Through hospitality, we heal

Serving goat curry at Monday Night

One evening, a middle-aged man staggered into our Monday Night Meal, ready to sober up with a chicken curry. 

As he leaned on his friend, struggling to sit down, a team member said quietly, ‘It’s like what C.S. Lewis said, “There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal.”’

The practice of hospitality is deeper than polite table manners and polished cutlery. It’s how we respond to immortals among us. 

Many in ACT’s Monday Night community know what it’s like to have their dignity taken away. Hospitality is a practice that restores it. 

It’s an action that dismantles the lies that trauma tells – that we’re unlovable or there’s no hope. 

Those lies fade as familiar faces welcome us in, remember our names, and exchange inside jokes.

Lies of hopelessness are overwritten as those who’ve experienced homelessness themselves cook and serve the dinner. 

Through hospitality, we heal.  

Paul writes in Hebrews 13:2, ‘Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it.’

Once, a volunteer was cycling during the week and got lost. She prayed for someone to help. Then, a Monday Night guest appeared and showed her the way. 

At one Monday Night, a volunteer prayed for God to give guests a new song. Later that evening, ACT team member Emily sat with a guest to help her calm down after a difficult incident. An Easter choir was rehearsing songs inside the Parish Centre. Emily and the woman sang along. 

Then, the woman created her own lyrics to the melody: ‘Jesus will get me through this.’ 

Franciscan scholar Robert Karris said Jesus was always ‘going to a meal, at a meal, or coming from a meal.’

At Monday Nights, we set the table. 

Our kitchen team prepares a rich menu, from chilli con carne to Lancashire hotpot.

Volunteers make hot chocolates topped with colorful marshmallows. 

But Jesus always hosts the meal. 

Because of this, one guest said, ‘I’ve never felt like I’m part of a group or that I belong anywhere. But I feel like I belong here.’

One woman expressed how the joy and kindness at Monday Nights is unlike anything she’s experienced before; our team shared about the Holy Spirit and how those are his fruits. 

One guest said to a group of others just outside, on the street, ‘Pick up your rubbish, this is holy ground.’

Jesus is a generous host. After miraculously feeding 5,000, there were leftovers. He turned water into wine. He prepared breakfast as his disciples were out fishing. 

This generous hospitality is contagious. Especially when you’ve spent years unable to let your guard down and let people in, the chance to extend tables is a healing thing.

There’s a guest who regularly brings dog food to share with pet owners who come. Another  who brought in homemade banana bread to share. And a woman who said, ‘I’ve got two coats so you can have one of mine,’ to a fellow guest anxious about the upcoming winter.  

Matthew 25:35 says, ‘I was a stranger and you invited me in.’ Hospitality is the practice of meeting Jesus at the table. 

Whether or not we stagger as we sit down, there’s a seat for us. 

Jesus doesn’t look over our shoulders to see if there’s someone more impressive to talk to. 

He tucks his napkin into his collar and scoops the chicken curry with naan bread. 

Feasting with immortals.