The other day, I was stung by a bee while doing dishes ... inside. Honestly, after my first yelp of surprise, my predominant feeling was empathy. The poor bee had accidentally flown into our home looking for pollen-heavy blossoms. Instead, he met my daughter who was immediately focused on his destruction. However, her intention was more vehement than her fly-swatting skills, and he ended up half dead in the kitchen trash. What had happened? His world was suddenly tossed upside down, and he was bludgeoned by unknown forces. The poor bee dragged his mangled dignity out of the sticky eggshells and crumpled marker drawings and stung the first tangible threat he sensed – me.
As the COVID-19 virus has swept through our nation, it’s easy to feel hurt, defensive, trapped and scared. Like the bee, I, ashamedly, have been too quick to sting the first person I see with impatient words, overly sensitive reactions and demands for a level of personal space to process it all that is just impractical in a family of seven. When our circumstances change suddenly, our unconquered fears and sinful tendencies are thrown into sharp relief.
1 John 4:18 says, “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.” As odd as it may sound, the virtue of hospitality is a particular form of charity that we can use to counteract the anxiety, resentment and claustrophobia that many of us are feeling during quarantine.
First, we are called to extend hospitality towards Christ. We are used to Him welcoming us into His churches. While churches remain shut, the sorrow of separation from the physical Presence of Christ saddens our hearts and deepens our longing for our Eucharistic Lord. In our family, our blessing before meals requests, “Come Lord Jesus, be our guest. Let Thy gifts to us be blessed. Amen.”
What does it really mean to invite Christ to be a guest at our table? I know He would see the messy parts of our lives. I know he would hear the kids bicker and see me struggle to weave order, education and beauty into our days. But, when our distractions and busyness outside the home are stripped away, we can see how much we need His presence in our home.
Every time we pray, He is welcome and present. Meals begin with a prayer of gratitude. A quick Morning Offering after breakfast helps us start our day intentionally in league with God. Our pastor recently encouraged the practice of the Angelus at 6 and 12 o’clock. And others have prompted us to use the Chaplet of Divine Mercy at 3 p.m. (or 3 a.m.) to accompany those who are dying in pain and alone around the world right now. My daughters rarely settle down peacefully for the night unless I sit in their room and pray a rosary with them first. There are no spiritual gold stickers earned for practicing every single devotion; the point is to use these tools and spontaneous prayer throughout your day to invite God into the present moment.
Christ can bring light into isolation and hope into our fear of an uncertain future. At Pentecost the Spirit of God rushed into the locked room full of scared apostles and filled their hearts with courage, with peace that passes understanding and with a desire to serve. God offers that same Spirit to each of us in our homes today.
The second way to practice hospitality during quarantine is towards the people in our homes with us. While hospitality is a virtue of charity generally extended toward guests and strangers, in a sense, our own families are often strange to us, especially if we lead busy, transient lives. When we are all cooped up together, the little courtesies we would easily extend to a house guest can soften the emotional burden that our family members are suffering under right now. We each have different ways of expressing that extra care – a special meal, a long conversation on the couch after dinner, a shared game or joke, or maybe taking the time to say “yes” to an activity that usually elicits a quick “not right now.” A good host receives and cares for hearts as well as bodies.
That blessing returns upon the giver because when we seek to make the ordinary extraordinary, it pulls us out of ourselves and our well-worn mental tracks of worry.
In a way, both of these forms of hospitality to Christ and to our family are the same. When we make our home a haven for the people who live there, we are also serving Christ in them. This is the heart of an integrated home – worshiping God in Himself and through love of each other.
It is not easy to give when you feel that much has been taken from you. A new book, “The Theology of Home,” points out, “Hospitality ... is the struggle and opportunity to reorient our internal axis outside of ourselves.” Time in silent prayer and conversation with a grounded friend can help us move past the shock and frustration of a suddenly changed life. But, as you emerge from those initial reactions, resolve to make this a time of connection and deepening within your family relationships. Foster your unique family culture, eat together, pray together, laugh together, solve problems together, suffer together.
Christ will be there as your house guest and will help make burdens light despite the uncertainty that surrounds us.
Kelly Henson is a Catholic writer and speaker who explores the art of integrating faith into daily life. She and her family are parishioners of Our Lady of Grace Parish in Greensboro. She blogs at www.kellyjhenson.com.