Instead Of Fearing Those Who Are “Strange” To Us, Do This
We can’t discuss hospitality without shining a light on this verse from Hebrews:
“Keep on loving one another as brothers and sisters. Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it.” (Hebrews 13:1-2)
As we unpack the words, we discover two “destinations” the writer instructs us to occupy: the first is a place of loving brothers (the Greek word philadelphia), and the second is a place of loving strangers (the Greek word philoxenia).
Our first stop on the map is Philadelphia: “Keep on loving one another as brothers and sisters” (Hebrews 13:1). Not the town that existed in the New Testament, nor the town that exists today, but a spiritual philadelphia, which is a Greek word that means “love of brothers.”
As believers, we’re instructed to inhabit the metaphorical land of Philadelphia, demonstrating brotherly love by showing hospitality to our brother, sister, wife, husband, children, parents—and brothers and sisters in Christ. We are encouraged—no, directed—to:
“Reach out and welcome one another.”
“Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling.“
“Love your spiritual family.”
Biblical hospitality begins with brotherly love.
But this is not the end of the trip.
What about those who don’t fall under the categories listed above? What about the people with whom you have no relationship? Or those who, frankly, seem strange to you?
The second “destination” is an otherworldly place where hospitality is demonstrated openly, and love is shown to strangers: Philoxenia. “Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it” (Hebrews 13:2).
The Greek word philoxenia, literally meaning “love of strangers,” is the place of faith where our lives get bigger and better and hearts are exponentially expanded; it’s the concept the author is referring to in Hebrews 13. As believers, we must live in the land of Philoxenia. Of course this isn’t a literal destination on the map, but it is certainly a literal attitude of the heart.
It’s easy to sit at the Thanksgiving table with our friends and family. It's another thing to sit at the table with folks you wouldn't typically invite to a holiday meal. Not people like your eccentric uncle or oversharing aunt: people who are in some way different than you, people outside of your circle for one or many reasons. They might look, live and vote differently than you; they often worship differently than you do. A stranger’s life consists of elements that are, simply put, strange to you.
The act of showing hospitality to a stranger is not optional for the Christ-follower. We are told to demonstrate this kindness to all, and yet the undeserved bonus is that in possibly “entertaining strangers,” we are blessed and transformed.
When we show hospitality to those outside of our circles and “entertain strangers,” something magical happens. Spoiler alert: the Bible tells us that magical thing is the reality that, as we love strangers, we are sometimes entertaining angels.
The word angel means “messenger,” which describes what almost every stranger has become to me. Throughout decades of showing hospitality to people who are unlike me, I have received messages and learned lessons that have expanded my soul and broadened my mind in completely new ways. These individuals were certainly used as messengers in my life.
If I weren’t showing hospitality to strangers, I certainly wouldn’t have been encouraged and impacted by a beautiful young woman who was dying of AIDS and taught me how to suffer graciously, or the wife of a multimillionaire Wall Street analyst who taught me about servant leadership, or the Jewish community leader who taught me how to care for the poor. Each of these precious individuals spoke into my life in revolutionary ways.
As believers who are committed to doing things differently than the world, we must organize our lives and homes and organizations to constantly offer invitation to those outside of our circles. Everything about us should shout to the stranger, “Come in! Please, come in!” We do this with our demeanor and attitude, and we do it with our humble, listening ears.
But the term “strangers” doesn’t always have to mean someone who’s different and outside of our circle. Have you ever had that moment where you look at your best friend, or your spouse or child, and think “I do not understand you. You might as well be a stranger.” Even those closest to us can and will feel like a mystery at times. The open, loving, civil manner that we employ when loving strangers applies here, too.
Henri Nouwen explains:
“The term hospitality therefore, should not be limited to its literal sense of receiving a stranger in our house—though it is important never to forget or neglect that!—but as a fundamental attitude toward our fellow human being, which can be expressed in a great variety of ways.”
We can adopt the hospitable attitude Nouwen references whether we’re showing brotherly love in the spiritual place of Philadelphia, or we’re setting up camp in Philoxenia, readying ourselves for angelic, meaningful encounters with strangers.
Instead of fearing those who are “strange” to us, we can treat them as messengers and choose to learn from one another. We can be otherworldly in the way we listen with civility and truly hear others’ worldviews.