During college, I attended a thriving Baptist church that provided shuttle services for students at my university. Since most on-campus students didn’t own vehicles, it was a blessing to have a reliable ride every Sunday.
An even greater blessing for us was a sweet couple named Bob and DJ who hosted young adult luncheons from September to April. Once a month, DJ whipped up a delicious crowd-pleaser like chili, pizza, or sub sandwiches, and then we laughed, talked, and played games in their living room until mid-afternoon.
It was a simple act of hospitality on Bob and DJ’s part, but it meant the world to us college kids because it gave us a break from cafeteria food and a chance to have fun off-campus.
Bob and DJ fostered a sense of community among those of us who were far away from our families and hometowns. When I finished my bachelor’s degree in 2019, I cherished the thought of returning to that city—and that Baptist church—after I completed my master’s degree and launched my counseling career.
As it turns out, God had other plans for me. Although I’ve made some lovely friends in my new city, I often miss my college days and the hospitality that was extended to me during that season of life.
The Heart of Hospitality
Paul emphasizes the importance of hospitality in Romans 12:9–13:
Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality. (NIV)
Culturally, we may be tempted to think of hospitality as pulling out the fancy china when company comes for dinner or serving tea and coffee after a meal. But if we look at the context of Paul’s instruction to “practice hospitality,” we see that hospitality goes beyond presentation to relation:
“Be devoted to one another in love.”
“Honor one another above yourselves.”
“Share with the Lord’s people who are in need.”
Hospitality, at its core, is relational. It’s personal. It’s about more than inviting people into your home. It’s about inviting them into your heart.
Hospitality Is the Heart of the Gospel
I spent most of 2025 church hunting. At each new church, people were usually friendly toward me, but for all the smiles, handshakes, and we’re-glad-you’re-here’s, I didn’t feel welcomed.
What I needed most during that season of “spiritual homelessness,” as I called it, wasn’t a QR code to scan or a gift from the Connections Corner. I needed someone to befriend me, to take the time to sit with me in my pain, and to pray for me—to offer me a sense of belonging.
If you’ve ever moved to a new city or endured a season of uprooting, you may be familiar with this sense of “spiritual homelessness”—the uncertainty and discomfort of feeling as though you don’t really belong anywhere. Or perhaps you’ve been blessed with a tightly-knit church family, but you feel inhibited by limited resources or a hectic schedule, and the thought of extending hospitality feels more like a burden than a joy.
Regardless of our current capacities or spiritual loneliness, all of us can find comfort in knowing we serve a God who not only welcomes us with open arms but actively seeks us out to draw us into his family.
In Luke 14, Jesus used the parable of the great banquet to demonstrate not only God’s lavish generosity but his pursuit of even the outcasts:
Jesus replied: “A certain man was preparing a great banquet and invited many guests. At the time of the banquet he sent his servant to tell those who had been invited, ‘Come, for everything is now ready.’
But they all alike began to make excuses. . . . The servant came back and reported this to his master. Then the owner of the house became angry and ordered his servant, ‘Go out quickly into the streets and alleys of the town and bring in the poor, the crippled, the blind, and the lame.’
‘Sir,’ the servant said, ‘what you ordered has been done, but there is still room.’
Then the master told his servant, ‘Go out to the roads and country lanes and compel them to come in, so that my house will be full.’” (Luke 14:16–18, 21–23, emphasis mine)
Christ Jesus embodied this radical hospitality by entering into sinners’ homes and dining with prostitutes and tax collectors, demonstrating through both his teaching and his actions that everyone is invited to sit at God’s table.
What an encouragement to know we serve a God who ministers to the lonely, hurting, and broken-hearted, regardless of our background or social standing.
Open Homes, Open Hearts
In our fast-paced, hyper-individualistic culture, it’s easy to lose the art of gathering people around our tables and creating space for others in our hearts and homes. But as the bride of Christ, we have both the privilege and the responsibility of carrying on the gospel work of hospitality.
Thankfully, that doesn’t always need to be a three-course meal. Sometimes, it can be as simple as a cup of tea or a walk in the park—small but intentional gestures that communicate to others that they are loved and valued.
Regardless of what stage of life we find ourselves in—whether we live in a dorm room or a three-story home—we can show hospitality to others by emulating the heart of Christ, who invites us to the wedding feast and has gone ahead to prepare a room for us (John 14:2).
