By: Chef Tamago
Luke 24:13-19 – “Now that same day two of them were on their way to a village called Emmaus, which was about seven miles from Jerusalem. Together they were discussing everything that had taken place. And while they were discussing and arguing, Jesus Himself came near and began to walk along with them. But they were prevented from recognizing Him. Then He asked them, “What is this dispute that you’re having with each other as you are walking?” And they stopped walking and looked discouraged. The one named Cleopas answered Him, “Are You the only visitor in Jerusalem who doesn’t know the things that happened there in these days?” “What things?” He asked them.”
There’s a series of commercials I find amusing. All the anecdotes have to do with becoming like your parents, and how not to fall into their habits. Included are things like being shocked at someone’s blue hair, talking out loud to the cell phone while it’s on speaker mode, and giving unsolicited advice. I guess at 33 years old, Jesus already fell prey to the last, it doesn’t seem like these two travelers on their way to Emmaus wanted the extra company. They were involved in a heated discussion regarding Jesus and did not want to be bothered. We know how the story ends. Jesus breaks the bread and pours the wine, suddenly vanishes from their presence, and Cleopas and his friend gasp, “weren’t our hearts burning within us?”
Here is an oft overlooked element of hospitality, that of receiving people into yourself by injecting yourself into their lives. How thoughtless it is to eavesdrop, and yet that may well be the first or only way to know what the concerns are of those around you. Perhaps what we need is a supernatural guard over our ears that we might hear only that which the Lord wants us to hear. The children’s song has a bit of truth to it, “be careful little ears what you hear.” Yet, we must hear, and even if what we hear is offensive, it may well point us to a need. If the Lord allows you to be present in someone else’s conversation, though, He will use that opportunity to the full extent that you allow yourself to be used. Perhaps it is in listening, perhaps it will be in explaining. Philip used a simple inquiry to the eunuch, “what are you reading,” to bring himself into a life-changing opportunity. (Acts 8:26-39) Philip explained by opening the scriptures to the eunuch, Jesus explained both in that manner and in the breaking of bread. Hospitality in this vein is not a one-size-fits-all proposition. It might involve coffee, asking for help in a store when you can’t read the kanji, or carrying a parcel.
My wife and I had a close relationship with a couple living in the Kanto Plains. The man’s mother also lived there, who was Buddhist. Her son and his wife had become Christians when studying abroad. They had invited us to stay regularly when we were traveling through the area. The Obāchan had lost her husband in the war and blamed the US for it. One evening, while doing the dishes with my wife, she said simply, “you know my husband died in the war.” This seemed a strange thing to say, but it was clear she was saying, “it’s okay, I have released it, it is forgiven.” The next day while we were going about our business, we met her in the street, a good six or eight blocks from her home, struggling with a load of plants she had just bought. I volunteered to carry them for her, and of course she insisted I stay for a snack as a thank you. Later, she told her daughter-in-law that she had just prayed, “God, send someone to help me. These are heavy.” That was the moment we came. We don’t know all that happened in her heart, but it was clear that the Christian witness to her had brought her to a soft place. Two nights later she passed away in the Ofuro with a smile on her face.
Our witness, when we are guided to interject ourselves in another’s life, is a pure act of hospitality, being kind to strangers. Sometimes we are entertaining angels, sometimes we become that figurative “angel” to the other person. It might be a sceptic or a seeker, it might be a seasoned missionary or someone just off the plane. Having eyes to see and ears to hear is the first step in hospitality.