Oh, the irony of fate… The central theme of this Sunday’s reading is hospitality and bang on cue my hermit-like life has been thrown into disarray by a procession of visitors, different ones each day this weekend. So, firstly I had to tidy up my flat to make it visibly hospitable. The living room and the dining table were of particular concern because – secondly – I had to make some excellent food to welcome my guests and it’s much easier to serve it on a flat surface accessible from chairs. Then there is the vital matter of cooking; we all know it takes time and effort. Despite all that work, as my guests’ visits are not driven by their insatiable desire to listen to my words of wisdom, I cannot absolve myself of the host’s duties by referring to today’s gospel reading, where Jesus praised Mary for sitting and listening to him rather than helping her busy sister Martha. My guests don’t want my sermons but – strangely enough – they enjoy my company. To be honest, I enjoy their visits too.
What is the point of hospitality? I’ve found a rather interesting description: “Hospitality has dozens of different definitions, but it can be broken down to the act of making someone feel welcome, usually through entertainment and comfort.” It’s taken from a blog regarding the hospitality industry, but I think this broad definition applies to our own, non-profit personal arrangements. Essentially, whatever we do as a host we do in order to fulfil the act of making someone feel welcome. We have to remember that hospitality works both ways; when the guests turn up and enjoy the visit, the hosts feel positive about themselves and appreciated. The best non-verbal compliment for the cook? Plates left empty by the diners. In such a context, Jesus’ reaction to his host’s complaints seems to go against the well-established and common understanding of hospitality. Or does it?
As someone who effectively lives like a hermit perhaps I’m not qualified to share my opinion on hosting parties. But even with my highly limited experience, I know that hospitality isn’t purely about filling your gob with food; it is a welcome and important accompaniment to the crucial part of it: social interaction. We do it by verbal and non-verbal means. We talk and listen to one another but also communicate via body language. Even the best food tastes odd when it’s served in a socially awkward or unpleasant setting, while good company makes up for a mediocre meal. That was the meaning of Jesus’ gentle response to Martha’s complaints: “you worry and fret about so many things, and yet few are needed, indeed only one. Mary has chosen the better part.” Last Friday, while I was preparing lunch, my friend stood at the door of my tiny kitchen and we kept chatting, instead of leaving them on their own in the empty living room.
The Holy Mass is a special hospitality event that each one of us is invited to each Sunday. It’s a two-course meal; the Word of God is served first, followed by the Eucharist. Both are inseparably connected. In the first one, we enter a dialogue with Jesus; like Mary, we sit at His feet and listen to him. Through His words, we learn to look at our lives and challenges from a different perspective. Those words reignite our hope, faith and love. In the Eucharistic part of Mass that follows we participate in Jesus’ self-sacrifice on the cross and then nourish our souls with His sacramental Body and Blood, so we have the strength, endurance and perseverance to go through the week. We also build up and develop bonds with other members of the community; bonds stronger than social ones because they are rooted in the faith. Everyone is invited to this extraordinary feast; it’s up to each one of us whether we accept the invitation.
Image by vivienviv0 from Pixabay