Dear Friends,
With the passing of Memorial Day and the Feast of the Ascension, summer is clearly upon us. Next Sunday is Pentecost and priestly ordinations will happen at the Cathedral on Saturday morning. Those events, as well, should say summer is here. I suppose the number of our parishioners who have told me that they are heading to their summer cabins at the lake and that they will see me in September, should also tell me that summer is here.
I truly love the change that the warm weather and sunshine bring to our human community. Things happen during the summer that are difficult in the cooler parts of the year. It is simply easier to be outdoors when the weather is warm. The days are longer and we can linger in the backyard of a friend sharing one more beer and solving one more world problem.
This is the time for travel, to visit friends and relatives who live farther away than a couple hours’ drive. And, this is the time of year that we practice the roles of being host and guest. This is an ancient and holy practice that has an impact on our spiritual lives. In the book of Genesis, Abraham unknowingly entertains three angels as honored guests and is rewarded with the promise of Isaac’s birth. Sarah preparing the meal in the tent overhears the conversation and laughs at the possibility, but it happens.
Literature and the real world are filled with examples of the importance of the relationship between host and guest. Even church buildings are designed nowadays to emphasize the importance of hospitality. When we are guided by hospitality, our societies are tighter-knit and happier, with more ample opportunities for good cheer, hearty conversation, and interconnectedness.
Hospitality is characterized by the requirements of hosting and receiving: a host, when stepping into the role, surrenders his or her own tastes, time, and desires in order to fulfill the expectations of the guests. The host takes the place of a servant, running around town to fetch the perfect cut of meat or around the house to prepare all of the side dishes. The menu designed does not cater to their own palate but to that of the guest. That service is given as an act of love and care for the guest. I recently did the funeral for a friend of mine who taught me so much about being a good host. Everyone who ever walked into her presence was treated as if they were the most important person in the world.
A guest, on the other hand, is also controlled by norms of politeness: he or she must be generous in praise, hold a conversation that interests the host, produce a thank-you of some kind for the invitation, and find no fault with the food, regardless of its actual taste. Thus, there is a delicate balance on both sides, each attempting to please the other, and in doing so creating a strong bond and a strong community that serves and supports one another.
These ancient practices have faded in our culture, and we are all less because of it. The loss of the practice of hospitality is evident in the wider community. Never before have we seen such fractured neighborhoods and towns, where no one knows who lives next to them and front doors must be locked in broad daylight.
Those of you my age (I just turned 70) may remember neighborhoods where everyone was known and shared life together. My siblings and I developed friendships with the kids across the street and to our right and left. We spent summer days running barefoot through our yards and eating hamburgers on backyard picnic tables together. It was the shared meals that our parents put together that truly solidified our relationships. We never locked our front door during the day or closed our garage doors when we left the house because we knew that the families around us would keep watch, just as we would for them. Even if they were not the kind of folks we would choose to spend time with, we did so because we were neighbors. Community in the neighborhood was created through hospitality.
There is an old Jewish tradition that is part of the Passover meal wherein an empty plate and cup are set out for the prophet Elijah. The children open the front door and call for him to come enjoy a meal with the family. Perhaps we could embrace that tradition. It is not difficult, nor time-consuming, to set out an extra plate or two on your dinner table and invite someone over for a meal. A casual hosting of friends or extended family for dinner takes only a little foresight to plan a nicer meal. One more cup of flour to make an extra batch of cookies for new neighbors can blossom into a friendship. The preparation and enjoyment of food is a uniting experience, and the richness of meals together as a family and as a community ought to be cherished, treasured, and cultivated.
It is summer! Let’s make it one of hospitality and friendship. Let us practice the ancient ways and restore one little part of the world as a place to welcome the divine.
Peace,
Fr. Damian