That command occurs in I Peter 4:9, given at a time when the church, still in its infancy, was aware that there were many believers, persecuted severely, who had lost everything they had. They would fit the description of the apostle John, who wrote: “Beloved thou doest faithfully whatsoever thou doest to the brethren and to strangers which have borne witness of thy charity before the church; whom if thou bring forward on their journey after a godly sort, thou shalt do well: because that for His name’s sake they went forth, taking nothing of the Gentiles.” (III John 5-7) Hospitality was not only nice, it was needed; thus we read in Hebrews 13:2: “Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.”
How about hospitality in this 21st century? Maybe not so common, especially here in America. But when I was about 12 years old, one of the men in our church often invited someone to Sunday dinner—without notifying his wife ahead of time. Instead, he waited until they were heading home after church to announce to her: “By the way, I invited so and so to dinner today.” We happened to be one of those “lucky “families one Sunday, and the hospitable man’s wife was ready for us: We all enjoyed peanut-butter sandwiches for Sunday dinner! Better than the sandwiches, though, was the good fellowship enjoyed by all! (I still remember that occasion 70+ years later!)
Another time that stands out in my memory was when, as a Bible college student, a friend and I were driving up to Roan Mountain (from Greenville, SC) on a Sunday morning to check out the prospects of a youth ministry there. We got about half-way there and wanted to attend church somewhere; and there was a Presbyterian church nearby, just outside of Burnsville, NC. So we stopped in. It was a very small assembly gathered for worship, and they did not have a preacher that Sunday. Following the service, an elderly looking lady introduced herself as “Viney.” She said she lived very close by and asked if we would like to come to dinner. We did not hesitate to say, “Sure!” And so began a friendship that would involve my buddy and I being the recipients of some genuine Southern hospitality. On future weekends, we would travel that route to Bakersville, NC, stopping about half-way to spend Saturday night at the hospitable home of our friends near Burnsville. Mrs. H would have a chicken dinner on the table (often we got there late) with all the trimmings, plus a chocolate cake that we enjoyed before climbing into our beds, with covers turned down over clean sheets. How could anyone ever forget that kind of hospitality to virtual strangers? (Not that we were angels by any stretch of the imagination!)
Well, there are many such instances to recall; I know any evangelist could recite story after story of unusual experiences while traveling. The most unusual experience I ever had was when I was traveling each weekend to a small town 175 miles northwest of Dallas, Texas, to preach on Sundays for a church without a pastor. I was a student at Dallas Theological Seminary and also worked full-time at the Dallas County Detention Center. One Sunday, I invited a buddy to go with me as Ellen had three little ones to care for at home. We arrived at the church and, as planned, I preached the morning sermon, after which the wife of the church’s main leader invited us over for lunch, announcing it would be “bologna” sandwiches. I thanked her for the invitation, secretly sure that “bologna sandwiches” were not really what we would eat for Sunday dinner. This man had a good job, and the family was comfortably well to do. So, Ron and I showed up for Sunday dinner, and while the hostess finished with last-minute preparations, we conversed with the head of the house until his wife announced, “Dinner is ready.” When we got to the dining room, the wife directed each of us to our chairs. Sitting down at our appointed places, my friend and I salivated over the prospect of a delicious, hot meal, since it had been a long drive and a long day. We were a bit surprised when the hostess delivered beautiful, juicy steaks to her own plate, as well as her husband’s and teenage daughter’s plates—and set a bologna sandwich in front of me and my seminary friend. She did this matter-of-factly and without a change of expression on her countenance. So, without a word of surprise—and, hopefully, with no change of expression on our faces—Ron and I ate our bologna sandwiches, thanked our hosts for the dinner, and returned to the what was then a vacant house to get some rest before the evening service. (We also probably ate the sack lunches that our wives had packed.) After the evening service, we made the trip back to Dallas.
I never figured out why that happened that way, but it did not keep me from continuing my interim ministry there until the Lord moved us to Wichita, Kansas in September of 1971, where more valuable lessons—mostly precious, a few painful—awaited us before He would move us to Indianapolis, where we have ministered for 47 years now, the last 7 years as a retired “pastor emeritus.” (More on hospitality in a later blog.)
“And Joanna the wife of Chuza Herod’s steward, and Susanna, and many others… ministered unto Him (Jesus) of their substance.” (Luke 8:3)
YOU and GOD 