Radical Hospitality

I have previously mentioned that I am working my way through The Rule of Benedict.  However, my good friend and cyber sistah, Maria, often talks about Benedictine radical hospitality.  Back in the way back, weary travelers could appeal to the brothers at a Benedictine abbey for shelter and they would be welcomed.

Although my brain can wrap itself around that level of hospitality, my contemporary brain ends up thinking of the brothers as an early Holiday Inn Express.  As an image wandering travelers knocking at a gate and being welcomed with food, drink, and shelter just doesn't translate well for me.

Now Victor Hugo gave me a much better example of radical hospitality that I still wrestle with wondering if I would be able to be that welcoming.  In Les Miserables, early on Jean Valjean has been released after something like 18 years in prison for stealing a loaf of bread to feed his starving family. 

In 19th century France, a convict was forced to carry yellow identifying papers that were presented for everything and to not do so was cause enough to be sent back to prison for violating one's parole.  Further, this was a time when towns closed their gates at night, unknown travelers were not trusted, and vagrancy was darn near criminal.  Odds were highly stacked against a prisoner sent back into the world.  Nothing like today (snort).

Jean Valjean knocks at the door of a kindly bishop who apparently lived modestly when one considers how bishops live today.  Jean Valjean is exhausted, hungry, and without hope.  He presents his papers expecting to be turned away, but the bishop invites him in as his guest.  The cook/housekeeper is suspicious and sets the table with wooden dishes.  The bishop corrects her and instructs her to lay out the silver for their guest.  She is, of course, appalled.

I'm tempted to side step a bit and tell you the story of the frog and the scorpion but I will give you the bare essentials.  After convincing the frog to carry him across the rising river to safety, the scorpion stings the frog.  The frog asks the scorpion why he did that - that they will both die.  The scorpion's response, "I couldn't help myself, I'm a scorpion."

Well, Jean Valjean, in a moment of weakness, sneaks from his bed and bags up the silver plates and utensils and leaves...

Not far down the road he is stopped and searched.  The combined possession of his yellow convict papers with a bag of silver aroused the officer's suspicion.  In a moment of desperation, Jean Valjean tells him that the bishop gave him the silver.  He is forced to return with the officer and is mortified to face the man who's kindness he rewarded with theft.

This is where the bishop's hospitality crosses over into the radical variety.  The bishop answers the door and in an instant understands the circumstances.  He chides Jean Valjean for forgetting to take the candlesticks as   well.  The officer is astonished, as is Jean Valjean.  The bishop reminds him that he had given him the silver so he could turn around his life.

THAT is radical hospitality and I don't know if I would be able to follow the bishop's example.

I have tried though.  Time and again I offered things to my former neighbor out of compassion, not expecting financial compensation.  Once I called him and asked him if he knew how to fix washers...he was a bit suspicious, "Yes.  Why?"  Well, I had bought a new washer and was going to give him my old one for one of his rental properties if he wanted it.  It was in need of minor repairs.

Recently I responded to a request for housing.  After living alone most of my adult life, I will be renting space to a graduate student and his dog.  I continue to learn much from Benedict and feel very optimistic about this arrangement.  Being able to share my home just seems right.

Peace.