The Hospitality of the Kingdom of God

I think Africa is rubbing off on me. Because I absolutely love having visitors. 

Hospitality may be one of the most prominent cultural values that I have noticed among the dagara people. At least it's the most striking and touching to me. They love to have people over. Take some of my teammates for example, who on more days than not have someone staying at their house - a grandmother or aunt, a pastor from another village, the son of a cousin who has come to our town to go to school, or a young couple newly married that are passing through town on their way to see friends. 

Not only do they love to open their homes, but they also show hospitality in the food they share. A meal is always prepared with enough in mind for guests, just in case someone pops in at dinner time and needs to eat. In the United States, it would be considered impolite to show up at someone's house around dinner time unannounced. In Burkina, it is never impolite to be an unannounced visitor; in fact, it would be impolite for an unannounced visitor not to be offered something to eat and drink! 

Here is another cultural thing about hospitality that is the opposite of what I (in my western mindset) thought. After about several months of living in Burkina, I had never been to one of my teammate's homes. I thought it strange that she had never invited me, until one day when she asked me why I had never come to visit. She was almost hurt or puzzled, as if she thought I was the strange one for not having already come. Here I was waiting to be invited while the whole time she was  waiting for me to come! Western minds wait to be invited - to come uninvited would be rude. But Burkina people show love and value to others by taking the initiative to visit them. 

I've learned that visiting people shows them how much I care, and that I should always be ready to welcome and receive uninvited guests! I should consider it an honor that people come to visit, especially when I'm not expecting them. 

Although this seems like a slight cultural difference, we really aren't so different - us Americans and the Burkinabé. When Daniel and Rachel Kiser came to visit three weeks this month, their visit (although very much announced and planned in advance) showed me how much they care, and they communicated value to me by coming to visit. In return, I enjoyed hosting them just like the Burkinabé love hosting their guests. 

Whenever visitors come, I have the tendency and desire to "show off" every aspect of life and culture and ministry so the guests can see the best of what God is doing here among the dagara. I think Daniel and Rachel got a little bit of that experience, but I told them from the start that their trip wasn't about being impressed, but rather about simply seeing, experiencing, and participating in missionary life. And sometimes that may not be exactly what we picture in our minds when we think about mission work. 

Mission work makes most people think of mission trips, which makes them think about work projects and development projects, you know, building houses and church buildings and distributing aid and doing medical clinics. And if all you have is a week to do a mission trip, then fill it with great projects like that. But missional life is not really like that. 

Missional life is about people, not projects. Relationships, not accomplishments. Presence, not productivity. Missional life is just living life with people, being a part of their communities, and being Jesus in those environments. 

So how did Daniel and Rachel spend most of their time with us? When a friend's wife was pregnant and close to delivery and worried about breastfeeding, we visited her and gave her some medical advice and spiritual encouragement. When a teammate's daughter was discouraged after failing a big test, we visited her. When a baby in the infants program got sick, we visited him. When a child got sick and we took on his case, we visited him in his village. When a new church building was being built, we visited it. When we moved into a new house, we visited the neighbors. When we worked on the garden one Saturday, we opened the doors and let the neighborhood kids come in and help. We visited the young scholars. We visited churches. We spent most of our time visiting, and that's pretty normal. 

With each visit, we received hospitality. Even the poorest of the poor offered us fresh water or a  cold soda or a bag of peanuts or a dozen eggs or a chicken from their flock as a way to say thank you for the care expressed in an unannounced visit. 

So maybe missions is all about hospitality. I have to confess, it's not what I expected when I moved to Africa, but I love it. It's not what I thought ministry would look like. I'm not sure it's what visitors expect either, but whether they know it or not, they find themselves right in the middle of the story. Their visit encourages us, and we welcome them warmly. Then we spending our time showing care and compassion by visiting others, and we accept the hospitality that they show to us. 

That's the beautiful thing about hospitality - it works both ways. Both parties give, and in their giving find that they have received a multiplied blessing. I think the kingdom of God is like that; it's like God's hospitality to us and our hospitality to him. First, he welcomes us into relationship with him and the Father, and we come to him and make our home in him and his love, and he withholds nothing from us. We receive his hospitality. He then comes to us and makes his home in us as a way to say he loves us and values us, and then we in return welcome him with open hearts and give him our whole lives. He is the recipient of our hospitality as well. 

May our lives and mission be a reflection of the hospitality of the kingdom of God,