Hospitality…means primarily the creation of a free space where the stranger can enter and become a friend instead of an enemy. Hospitality is not to change people, but to offer them space where change can take place. It is not to bring men and women over to our side, but to offer freedom not disturbed by dividing lines. It is not to lead our neighbors into a corner where there are no alternatives left, but to open a wide spectrum of options for choice and commitment. It is not an educated intimidation with good books, good stories and good works, but the liberation of fearful hearts so that words can find roots and bear ample fruit. It is not a method of making our God and our way into the criteria of happiness, but the opening of an opportunity to others to find their God and their way. The paradox of hospitality is that it wants to create emptiness, not a fearful emptiness, but a friendly emptiness where strangers can enter and discover themselves as created free; free to sing their own songs, speak their own languages, dance their own dances; free also to leave and follow their own vocations. Hospitality is not a subtle invitation to adopt the life style of the host, but the gift of a chance for the guest to find his own.
I bought a new (old) car this evening—no Bluetooth in it, just a CD player. I’m excited (perhaps overly so) to revert to CDs and move away from streaming, at least in part because of reasons @ayjay gestures at here.
(from the CD booklet of The Radio Dept.’s Clinging to a Scheme)
Morning, Austin
Christ Taking Leave of His Disciples (c. 1308-11) by Duccio di Buoninsegna:
(I’m posting this as a visual companion to the current sermon series at Providence through the Upper Room discourse in John 13-17.)