Radical Hospitality

For several days this week I met up with four seminary friends for a reunion/retreat in Lexington, Virginia.  We stayed at a house that one of the women had visited before to help lead a spiritual retreat in the past.  I'm not sure why, but I'd expected a run down farm house - something adequate and decent with Shrine Mont like facilities.  (No offense, Shrine Mont.)  Instead, it was one of the most amazing and comfortable places I've ever stayed.  Abundant rooms, beautifully furnished with beds and pillows more comfortable than mine at home.  A three-story tower with 360 degree views of mountains and farms.  A huge modern kitchen with every accoutrement I could imagine.  A living room with enough chairs and couches for all of us to sprawl out on centered around a huge hearth for cozy fires on the rainy days.  And a gas outdoor fire and another fire pit on top of a hill for the nicer days.  A porch with a bunch of swinging chairs.  A labyrinth etched into the wild grass with natural stones.  And everywhere you turned in the house were reminders that God is present.  Stained glass windows of Bible stories, crosses, icons, Bibles.  One of our favorite pieces was a bowl and pitcher adorning the downstairs bathroom that served as a reminder of Jesus washing the feet of his disciples.  I learned that the couple that owns the house uses it sometimes as a meeting place for their own large family.  But that when they are not using it, which I think is much of the time, they open it up to people for spiritual retreats.  They don't charge for the use of the incredible space, only asking that people make a donation to one of the religious aid groups that they sponsor.  At first I couldn't get over how they could feel comfortable letting us -- perfect strangers -- stay alone in their homes.  But then it made me start evaluating how well I live up to the Christian call to radical hospitality, which this family has so clearly made a priority.