Hospitable words like hospice, hostel and host address our heart’s longing to be a welcome space for anyone suffering from hunger of body or sickness of soul. Priests know intuitively that all those entrusted to their care desire to be respected and treated with dignity, charity and the milk of human kindness. The virtue of hospitality directs their vision to the inherent worth of every person created by God. They greet people with warmth and affection, knowing that Christ is in them and with them; they try to see his face in all the faces they meet.

A beautiful poem by the Anglican poet George Herbert, titled simply “Love (III),” expresses what it feels like to be loved unconditionally by the Lord and to love others as he has loved us:

           Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back,
                        Guilty of dust and sin.
           But quick-ey’d Love, observing me grow slack
                        From my first entrance in,
           Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning,
                        If I lack’d anything.

           A guest, I answer’d, worthy to be here:
                        Love said, You shall be he.
           I the unkind, ungrateful? Ah my dear,
                        I cannot look on thee.
           Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
                        Who made the eyes but I? 

           Truth Lord, but I have marr’d them: let my shame
                        Go where it doth deserve.
           And know you not, says Love, who bore the blame?
                        My dear, then I will serve.
           You must sit down, says Love, and taste my meat:
                        So I did sit and eat.

In a similar vein, we read in Romans 12:13, “Contribute to the needs of the holy ones, exercise hospitality.” Priests do so because this virtue expands their horizons. It lifts them above and beyond the waves of heartless strife that tear people apart or promote the world’s emphasis on survival of the fittest. They go above and beyond the call of duty or the demands presented to them day by day and leave room for leisurely dining with family and friends, for welcoming strangers to the table, for sharing not only of their abundance but also from their want.

A Hospital for the Soul

Hospitality is healing. It invites priests, stressed as they understandably may be, to see life as a kind of hospital of the soul. In its embrace, loneliness lessens and joviality increases. Priests see themselves and others in the radiant light cast by the Divine Host. The veil between the temporal and the eternal parts a little, and they taste and savor the goodness of the Lord (see Ps 34:9).

Hospitality guards against hostility in any form — from a snide remark to slamming the door in someone’s face. If priests ever err in this regard, they readily apologize and try to be friendlier than they were on a bad day. When their heart is not really as hospitable as it ought to be, they pray for the grace to improve their responses to difficult situations, to show more empathy, and to do what Jesus would do.

Hospitable priests always seem to have time to hear someone’s confession. They wait for a conversation to come to its natural end instead of dismissing a demanding parishioner. They know how easily harshness can creep in when they ignore the gentle art and evangelizing power of hospitable priestly ministry. They avoid falling into the obstacle of fawning attentiveness aimed only at ingratiating themselves to others.

The Generosity of God

Hospitality fosters a peaceful, welcoming way of life that offsets the destructive forces of disrespect and indifference. In this hospital of the soul there is no room for the death-dealing, life-denying exercise of inhospitality. Even in the midst of a stressful day or a pressing project, hospitality heightens priestly sensitivity to what others need — from material goods to spiritual blessings. 

Without this virtue, it would be easy to succumb to inner feelings of impatience or time pressure. To be a host like Christ is to go beyond offering a routine word to a suffering soul; it is to make hospitality a habitual practice. Priests rightly aim to show by their behavior that all people deserve to be treated as “another Christ,” whatever state of life they represent or whatever predicament they need to resolve.

A military chaplain told me of a moment when food had run low in his unit because the supply train had been sabotaged. One soldier had saved a candy bar, which he sliced into sixteen pieces so everyone had a taste of chocolate. The dark atmosphere of combat took on a warmer hue. That gesture brought hope to a band of formerly despondent soldiers. Each bit of candy was like a tiny iron filing attracted by the magnet of hospitality.

This virtue reminds priests of their ultimate indigence, of their total dependence on the Lord. He dined with prostitutes and sinners, conversed with outcasts like the Samaritan woman, and allowed his hungry disciples to eat grain on the Sabbath (see Lk 6:1-5).

Hospitality invites priests to be as generous to others as God has been to them. They know they will receive a hundredfold in return for even the smallest act of kindness (see Lk 8:8). They minister to others only to find that the tables have turned and they have become the recipients of hospitality. 

And so, with the Lord of Hosts, they pray: “Lord, show me the way to be kind and courteous to everyone I meet. Free me from the hypocrisy of preaching with glowing words in public and being tempted to withhold the hospitality others crave. Fill me with the grace of selfless love so that in my company all may taste a morsel of replenishment from the heavenly banquet table you have prepared to nourish us in body and soul. Every time I receive hospitality, remind me of the importance of passing this gift on to others. May friends and strangers feel at home when they come through our parish door. Let them sense in my own and others’ hospitable presence how precious they are in your sight and how much they, too, ought to mirror the Good Shepherd all of us serve.”

Essentials of Hospitality

Hospitality is not merely about extending a friendly welcome to a stranger; it is an expression of the peace and peacemaking ideals of Christianity. It counters a culture of violence and the anonymity of social media, where contacts are kept at a distance and neighborly love becomes a luxury instead of the necessity Christ wants it to be.

Hospitality provides worshippers with a welcome space, a holy place, where they experience a sense of belonging. Parishes create an atmosphere that is warm and caring, characterized by a way of life that offers everyone in search of a home away from home the right balance of silence and speaking, of listening and responding. This virtue fosters in priests and people the feeling of being free from rejection and misunderstanding and freed for reception of the graces that flow from self-giving love. Christ at home in their hearts lets priests be at home with and hospitable to others in receptive empathy and empathetic receptivity.

The essence of hospitality thus resides in the following three facets of formation at the heart of priestly ministry:

1. Embrace others as worthy of Christ’s care in the warmth of a smile and with a word of encouragement. See them as “other Christs” with whom you, too, are happy to rest a while.
2. Encounter everyone who comes to your faith community with a listening ear and the promise of prayer. Offer them a helping hand, especially in a world that suffers, as priests well know, from rejection and marginalization.
3. Empathize with wounded souls by moving beyond canned advice and taking time to listen to their voiced or unvoiced concerns. Check first impressions and snap judgments and strive to foster genuine care and compassion. Let the true test of trust in the Lord be seen in conformity to his invitation to practice hospitality not only on special occasions but as a daily discipline of priestly life.

SUSAN MUTO, Ph.D., is executive director of the Epiphany Institute for Formative Spirituality in Pittsburgh and author of “Enter the Narrow Gate: Saint Benedict’s Steps to Christian Maturity” (OSV, $15.95) among numerous other books.