Long-Table Hospitality
Reading shelter magazines is something I do to relax. Once a month the mailbox graces me with the pleasure of poring over glossy English floral gardens, country cottage makeovers in America's heartland, or ideas for how to organize my all my space in a weekend.(Dreams don't always come true, but isn't it nice to dream?)
Seldom has such a magazine convicted me. One magazine, though, a couple of years ago featured an article I haven't been able to forget. Yet it had nothing to do with gardens, cottages, or even organization. It was about long-table hospitality. I don't remember the title, the author, or the magazine. What I do remember is the picture of a modern city loft with minimalist furniture and a couple who wanted to get to know their neighbors.
This couple had moved to New York (I think) and purchased an apartment on their double incomes. Day after day they got up, got dressed, took the elevator down to their building's parking garage, put in a full day's work, came home, ate, relaxed, went to bed, started over the next day. They realized they were seeing the same people on the elevators, in the garage, at work, and on the streets. But after six months they still hadn't officially met any of them. In fact, they couldn't match the names on the mailboxes with their neighbors down the hall.
At first they wondered why no one was saying more than the perfunctory, "Hi, how's it going?" , let alone inviting them over for wine and cheese or Chinese take-out. Finally they decided to make a change. They would take the initiative and invite a couple over. To their surprise, the couple accepted immediately and said they were shocked by this old-fashioned gesture. They became fast friends around the table.
I vividly recall the picture of their table. It was exceptionally long maple table and took up most of their dining/living room combined space. Surrounding the table sat about 18 people in mismatched folding chairs , each guest happily engaged in dinner conversation. At two other round tables sat an additional dozen people, while still more had sidled up to the kitchen island.
What struck me about the article was the evolution of the hospitality. One couple decided that pity parties aren't well-attended, so they reached out. To their amazement, people were no longer cold to them. In fact, they had been hungry for community and friendship. Together the two couples decided to have dinner together the following Friday around the long table--under one condition: that each of them would bring another neighbor with them. Soon there were 8 and 12 people attending Friday night long-table dinners.
The way they organized it was simple: the hostess would plan the entree for the following week and tell everyone over dinner. Guests were asked to bring something (didn't matter what) to go with it, plus a community beverage, a folding chair--and a new guest. Soon the Friday night long-table dinners became "famous" in their apartment building. Occasionally the original hosts couldn't host, but the guests took it upon themselves to keep the dinner but change locations. Within a year, the couple's loft became wonderfully jammed with 40 or more people on a Friday night, enjoying community.
Since the day I read that article, I've been inspired. But have I acted on the inspiration? No. Well, I've had a couple different neighbors in or taken them food in a crisis, but I have consistently made excuses. (They're busy; Paul's tired; they might be allergic to dogs; my house has so many unfinished projects; I should start with having more Christians over anyway; what would we talk about? I could invite neighbors to Alpha instead.) The list of excuses has been long.
Yet my life is short. I was reminded of that in scripture this week and the Lord is stirring in me a desire for evangelism and increased hospitality. And not safe hospitality with Christians and biblical fellowship all the time. While that is excellent, it doesn't include strangers. Maybe some strange people, but not dictionary-definition "strangers"! I'm talking about sharing a meal with people I don't really know. People who haven't heard of church except as a building, haven't heard of grace except as a prayer before a meal , or haven't heard that Jesus is alive, except as a phrase on Easter.
Would you please pray that God will ignite my whole family's hearts for hospitality with the desire to love our neighbors ? (Believe me, we all have our own set of excuses, even if we are "for" getting to know the neighbors. ) Do we love them enough to put forth effort to introduce them to Jesus?
If you have any thoughts about this topic, I'd love to hear them.
Seldom has such a magazine convicted me. One magazine, though, a couple of years ago featured an article I haven't been able to forget. Yet it had nothing to do with gardens, cottages, or even organization. It was about long-table hospitality. I don't remember the title, the author, or the magazine. What I do remember is the picture of a modern city loft with minimalist furniture and a couple who wanted to get to know their neighbors.
This couple had moved to New York (I think) and purchased an apartment on their double incomes. Day after day they got up, got dressed, took the elevator down to their building's parking garage, put in a full day's work, came home, ate, relaxed, went to bed, started over the next day. They realized they were seeing the same people on the elevators, in the garage, at work, and on the streets. But after six months they still hadn't officially met any of them. In fact, they couldn't match the names on the mailboxes with their neighbors down the hall.
At first they wondered why no one was saying more than the perfunctory, "Hi, how's it going?" , let alone inviting them over for wine and cheese or Chinese take-out. Finally they decided to make a change. They would take the initiative and invite a couple over. To their surprise, the couple accepted immediately and said they were shocked by this old-fashioned gesture. They became fast friends around the table.
I vividly recall the picture of their table. It was exceptionally long maple table and took up most of their dining/living room combined space. Surrounding the table sat about 18 people in mismatched folding chairs , each guest happily engaged in dinner conversation. At two other round tables sat an additional dozen people, while still more had sidled up to the kitchen island.
What struck me about the article was the evolution of the hospitality. One couple decided that pity parties aren't well-attended, so they reached out. To their amazement, people were no longer cold to them. In fact, they had been hungry for community and friendship. Together the two couples decided to have dinner together the following Friday around the long table--under one condition: that each of them would bring another neighbor with them. Soon there were 8 and 12 people attending Friday night long-table dinners.
The way they organized it was simple: the hostess would plan the entree for the following week and tell everyone over dinner. Guests were asked to bring something (didn't matter what) to go with it, plus a community beverage, a folding chair--and a new guest. Soon the Friday night long-table dinners became "famous" in their apartment building. Occasionally the original hosts couldn't host, but the guests took it upon themselves to keep the dinner but change locations. Within a year, the couple's loft became wonderfully jammed with 40 or more people on a Friday night, enjoying community.
Since the day I read that article, I've been inspired. But have I acted on the inspiration? No. Well, I've had a couple different neighbors in or taken them food in a crisis, but I have consistently made excuses. (They're busy; Paul's tired; they might be allergic to dogs; my house has so many unfinished projects; I should start with having more Christians over anyway; what would we talk about? I could invite neighbors to Alpha instead.) The list of excuses has been long.
Yet my life is short. I was reminded of that in scripture this week and the Lord is stirring in me a desire for evangelism and increased hospitality. And not safe hospitality with Christians and biblical fellowship all the time. While that is excellent, it doesn't include strangers. Maybe some strange people, but not dictionary-definition "strangers"! I'm talking about sharing a meal with people I don't really know. People who haven't heard of church except as a building, haven't heard of grace except as a prayer before a meal , or haven't heard that Jesus is alive, except as a phrase on Easter.
Would you please pray that God will ignite my whole family's hearts for hospitality with the desire to love our neighbors ? (Believe me, we all have our own set of excuses, even if we are "for" getting to know the neighbors. ) Do we love them enough to put forth effort to introduce them to Jesus?
If you have any thoughts about this topic, I'd love to hear them.
posted by Zoanna at
5:52 PM
3 Comments:
Excellent, Zoanna. I'll be praying for you about this. I'm convicted/inspired also. We've been wanting to have our neighbors over for a while but haven't for one excuse or another. I'm freshly challenged.
I read that same article, too! (I can't remember where it was, either.) Thanks for the reminder and the encouragement.
This is an excellent idea, Zoanna. Thanks for blogging about it. My take home one-liner is "pity-parties are not well-attended". Keep us posted if you decide to do this. I'd love to hear how it works.
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