Come in, sir, for you are weary
And the night is cold out there
Though our lives are very humble
What we have, we have to share…
These simple yet remarkable words are sung by the bishop in the musical Les Miserables (kudos if you recognized it!). I experience a jolt of conviction each time I see this show– and am reminded of the high call on our lives to open our homes to strangers, wanderers, and the needy around us.
What kind of story would Les Miz be without Valjean’s redemptive meal at the bishop’s humble table? There would be no story at all– no rebirth of his identity, no adoption of Cosette, no peace for Fantine, no rescuing of Marius– the dramatic difference an act of kindness has is at the crux of Hugo’s story. Valjean’s personal transformation is the only argument against Javert’s unyielding legalism. And it all started with the opening of a single door when all other doors were closed.
These are challenging times for those of us who desire to be hospitable. We fear for our safety. We prefer relational stability. We desire to have friends in high places. We gravitate towards serving those who can serve us in return.
But this is only the beginning of hospitality– a starting point of learning to share. Over the years, Aaron and I have entertained many good friends, and our cooking skills have benefited from it. Gathering our favorite people around the table is one of our staple weekend activities. It’s become a habit for us.
The challenge of true hospitality
Entertaining good friends, however generously, is elementary, and I desire to expand on my definition of hospitality. Hospitality is not just entertaining friends on occasion. Hospitality is the continuous opening of our space– our homes, our schedules, and our hearts– to friends and strangers alike. It is choosing generosity and risking suffering. It is being brave with our resources.
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As you might know, Valjean (a former thief who spent 19 years in the chain gang) takes advantage of the bishop’s generosity and steals away in the night with all the silver tableware he can find. Dragged back to the bishop’s door by police ready to send him back to prison, Valjean finds himself at the mercy of the man he had just betrayed.
What happens next is truly shocking: the bishop defends the thief and adds to his plunder. Exhorting the former thief to see beyond his desperation to the promise of a better future, the bishop invites Valjean to start over. And he does– the story that follows is one of heartache, redemption, suffering and survival.
Where does your hospitality end?
My hospitality doesn’t extend so far as to bless an offender with a second chance. My hospitality hardly extends to those who, if I’m honest, make me feel uncomfortable. I would much rather open my space and my resources to those who are like me– people I naturally trust.
But the magic of hospitality is that it gains power as we yield to it. The more we allow hospitality to shape the way we live, the greater impact our generosity is bound to have on people we share our lives with.
One of the bravest things we can do is to take the same risk as the bishop in Les Miz. He had no guarantee– no reassurance whatsoever– that his “investment” would turn out for good. But rather than living within the confines of an economy of scarcity, he chose to live in an economy of abundance. Whatever he had much of– love, kindness, hope, and vision– would only increase with each openhanded sacrifice. The same is true for us.
Steps towards more openhanded living
I understand that such radical hospitality is no easy feat. But our journey towards building a better world requires this.
We can begin with educating ourselves. We can seek to understand systems of injustice in our town, our country and our world. We can choose to undermine the stereotypical responses of privileged individuals who turn a blind eye to the inconvenient realities of vulnerable communities.
One of the best books I read this year was More or Less: Choosing a Lifestyle of Excessive Generosity by Jeff Shinaberger (here). Jeff tells of a homeless man named Clarence who showed up at his doorstep one day asking for employment. Jeff and Clarence become friends– not without moments of awkwardness and misunderstanding– and Clarence changes Jeff’s life. The rest of the story (which brought me to tears), you’ll have to read yourself.
Perhaps someone like Clarence will show up at my doorstep one day. I want to be willing to open my door and find him work. I want to work towards a habit of hospitality that becomes a second nature.
In spite of the difficulty of actually making the choice and approaching someone, I find that I usually enjoy the connection that comes from such free hospitality.
Yes I hear you Alyssa! I think you’re right about mentorship and participating in community events as a way of sharing. I think it’s definitely a balance between being shrewd and smart, and also being brave and stubbornly generous.
Yes!! So often we think about how we don’t have “enough” to give to others… but the truth is, the more we give, the more we realize we have.
Oh me too. It’s a fascinating part of the story that people often forget about, but it really is the turning point!
Exactly! I struggle with extending hospitality to those I’m less comfortable with as well– and that’s where I want to push myself!
Thank you for reading, Lindsay! So glad this resonated with you. And seriously– Jeff’s book is the absolute best thing I’ve read this year. You’ll love it.
That’s fantastic! It’s great to grow up with a model for hospitality– my husband and I grew up with similar models and it’s helped us be generous and open with our lives as well.
Aw! I love Les Mis– makes me cry, every time.
Wow, Linda. That is fascinating– and so inspiring. It’s true that sometimes it’s the people who have the least who are able to share the most. What a beautiful model of generosity.
Oh good!! I LOVE that book, I can’t sing its praises enough. Jeff Shinaberger is a hero.
Emily, I hear you! Sometimes the last thing I want to do is put on a happy face and “deal with people.” I do tend more toward extraversion though, so it’s easy for me to just go ahead and make that date. Still, it’s a commitment– but being hospitable has helped me realize how much I’ve learned and gained even in 25 short years of life! It’s valuable even just for that!
Thanks for your thoughtful comment, friend!
Thank you for your sweet comment, Lauren! There really is a risk in opening up our homes, but I feel that as followers of Jesus we can only do well by imitating God’s invitation to us. So glad you love Les Mis too! I haven’t read the book… it’s a tome, but I intend on getting to it eventually!
Haha yes! High five!
Thanks for reading this, Jenna! I’ve been contemplating that question myself.
Oh Lindsey! So glad you stopped by. I really appreciate your comment and am so glad this post resonated with you. Do you have a blog?? 🙂
I can appreciate that! Here in Southern California there’s less of that hospitality, and I wish more people opened their homes more often!
I have always loved that hospitality is a huge aspect of southern culture. My parents gave me a great example of this in my home. Love this post and how it made me think!
I’m just finding your blog and my heart feels at home. We have much in common- and as perfect strangers electronically connected, what an unlikely but wonderfully familiar magic here in your space. Thank you for sharing. My heart needed this exact thing today. <3
Wow, you really got me with “where does your generosity end?” That makes me think!
is that quote at the top from Les Miserables? Love it!
My husband and I have a big passion for hospitality and I love how you described it here. Any time we open up our homes, we risk being hurt or rejected or even suffering in some way, but that vulnerability is also what leads to actual transformation. Les Mis is one of my favorite books of all time (if not my favorite) and that scene has always been so fascinating to me. The completely undeserved grace there is beautiful and astounding! So well written, Daisy. I love this!
I’m an incredibly introverted individual, so even getting together for coffee with friends is something I have to be intentional about. (Doing that today, though. Yay me!)
I’m trying to get better about prioritizing my friendships, because they do mean a lot to me. It’s just easy for me to get cooped up in my own world and forget to call or invite them over (which I know is bad), out of pure absent-mindedness.
I like what you said about hospitality being about opening our lives. As daunting a thought as that is, I really like the idea of developing a more generous lifestyle. It’s always exciting to make someone’s day; it’s just hard for me to get past the initial part of, “Oh, I need to /approach/ them first.” I’d really like to read that book now. Definitely marking it down. Thanks for sharing!
Just added that book to my to-read list, and signed up for your newsletter 🙂
I see this often in the community of people who live in their vans. A tarp is laid on the ground and people put out what they are not using and pick up what they could use. As you can image, people who live in vans have little but they freely share what they have. When I would visit with them in my luxury van I would give away free water because water is a precious commodity in the van dwelling community yet sources of it in the Arizona desert are limited. Until you really look, it is hard to imagine what you could give that others would treasure.
I love the point you make that hospitality is not just opening our homes but our lives. Also the Les Mis references laced through killed me.
This is important to remember always! My parents are like this to everyone, even strangers and I’m sadly the one that holds back. We just have to extend hospitality to everyone!
This is such a great message and totally in the spirit and philosophy that I try to live by. I really want to check out that book – it sounds right up my alley!
Thanks for the reminder, Daisy. It’s so easy for me to be hospitable with those that I’m comfortable with, but I often forget to open up to those who I’m not, who are easily overlooked. And after all, what is this Christmas season about but a Savior coming give love and salvation to outsiders?
Such a beautifully written post, Daisy! Plus, I love the Les Miz tie ins—definitely one of my favorites!
xoxo
Kat
I love the scene where the bishop “buys” Valjean from his past.
I love that idea of chosing to live from an economy of abundance rather than an economy of scarcity! There is so much we are blessed to have, and even if we don’t have a lot, our hospitality can still be what someone else needs.
I recognized the lyrics! What a great point, but I agree that concerns for safety do pose an issue. I think that volunteering outside of your home can still be hospitable and ensure your comfort and wellbeing. Becoming a mentor for an after school program or serving in a soup kitchen are ways to incorporate hospitality in your life, while keeping your needs in mind.