“Opening our home to others is a wonderful gift and a neglected discipline in the church. But we easily forget the whole point of hospitality. Think of it this way: Good hospital-ity is making your home a hospital. The idea is that friends and family, and the wounded and weary people, come to your home and leave helped and refreshed. And yet, too often hospitality is a nerve-wracking experience for hosts and guests alike. Instead of setting our guests at ease, we set them on edge by telling them how bad the food will be, and what a mess the house is, and how sorry we are for the kids’ behavior. We get worked up and crazy busy in all the wrong ways because we are more concerned about looking good than with doing good. So instead of our encouraging those we host, they feel compelled to reassure us, constantly telling us that everything is just fine. Opening our homes takes time, but it doesn’t have to take over our lives. Christian hospitality has much more to do with good relationships than with good food. There is a fine line between care and cumber. In many instances, less ado would serve better.” – Kevin DeYoung.
Most of Jesus’ ministry happened around a table. Meals weren’t just background moments— they were the scene of God’s grace breaking into everyday life. When Jesus shared food with others, He wasn’t simply satisfying hunger. He was communicating a sense of belonging, acceptance, and relationship.
Throughout Scripture, the table is a sacred place. Psalm 23 says God prepares a table before us—even in the presence of our enemies. Jesus feeds thousands with a few loaves and fish. After He rises from the dead, one of the first things He does is cook breakfast for His disciples on the beach. And in Revelation, the culmination of God’s story is described not as a lecture or a ceremony—but as a wedding feast.
Why is the table so important? Because food is common ground. Everyone needs to eat. Everyone understands hunger. It reminds us of our shared humanity and our dependence on a God who provides daily bread. When we invite a neighbor to eat or drink with us, we are inviting them into something deeper—life together. Stories are shared, burdens are lightened, barriers are lowered. A sandwich shared with someone lonely becomes communion. A cup of coffee with someone different from us becomes a moment of reconciliation.
In a world where most communication happens through screens, the table invites us back to presence. We listen. We look each other in the eyes. We become neighbors again, not just people occupying nearby houses. Eating together pushes back against the isolation that quietly starves the soul. It says, “You matter enough for me to pause. You are worth my time.”
Jesus modeled this repeatedly. He ate with tax collectors and sinners—people that others avoided. His critics accused Him of being “a glutton and a drunkard” because He spent so much time at meals with unlikely friends. But for Jesus, the table wasn’t a performance. It was a mission. Every shared meal whispers the message: God wants you in His family.
Discussion questions:
- Where have you personally experienced or received great hospitality, and what made it memorable?
- What are the internal or external barriers that make it difficult for you or your community to practice radical hospitality?