Hope and HospitalitySample

An Unexpected Meal

In Genesis 18, we find Abraham and Sarah taking a nap in their tent in the heat of the day. God appears to Abraham in the form of three strangers – unexpected guests who arrive at an inconvenient time, carrying an unlikely story. Abraham and Sarah behave far better than I have at times, when strangers have turned up at my front door unexpectedly and inconveniently. Even though Abraham and Sarah are caught off guard, they prepare an above-and-beyond meal for their guests.

Abraham’s hospitality teaches us that God calls us to welcome strangers, when it suits us and when it doesn’t. The way we selflessly serve people in such scenarios is an act of true worship. Abraham and Sarah could’ve come up with all kinds of excuses – the kind you and I might use. The timing of the guests’ arrival couldn’t have been more inconvenient for them, and yet even for people with a strong culture of hospitality, Abraham pulls out all the stops. I would’ve been too busy. Too tired. Too private. Too precious about my time and space and hard-earned supplies. Abraham is none of these. He’s extravagant with his hospitality.

The three strangers offer the unlikely prediction that aged, barren Sarah will fall pregnant within a year – and she laughs derisively. Impossible! Twenty years earlier, Abraham and Sarah had believed in the grand hospitality of God. So much so that they’d left everyone and everything behind, trusting God to provide them with a land to live in and a family to pass it onto. But twenty years had passed, and they were still childless and homeless – and even older. Perhaps, like Sarah, there’s something you’ve been praying about for years – maybe decades. And like Sarah, you need to know today that God hasn’t forgotten you or written you off.

Sarah failed to recognise God Himself in these strangers, and we tend to make the same mistake. There’s evidence throughout scripture of God appearing to people in ordinary ways. He creates space for genuine, unguarded connections with us, free from fear or pretence, when He comes alongside us as a stranger. These authentic encounters remind us that what we eat and who we eat with was always supposed to be an act of worship. In a xenophobic world, we’re called to make a difference by treating strangers as though they may be God Himself.

Worship isn’t an event – it’s a lifestyle. And an integral part of a worshipful life is showing bighearted hospitality to the strangers and neighbours God brings across our paths. When we forgo our comfort to welcome the destitute or downtrodden, it spreads hope, and hope changes the world. Abraham and Sarah modelled this commitment to generosity, and from them, a nation was born that would model it to the world. What a privilege we have to be a part of that heritage: bringing hope one meal at a time and forging a future where people can live together in peace.