According to an old Jewish legend, Abraham was seated outside this tent one day when an old man walked slowly into view. Wrinkled and bent, with sand coloured, weather beaten skin, eyes screwed up tight against the sun, and ancient cloak worn soft as a second skin, he looked almost as old as the desert itself.
Abraham kept up, welcomed the man, and, as was the custom, offered him rest and refreshment.
The old man was happy to accept Abrahams offer, and took a seat in the shade to drink some cool water. When the meal was ready, Abraham had his servants offer a portion to the traveller. But Abraham noticed that the man did not take part in The blessing of the meal, and asked him why not.
" I worship the fire gods," replied the man. "I have served them all my life, and could not disrespect them by praying to any other god."
This made Abraham angry, and he sent the man away.
In the cool of the evening, as the sun set, God spoke to Abraham about his visitor, and asked why Abraham had sent him away.
"He refused to bow down to you, Lord," Abraham explained.
"Oh, Abraham," the Lord spoke sadly. "I have been looking after that man for nearly one hundred years. Could you not have looked after him for just one day?"
Monday, 28 May 2012
Thoughts on hospitality
Hospitality is not...
...providing the perfect meal in the perfect home by the perfect hostess. Unless of course, you happen to be appearing on an episode of Come Dine With Me. In real life, people don't hold up score cards in the taxi on the way home.
...a luxury that comes when you hit high roller status. Some friends of mine recently moved into a beautiful new house with a fantastic conservatory, beautiful garden and multiple bathrooms. Spending time there is a pleasure. But no more of a pleasure than it was in their two-up, two-down, farm labourers cottage. The warmth of the welcome comes from who they are, not where they live or how much they spend on the food that they serve.
...a function of gender or personality.
...optional
Hospitality is... The ability to welcome and graciously serve guests and strangers.
Our English word "hospitality" shares the same meaning as the words hospital or hospice. This reminds us that hospitality has to do with care giving and healing.
In New Testament Greek, the word for hospitality is philoxenia. This combines two words 'phileo' which means love, and 'xenos' which means stranger. So literally, 'love of stranger'. A stranger isn't just someone you don't yet know. In a sense, strangers are those who are disconnected from basic relationships. Hospitality is about turning our lives towards those who are isolated, listening well to those who rarely have a voice.
It's really about inclusion. It is about including others into our lives and our network of relationships.
...providing the perfect meal in the perfect home by the perfect hostess. Unless of course, you happen to be appearing on an episode of Come Dine With Me. In real life, people don't hold up score cards in the taxi on the way home.
...a luxury that comes when you hit high roller status. Some friends of mine recently moved into a beautiful new house with a fantastic conservatory, beautiful garden and multiple bathrooms. Spending time there is a pleasure. But no more of a pleasure than it was in their two-up, two-down, farm labourers cottage. The warmth of the welcome comes from who they are, not where they live or how much they spend on the food that they serve.
...a function of gender or personality.
...optional
Hospitality is... The ability to welcome and graciously serve guests and strangers.
Our English word "hospitality" shares the same meaning as the words hospital or hospice. This reminds us that hospitality has to do with care giving and healing.
In New Testament Greek, the word for hospitality is philoxenia. This combines two words 'phileo' which means love, and 'xenos' which means stranger. So literally, 'love of stranger'. A stranger isn't just someone you don't yet know. In a sense, strangers are those who are disconnected from basic relationships. Hospitality is about turning our lives towards those who are isolated, listening well to those who rarely have a voice.
It's really about inclusion. It is about including others into our lives and our network of relationships.
Monday, 7 May 2012
Books, Kindles and a Mermaid's Egg.
This week we have undertaken what, for us, is some pretty major DIY, and we have been shifting furniture all around the house to accommodate it. For the last couple of days we have had to eat all of our meals in bed, as there was nowhere else to sit! However, the end is in sight, and today I spent several happy hours organising my books. Prior to the start of the DIY frenzy I had culled our books pretty ruthlessly. Books that my daughter had grown out of, books that I had enjoyed but wouldn't read again, and books which frankly I had never liked that much in the first place were all boxed up and dispatched to charity shops. (In the spirit of complete honesty, I must confess that a number have been travelling around on the back seat of my car for quite some time, but I will get round to taking them this week.)
Many of the remaining books were piled up on our dining table for a few days. My mate Dave took one look at them and called it the best advert for a Kindle he had ever seen, and I suppose he has a point.
When Kindles first appeared I thought they sounded awful. I am something of a technophobe at the best of times, and I LOVE LOVE LOVE books. But, having held a few, and read from them, I have softened my attitude towards them. In fact, in a nice red leather cover, I can almost be convinced that a Kindle is a thing of beauty. I don't own one myself, although I do have the Kindle app on my iPad. I've downloaded quite a few free books from the Kindle store, and they have come in really handy to pass the time during unexpected delays, long bus journey etc. I can totally understand how being able to store thousands of books on a Kindle could be useful. For one thing, I wouldn't have to dust them all, before returning them to their shelves. I wouldn't have to pile them up in inconvenient places round the house while shifting furniture. I wouldn't have to pack them up and cart them off to charity shops when I have finished with them.
But on the other hand...I like the thought that someone else is going to read books that I have enjoyed, and I like the fact that a charity will benefit from them. I love that I can lend my books to my friends. I love that I can give my books to my friends! And the truth is, I have enjoyed every minute of sorting through my books. I've enjoyed handling them, and remembering other times when I handled them last. I'm rubbish at taking pictures, and rarely have any photographic records of holidays or special times, but I can pick up a book and remember that the first time I read it I was camping in the New Forest, and what I thought was my husband stroking my neck turned out to be a cheeky pony saying hello. I can pick up a book and remember that it was recommended to me by a friend when we were on a canal bot in Wales, on the day that Jesse fished a mermaid egg out of the canal, and Lily caught a green pepper as it floated by. I love flicking through my books as I dust them. Considering the state they were in, I should probably do it more often. I like finding odd items that I have used as bookmarks, like old Christmas cards. And even actual bookmarks can be a joy. I have a beautiful one that someone brought me back from Egypt. One day, before I die, I WILL see the pyramids for myself!
Now, my librarian friends might want to stop reading at this point, because I must confess that I write in my books all the time. I often write when and where I bought them, along with my name, somewhere near the front. I found a couple bought in Spain, during one particularly dismal and rainy holiday. I had completely underestimated how much I would read while watching the rain pour down incessantly, and you cannot imagine how delighted I was to find a tiny second hand bookshop that stocked English language books. I also underline the bits I particularly like. I'll write comments too. Sometimes, I even write down phone messages, or phone numbers into my books, and I refuse to feel guilty about it! They are my books, I can write what I like in them! And I love to go back, sometimes years later, and see what once mattered to me, what once moved me, once entertained or angered me. It is as close to looking at old diary entries as I shall ever come.
If there is one thing better than looking at my own comments in a book, it is finding a second hand copy in which some stranger has commented. I love it when you find evidence of what is almost a relationship between an unknown reader and the book which is now yours.
The other thing, of course, that a Kindle cannot offer, is the pleasure of physically wandering around a book shop, picking up books here and there, reading a page or two, having your eye caught by some author you've never heard of. The excitment, in a charity shop, of finding the book you were after for less than a pound! Perhaps people who are more accustomed than I am to shopping on line will be much more comfortable, and confident, browsing the Kindle store, but personally I find it quite overwhelming.
So will I get a Kindle one day? Well, quite possibly. I don't want one enough to save up my hard earned cash to pay for one, but if someone offered me one, I wouldn't turn it down. I can well imagine using a Kindle, but I cannot imagine it ever taking the place of my real, live, actual books!
Many of the remaining books were piled up on our dining table for a few days. My mate Dave took one look at them and called it the best advert for a Kindle he had ever seen, and I suppose he has a point.
When Kindles first appeared I thought they sounded awful. I am something of a technophobe at the best of times, and I LOVE LOVE LOVE books. But, having held a few, and read from them, I have softened my attitude towards them. In fact, in a nice red leather cover, I can almost be convinced that a Kindle is a thing of beauty. I don't own one myself, although I do have the Kindle app on my iPad. I've downloaded quite a few free books from the Kindle store, and they have come in really handy to pass the time during unexpected delays, long bus journey etc. I can totally understand how being able to store thousands of books on a Kindle could be useful. For one thing, I wouldn't have to dust them all, before returning them to their shelves. I wouldn't have to pile them up in inconvenient places round the house while shifting furniture. I wouldn't have to pack them up and cart them off to charity shops when I have finished with them.
But on the other hand...I like the thought that someone else is going to read books that I have enjoyed, and I like the fact that a charity will benefit from them. I love that I can lend my books to my friends. I love that I can give my books to my friends! And the truth is, I have enjoyed every minute of sorting through my books. I've enjoyed handling them, and remembering other times when I handled them last. I'm rubbish at taking pictures, and rarely have any photographic records of holidays or special times, but I can pick up a book and remember that the first time I read it I was camping in the New Forest, and what I thought was my husband stroking my neck turned out to be a cheeky pony saying hello. I can pick up a book and remember that it was recommended to me by a friend when we were on a canal bot in Wales, on the day that Jesse fished a mermaid egg out of the canal, and Lily caught a green pepper as it floated by. I love flicking through my books as I dust them. Considering the state they were in, I should probably do it more often. I like finding odd items that I have used as bookmarks, like old Christmas cards. And even actual bookmarks can be a joy. I have a beautiful one that someone brought me back from Egypt. One day, before I die, I WILL see the pyramids for myself!
Now, my librarian friends might want to stop reading at this point, because I must confess that I write in my books all the time. I often write when and where I bought them, along with my name, somewhere near the front. I found a couple bought in Spain, during one particularly dismal and rainy holiday. I had completely underestimated how much I would read while watching the rain pour down incessantly, and you cannot imagine how delighted I was to find a tiny second hand bookshop that stocked English language books. I also underline the bits I particularly like. I'll write comments too. Sometimes, I even write down phone messages, or phone numbers into my books, and I refuse to feel guilty about it! They are my books, I can write what I like in them! And I love to go back, sometimes years later, and see what once mattered to me, what once moved me, once entertained or angered me. It is as close to looking at old diary entries as I shall ever come.
If there is one thing better than looking at my own comments in a book, it is finding a second hand copy in which some stranger has commented. I love it when you find evidence of what is almost a relationship between an unknown reader and the book which is now yours.
The other thing, of course, that a Kindle cannot offer, is the pleasure of physically wandering around a book shop, picking up books here and there, reading a page or two, having your eye caught by some author you've never heard of. The excitment, in a charity shop, of finding the book you were after for less than a pound! Perhaps people who are more accustomed than I am to shopping on line will be much more comfortable, and confident, browsing the Kindle store, but personally I find it quite overwhelming.
So will I get a Kindle one day? Well, quite possibly. I don't want one enough to save up my hard earned cash to pay for one, but if someone offered me one, I wouldn't turn it down. I can well imagine using a Kindle, but I cannot imagine it ever taking the place of my real, live, actual books!
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