Key ingredients in hospitality

Series: Why Should I Encounter Persecuted Christians?

I need to encounter persecuted Christians because they teach me the meaning of biblical hospitality.

It was a hot, humid day in 1982 as I approached my contact's house in Krakow, Poland.
Although this was not my first trip behind the Iron Curtain, it was my first time to lead a team bringing in Bibles requested by an Eastern Bloc church.
So I was a little nervous.
Is this the right place? Would we be able to communicate? What if no one's home? Have I been followed?
The stress level rose as questions flooded my mind.
Our team had a simple plan: Make the contact, arrange a time to deliver the Bibles, make the delivery, get out of town. It would be quick and efficient, minimizing the risk to our Christian contacts and ourselves.

Flexible approach required
Amazingly, our contacts had a different plan.
The lady who answered the door eyed me suspiciously, but she immediately ushered me into the house after I mispronounced her name and revealed myself as a foreigner.
In very broken English she told me her husband, the pastor, would be home later, but she would call a relative who spoke fluent English. In the meantime, I must be hungry, yes?
It was a rhetorical question. She rushed off to cook as I smiled for the next 45 minutes at various family members who did not speak any English.
Finally, a beautiful plate of chicken, rice and vegetables arrived, which I ate in full view of the rest of the family.
When the English-speaking relative arrived, I revealed the full scope of our brilliant plan and advised haste in making the Bible delivery - only to be rebuffed.
"Where are your co-workers?" he asked.
"Waiting in the park, probably wondering what happened to me," I replied.
"Bring them here," he commanded. "They must be hungry!"
Soon my two teammates were feasting on delicious chicken dinners while I and the rest of the family watched.
When they finished, we again attempted to make plans for the delivery. Again, we were rebuffed.
"Go get your vehicle and park it in the back," our new friend ordered. "You will sleep here tonight."
"We'll be fine at a campsite, and it will be less dangerous for you," I replied as if doing the family a great favour. "We can return tomorrow whenever is best."
"You will sleep here tonight," he said firmly.
"But don't you think it would be better if – "
"Go get your vehicle; you will sleep here tonight!"
Somewhat confused, but looking forward to sleeping in a real bed, we wandered off to retrieve our vehicle, parked only a few hundred meters away.

Risk
The rest of the afternoon was spent unloading a significant portion of almost 3,000 Bibles we had brought into the country. But the evening turned out to be an even greater treat.
Sitting in the humble living room of this gracious Polish pastor and his family, we laughed at the myriad conversational boners, cried at the difficulties they faced living as Christians under a communist regime, and prayed together in two languages.
Finally, as we were literally herded off to bed, I couldn't help but ask one more time: "Isn't it dangerous for you with us staying in your home? We can still make our way to a campsite."
With only a slight hint of exasperation at my concern, the pastor replied: "Yes, it is dangerous. You will sleep here tonight."
Nodding off to sleep that night, I began to realize that biblical hospitality involves risk. Putting others before ourselves can be delightful - but it can also be dangerous, or at least uncomfortable.
Was I as willing as they were to put my family and my future at risk to be "given to hospitality"? (Romans 12:13)

Faith
A few years later I found myself sitting in the kitchen of a Cuban pastor in Havana.
Once again it was time to eat, and our gracious host and his wife were placing large mounds of rice with small bits of chicken on the 50s-style table.
It was not an extravagant meal by any means, but the portions were large enough to make me wonder whether the stories I had heard about rationing and deprivation were true.
So when the opportunity presented itself, I began to search the cupboards.
They were completely bare.
This Cuban family had cooked the last of their food - all they had - for our small team. And as far as I could tell, they had done it joyfully.
Then I understood that biblical hospitality also involves faith. Unless the Lord provides, this family has no expectation of eating again.
Later we learned more about the Lord's faithfulness in miraculously meeting their needs over and over again.
No wonder they were joyful: Hospitality was an adventure in faith for them!
Risk and faith: two key ingredients of biblical hospitality. Mixed together, they produce joy. The Persecuted Church understands this.
We in the West need to learn it.

Other articles in this series:

• Achievement or Sacrifice?
• Stop Complaining
• Our Debt to Spiritual Ancestors
• Hope for Hard Times
• The Battle for Religious Freedom Never Ends
• Seeing the Bible through Persecuted Eyes
• Death Loses its Sting
• The Power of Song
• Simple Faith
• The Beauty of Mystery
• Awakening to Struggle
• Obstacles to Instruments
• God is Not Safe
• Deliverance Comes Through Endurance
• Imperfect People Do God's Will