Hospitality at Home
Hospitality is a word that we all know well. Most Sundays, we speak about it from stage at Summit. To some, it’s a massive, worldwide industry. And to others, it’s a biblical call to entertain the stranger.
The dictionary defines hospitality as “the friendly and generous reception and entertainment of guests, visitors, or strangers.” I know we’re going on week four of practicing social distancing for the safety of others, and it feels like a big oxymoron to be writing about hospitality at this time. But that’s what I’m doing because this extrovert has been doing nothing but dreaming about when I can invite others in or entertain guests again. And I’m not just longing for hospitality in my personal life.
Like so many others, when COVID-19 came along it altered my job. All of our services moved online, and my Sunday job as the hospitality and ministry coordinator no longer seemed essential to the process of “church.” Church was now happening in living rooms across central Florida, and across the country, and the presence of a Lobby was no longer part of making church happen. So, while I was still performing other functions of my job, I found myself feeling isolated and obsolete. On top of that, I was simultaneously becoming a full-time remote worker and learning how to do school with my daughter at home. During this massive adjustment, I found myself missing life as it once was, longing for this to be over and dreaming about when I could be reunited with my friends and family, my church family, my work family—my people.
On a particularly hard day a couple of weeks ago, I was feeling really down about my lack of human connection. I was lamenting that Easter, what should be my busiest time of year, was motionless, and I was no longer getting to do parts of my job that I loved. It was a particularly hard day filled with a lot of meetings for me and for my husband, and I still had a daughter who had school meetings and work of her own. As I was praying and crying out to God in my sadness and frustration, I asked how I could be using my hospitality skills for him, in this time. How could he take this part of my job away from me? I mean, how, pray tell, was I supposed to be hospitable when the best thing I can do for myself and the world around me is isolating as much as possible?
After letting God have it, I went on about my day and went through the motions. Our meetings happened, schoolwork happened, and that night, sitting quietly in bed, I heard God speak to my heart. Hospitality has not disappeared—like the rest of the world right now, it simply looked different. And in true divine fashion, God broadened my view beyond my narrow thinking. I was so focused on what I wasn’t getting and looking to the future, that it was missing what was happening now. My idea of hospitality was based solely on that dictionary definition. My thinking under the current circumstances was too linear. And while the linear definition I had grown so accustomed to is still true, it’s not limited to that.
Right now, hospitality looks like hosting a digital morning gathering with my Lake Mary volunteers before Sunday service. It looks like virtually connecting with family and friends through Zoom or Marco Polo. It looks like fun sidewalk chalk art for your neighbors. It looks like a wave and smiles from a distance. It looks like car parades of gratitude for healthcare workers or for friend’s birthdays. It looks like grace with the loved ones you’re living with. It looks like small acts of service at home for your loved ones. It looks like ordering a meal for friends so they don’t have to cook … again. It looks like leaving a thank you note for your delivery drivers or waste management workers. It looks like getting creative and loving the visitors, friends, and strangers around you.
The version of hospitality that I’ve grown comfortable with may not be an option right now, and I am looking forward to the day when hugs in the Lobby are permissible again, but hospitality is just as prevalent today as it was a few weeks ago. It simply looks different. These past few weeks have only expanded my view of hospitality. They have shown me that hospitality is an ever-changing art form that we are all capable of, no matter what the world throws at us because God designed us for human connection. Hospitality will always be a tangible way to express that human connection. And while showing hospitality to others in our homes may not be an option, showing hospitality while at home is.
Amy Kaufholz is the Lake Mary ministry coordinator at Summit Church. She’s married to a stellar guy named Jimmy and has an awesome daughter named Izzy. Amy also loves music, movies, Disney, and all things shopping!