A Four-Letter Word
Earlier this week a speaker opined that the Church should be known for hospitality and not hostility.
Certainly. Agreed.
And that is a problem because as the Church continues to live out its life in this alien world it often is moved toward hostility. We fight against this. We fight against that. We fight against outsiders. Sometimes, we fight against insiders.
There are things that are wrong with the world, the times, this nation and even the Church. Certainly. (Of course, that is always true of the world, the times, every nation and the Church of every age.) There are enemies and obstacles and forces at work against the Church. Even dangerous ones.
The early Church was known for its hospitality. Christians took in orphans and widows. Christians blessed those who persecuted them. Christians cared for the weak and the suffering. Christians developed the concept of hospitals as institutions of hospitality for the vulnerable.
This took place at a time when the world was hostile to the Church even as Jesus had told them it would be. Then like now there were enemies and obstacles and forces at work against the Church. But the Church did not fight fire with fire. It did not meet hostility in like measure. Instead it met hostility with hospitality.
Hostility? Hospitality?
Did you know that the difference between hostility and hospitality is just four letters? Take a look. See if you can count them. Do you see them?
These are the letters “a”, “e”, “f” and “r”. The difference between hostility and hospitality are these letters: f-e-a-r. The difference between hostility and hospitality is a four letter word.
There is fear in the Church. We have lost our place of influence. We have lost the moral high ground—since all grounds for morality have evaporated. We face soft but ever hardening persecution. Politics. Media. Money. Education.
That place of fear shapes how we view others, how we react to the world and the people in it. Because of fear, more and more we view “the other”, the stranger as a threat. Viewing others as threats leads to hostility.
The early Church viewed “the other”, the stranger as one for whom Christ died. Such a viewpoint leads to hospitality.
For the Church to regain its rightful mission footing in the world it must in Christ come to terms with and disabuse itself of fear. How many times did our Good Shepherd tell us we need not fear? How many times did our Good Shepherd promise us life and salvation? How many times did our Good Shepherd assure us that he has authority over all?
For Christians to regain our rightful practice of hospitality over hostility let’s turn off and away from those things that feed our fear. Let’s turn toward the voice of the Good Shepherd that calms our fears, the voice that casts them away.
Is there a more foul four-letter word than “fear”? It is the difference between hostility and hospitality.