The radical act of friendship

There’s a quiet little petition circulating right now, born from the media frenzy that has surrounded New Zealand’s current pop-feminist-princess Lorde. The petition is to ‘Keep New Zealand Liveable for Lorde’, and the idea hints at something about us Kiwis: we see ourselves as friendly, laid-back and welcoming.

‘Less staring­­—more caring’ is the quirky slogan of the youth arts-based group that began the petition. ‘As young creatives, we’re super proud of how Lorde is repping little ol’ New Zealand. And we’d like to think that despite being a known face, she could still enjoy things like fish ‘n’ chips at the beach with her family without everyone, everywhere knowing about it and snapping shots,’ says the petition.

This is a small, under-the-radar movement. You won’t hear about it in the mainstream media (mainly because they are the ones at fault here), and it may not get much of an edge with the many other issues of injustice banging down our doors. But there is something deeply subversive about this; something deeply compassionate, and something truly, deeply Christian. It is the radical act of hospitality.

Radical cake baking

The very idea of ‘hospitality’ makes many of us stare shame-faced at the floor. I’m not a domestic goddess; I don’t want to rush around tidying and making cupcakes. I need ‘me’ time so I can stare meaningfully at the walls. Hospitality is definitely not my gift.

But Andrea Lopdell, who recently tutored ‘hospitality’ sessions at the Salvation Army’s creative arts camp Amplify, says this is the societal view of hospitality, but has nothing at all to do with ‘Christian hospitality’—which, as it turns out, is an outrageous, world-changing act of friendship.

‘That “Martha Stewart”-type of hospitality is all about showing off your possessions and your house and skills, and is essentially a selfish thing,’ reflects Andrea, ‘Whereas Christian hospitality is the complete opposite. It’s about welcoming God and other strangers. It’s about living your life in a way that makes room for others—and sometimes it might involve food.’

Or, as author Racheal Grabb says, ‘Keep your sense of humour and lose your sense of pride.’

Andrea echoes this concept. ‘Christian hospitality is about sharing rather than showing off,’ she says. ‘It’s an awareness that everyone has a story and everyone needs to be seen and noticed.

‘It might not be inviting someone to your house, but it might be things we usually see as interruptions in our day: listening to others, encouraging them, being able to pray for them, so they go away feeling more loved and special.’

Major Rebecca Gane, who co-organised Amplify, says hospitality was included as part of the arts programme ‘to recognise that, just as more “typical” art forms can help build the Kingdom and spread the gospel message, hospitality is also a very important part of living as a follower of Christ and being part of a Christian community’. She says, ‘The New Testament is full of examples and instruction about welcoming strangers and sharing with those in need, and there is an inclusiveness about the Gospel that ensures no one is left out—this is hospitality!’

The gift that no one has

As the daughter of Salvation Army officers Malcolm and Laurel Herring, Andrea recalls growing up surrounded by friends and strangers who were welcomed into their home. She and husband John have tried to honour that heritage as they’ve raised their own family of four children. But Andrea says she has never seen herself as having the ‘gift’ of hospitality.

When she examined the Bible, Andrea was shocked to realise that hospitality is never mentioned as a ‘gift’, but rather as a way of living for all who believe in Christ.

‘Hospitality is often on those “gift inventories” we do in church, and that gets us off the hook because we can just say, “Well, it’s not my gift”. But, in fact, it’s not listed as a gift in Scripture, it’s given as an instruction to all the Church,’ she says. (See Romans 12:13.)

When you look into it, Andrea is right. Hospitality is woven into every page of the Bible. Right at the beginning, when God made male and female so he could share himself with others. And then, when his hospitality was rejected by Adam and Eve (see Genesis 2), God spent the rest of Scripture trying to restore that relationship.

‘Jesus coming to earth [God becoming man so that he could be with us] was the culmination of his hospitality towards us,’ Andrea points out, adding that ‘the way Jesus lived his life was the epitome of hospitality.’

One of the moments in the life of Jesus that Andrea especially loves, is when Jesus spots a social outcast called Zacchaeus among the crowds. Jesus stops, and says, ‘Zaccheaus, I’m coming to your house today!’ (Luke 19:1-9), even though Zaccheaus was known for his wealth, gained by extortion. But Jesus noticed a lonely man. He allowed himself to be interrupted from his schedule to act hospitably.

‘And it was a complete game changer, it changed Zaccheaus’ life,’ reflects Andrea. As a result of Jesus’ visit, Zaccheaus gave away half of all he had, and paid back those he had cheated four times over. ‘The act of hospitality can turn people’s lives’ around, because it’s about the grace that God has offered us, which we then offer to others.’

The richest of meals

I once went to a theology conference where I heard the former principle of Laidlaw Bible College, Mark Strom, speak about the rapid growth of the early Christian church. Strom recounted that the early church had a policy of giving a meal and a bed for the night to any stranger that asked. They also encouraged women to learn to read, and these early Christian women became known as trustworthy translators for those who couldn’t read for themselves—whereas translators were known to swindle money from the illiterate classes.

These two acts of radical hospitality helped rapidly spread the good news that God longs for a personal relationship with us, and that we can know him through Jesus.

Indeed, almost every genuinely Christian movement in history has been a movement of hospitality. The Salvation Army was founded to welcome those on the edge of society, who weren’t accepted in the established church. While the mainstream church may have upheld the values of the day, Booth upheld the words of Jesus: ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me,’ (Matthew 25:40). And so began a movement offering hospitality to anyone in need, in the name of Jesus. Even today, The Salvation Army’s mission statement in New Zealand, Fiji and Tonga is ‘caring for people, transforming lives, reforming society’.

Freedom to welcome

‘Secular entertaining is a terrible bondage,’ says Karen Burton Mains, author of Open Heart, Open Home. ‘Its source is human pride. Demanding perfection, fostering the urge to impress, it is a rigorous taskmaster which enslaves. In contrast, scriptural hospitality is a freedom which liberates.’

Since embracing ‘Christian hospitality’ Andrea says she now worries less about having a tidy house and can laugh it off when a meal flops ‘because it’s not about me, so that’s really freeing’.

In recent months, Andrea and her husband John have welcomed two young foster children into their home.

People often ask Andrea why they are doing it. ‘Why would you not do it?’ is her simple reply. ‘We initially looked at adopting overseas, and along the way we discovered what a huge need there is here in New Zealand. We felt like we would have to have a really good reason not to foster, with everything we have been blessed with,’ says Andrea.

The children have been with the Lopdell family for six months —the longest they have lived in one place. In the act of caring for the boys, Andrea says she has grown to love them, and to understand and feel compassion for their parents as well. She has seen the older child go from needing to be in charge and taking an almost adult role, to relaxing and settling into the role of being a child in the family.

For Andrea, the biggest challenge has been learning to welcome strangers into their home—they have built a good relationship with the boys’ grandparents, and their wider family. ‘When you welcome strangers, there’s perhaps not so much of a return, and they challenge your boundaries. For example, one person was visiting the boys and she just walked into my bedroom, and I couldn’t believe I felt so violated,’ she remembers.

‘Welcoming friends and family is really comfortable and you can stay who you are, but when you welcome in strangers you get challenged. I have to examine my own attitudes and allow my relationship with God to grow so that I can become more like him.’

The heart of God

‘Christian hospitality involves surrender, coming to a place of gratitude where you recognise that everything you have is from God. It’s not ours to hang on to; it’s ours to be shared,’ sums up Andrea.

Following the call of Christ means following the call to hospitality. And that strikes at our very heart. We have been born and bred into a selfish (otherwise known as individualistic) society, but hospitality asks us to live in a profoundly unselfish way. It means allowing ourselves to be interrupted from our task lists. It means that we stop to listen. It means that we take an interest in the blank faces on the street. And when the Spirit moves us, we may even reach out to them.

That’s why a small petition asking that we all treat Lorde like a real human being, hints at a deeper truth. It’s about caring for another’s needs, over and above our own entertainment. It’s about treating a vulnerable person as precious for who they truly are, and not as just a commodity.

Hospitality seems deeply difficult and sometimes just too tiring, for the very fact that it requires us to surrender our own desires. But that is also its beauty. We lose our lives to gain it. In hospitality, we discover the radical heart of God.

By Ingrid Barratt

Here’s what the creators of the petition ‘Keep New Zealand liveable for Lorde’ have to say …

‘None of us like all that invasive-up-in-your-grill-paparazzi-tabloid mess you see overseas. We don’t see much of that here, and we’d like to keep it that way. Let’s tell the New Zealand media (and the wider population) to continue to respect Lorde and her right to privacy, so she can continue to live the good life in our beautiful land.

P.S. We don’t presume to speak on behalf of Lorde. This is speaking on behalf of people who think celebrity commodification is dumb. www.change.org for more information