Hospitality

One of the joys of my current situation is to find myself on the receiving end of hospitality of various kinds. I am thankful to God for the kindly Christian family on the island of Guernsey who graciously let me stay with them for a week at a time. Being in their company and roaming free round the island recently has given me one of my most relaxing and enjoyable holidays ever. Then there are the guest house owners who make hospitality their livelihood, and consciously maintain professional standards while still seeking to offer a family atmosphere.

The people I am lodging with take hospitality to a new level, the relatively long-term. That is a gift of a special order: they have kindly made me part of their household, a privileged if at times delicate position. In all these situations I study to be an appreciative and co-operative guest. It is a great pleasure when a host comments, "You're no trouble to look after!"

Hospitality is great to receive and a joy to give too. Whoever is hospitable is following a scripture command: "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares" (Hebrews 13:2, ESV). A wealthy woman once provided food for the prophet Elisha and then persuaded her husband to supply something more substantial, a furnished room with "a bed, a table, a chair and a lamp" (2 Kings 4:10).

The guest we should seek most to welcome is the Lord Jesus Christ, who knocks on the door of the human heart asking to come in. "Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me" (Revelation 3:20). Are your heart and mine available, clean and kitted out with proper furniture to welcome the Master?

An old hymn, "On Jordan's bank the Baptist's cry", has a verse which goes:
Then cleansed be every breast from sin;
make straight the way for God within;
prepare we in our hearts a home
where such a mighty Guest may come.

Autumn

Let it never be said that I am so absorbed in the hunt for a pastorate that I have no time to stand and stare. This autumn has, for whatever reason, clothed our trees in particularly brilliant colours. I've been enjoying it hugely. Last week I spent a few days in Llandudno, North Wales, and made a beeline for my favourite spot in that area, Bodnant Gardens. The sights that greeted me there were breathtaking: the intense red of the leaves of the acer trees; the bright yellow of some of the other foliage; the hydrangea flowers which had not yet turned pale and whose intense blue contrasted pleasingly with these other colours.

Some folk tell me they don't like autumn because it reminds them of the end of life. The old leaves surviving from the summer become brittle, ready to fall from the trees once a stiff wind blows. How like human frailty, the downhearted ones imagine! Yet I am encouraged and moved when I meet people in the twilight of life who seem constantly rejuvenated and refreshed in spirit. Something in us may die, yet we live:

"... genuine, yet regarded as impostors; known, yet regarded as unknown; dying, and yet we live on; beaten, and yet not killed; sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; poor, yet making many rich; having nothing, and yet possessing everything" (2 Corinthians 6:8-10, NIV).

No doubt in days of economic hardship many my age are contemplating a premature end to their working lives. Old landmarks and life patterns are being swept away. At times the alarm and anxiety this generates affects even me. Yet the one who accepts Jesus as Saviour knows mercies which are new every morning. I am glad God has given me many opportunities to preach and share in this waiting time. I can use them to share the truth that He allows His children to blossom where they might have been expected to fade. Autumn colour is not deceptive; it really is a time for hope.