of guests, visitors, putting on meals for them, providing board and lodging, and making the stranger feel “at home.” Hostility, on the other hand, is about keeping the other at a safe distance and even putting up barriers and walls to keep them out. Yes, it is easy to be hospitable towards those who are being hospitable towards us. However, in these past few years as a priest, I have been reminded that being hospitable to those who are being hostile is difficult and challenging.

In today’s gospel scene, we see both hostility and hospitality. Martha is resentful. She is hostile towards her sister’s lackadaisical attitude for leaving her to do all the work. Most of us would emphatise with poor Martha. We can understand her resentment - some seem to be doing an unfair share of the work whilst others seem to be lazing around or are able to find all sorts of excuses to escape work. The irony of this story is that this tension or hostility arises between the two sisters as a result of their different ways of showing hospitality to the Lord who has come visiting. Martha shows it by her busy-ness in the kitchen whereas Mary displays her form of hospitality by sitting at the feet of the Lord. Sound of light banter and even cheerful laughter drifting into the kitchen where Martha was busy slaving over the stove, would have incensed even a saint.

Martha had not chosen anything bad. In fact, she had chosen something very good. But yet our Lord commended Mary for having made the better choice. Yes, serving others is a characteristic feature of being a disciple of Christ. But there is more to this. Listening to our Lord, being attentive to the saving words of the Lord, the Word Incarnate, being “served” by Him, is far more important. That is why the Lord chided Martha with these seemingly harsh words, “you worry and fret about so many things, and yet few are needed, indeed only one.” Only one thing that is needful and Mary had chosen that one crucial, absolutely necessary thing. She sat at His feet and listened with great eagerness, affection and pleasure. Mary chose to listen not just to the words of Jesus but to the life-giving, death defying, saving Incarnate Word of God. It is by sitting at Jesus' feet that we learn that He is the one who has come to serve and not be served. It is at His feet that we truly grasp His work of redemption – by taking our sins of inhospitality, by dying for the ones who rejected Him and refused hospitality to Him, He offered us the hospitality of heaven. It is at the feet of our Lord that we learn the real lesson of hospitality from the One who is the perfect host. To do other things at the expense of sitting at the Lord’s feet is to let good things get in the way of better things.

Here is the true paradox of the story – whilst Martha was asking what she could do for the Lord, Mary knew the correct question should be “what can the Lord do for her?” The host becomes the guest and the guest the host. It is interesting to note that the Italian word “ospite” can mean both “guest” and “host.” This certainly presents us English-speakers with some confusion. How can we make the distinction when we are talking about the host (the one who welcomes you in his home, the one who is busy in the kitchen as the rest of us sit at the table) and the guest (the one who rings the doorbell and waits for the door to be opened, the one who waits to be served, the one who needs directions to find the bathroom)? After all, don't we need a word that distinguishes the one who gives hospitality from the one who receives hospitality? But in this story, we are reminded that there should be such confusion. The author to the Hebrews tells us “let mutual love continue. Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it” (Heb 13:1-2). Hospitality flows both ways. No hosts, no guests, only “ospiti” - hospitality.

The host becomes the guest and the guest becomes the host. This is the power of biblical hospitality. God’s call to love the stranger is an invitation to experience God in a new way. It is a way that brings about radical transformation, changes lives and introduces surprises. People usually don't expect surprises. Yet biblical hospitality, the call to love the stranger, guarantees that a surprise is just around the corner. The guest becomes the host. Givers receive more than they give. This is the story of Abraham welcoming three guests, who turned out to be divine visitors. In return, God shows hospitality to Abraham by rewarding Sarah with a son.

The story of Martha and Mary and Jesus therefore should be considered in this same light. Here, we are not celebrating the hospitality of a man (or a woman), but the very hospitality of God. In fact, St Luke portrays the life and ministry of Jesus as a divine “visitation” to the world, seeking hospitality. The One who comes as visitor and guest becomes host and offers a hospitality in which the entire world can become truly human, be at home, and know salvation in the depths of their hearts. Those in St Luke's Gospel who readily offer hospitality - chiefly the sinner, the marginalised and the poor - find themselves drawn into a much deeper sphere of hospitality, the hospitality of God. They may have welcomed the Lord into their homes and to their tables, but it is the Lord who has welcomed them into His heart as they opened their hearts to Him. They are challenged by the Lord to conversion so that no one may be left out of the banquet of life to which God calls all mankind.

In a culture of hectic schedules and the relentless pursuit of productivity, we are tempted to measure our worth by how busy we are, by how much we accomplish, or by how well we meet the expectations of others. Sometimes, we believe that we can earn God’s favour through the busyness of our devotion and service. Such activity often leaves us anxious and troubled and we end up with a kind of service that is devoid of love and joy and resentful of others. But then we are reminded once again by the story of Martha, Mary and our Lord that what is ultimately important is not what you can do for the Lord but, what can He do, or what has He done for you. And that is only possible when we are able to transcend our busy and distracted lives and enter into prayerful contemplation of His Word. We can never claim to be able to offer true hospitality to a stranger or even our neighbour or family member, if we continue to be aliens to the hospitality of God. God is always inviting, patiently waiting for us to sit at His feet.

At His feet, we are reassured once again that we are His children, we are renewed in faith and strengthened for service. God wants to play host to us. Our Lord offers us the hospitality of His grace. In Him, we find ourselves now to be, the enemy who has been forgiven, the sinner who is saved, the stranger who is welcomed, the alienated one who has found a home. In Him, and only in Him, can hostility become hospitality.