Even If You're Not the Holy Family...

...your guests can still find Jesus in your home.

Here's an article I wrote for The Word Among Us:

“Here I stand, knocking at the door. If anyone hears me calling and opens the door, I will enter his house and have supper with him, and he with me” (Revelation 3:20).

To me, these words of Jesus describe a part of what we are all trying to do during this season of Advent. For us and our families, these weeks leading up to the glorious celebration of Christmas are a chance to reflect and prepare. Spiritually, we wait, anticipate, and open the door wider for the coming of the King.

But Advent also prepares us to throw open the door in a very practical, literal way—by showing hospitality to the relatives and friends we will welcome into our homes during Christmas. Holiday parties, visiting relatives, family get-togethers—the season is filled with opportunities to invite people in and treat them as we would treat Christ. We try to see Jesus in them; we pray they will see Jesus in us.

It’s sometimes hard to remember, however, that we can really be God’s gift to others. Our flaws and quirks at times make us wonder: Is anyone really going to see the light and love of Christ shining in our home? It’s not as if they’ve come to the house of Joseph and Mary!

This pressure eases when we give up unrealistic standards of perfection and aim instead for what makes hospitality truly Christian: A gift of self, offered for the love of Christ.

Pre-Visit Jitters.
Last summer, my husband and I invited a young family from our parish to have dinner with us. We enjoyed our brief visits with them as we left church on Sunday and decided it would be nice to really meet them, beyond the small talk of walking to the parking lot together each week.

It can be daunting, inviting someone to your home—especially when the only thing you know about them is based on a brief, weekly encounter after the early Mass. As soon as I hung up the phone, a wave of worry washed over me. What if she’s a professional decorator? What if he’s a master gardener? What if they’ve taken gourmet cooking classes in France and won’t appreciate the way we grill our steak?

In the days leading up to the dinner, I found myself doing useful, logical things like cleaning out the linen closets and alphabetizing the pantry! It reminds me of the time, several months ago, when our parish priest agreed to celebrate a Mass in our home for neighborhood families. A few hours before everyone was set to arrive, I found myself cleaning out my jewelry box.

“I don’t know why I’m doing this,” I said, hunched over a pile of mismatched earrings, “but I’m certain there’s a perfectly good explanation.”

Although it was wild at moments, the dinner with the family from church was wonderful. A few days later we received a beautiful card thanking us for a lovely evening that, to our guests, was filled with peace and spirituality. The Lord was present.

Not Waiting for Perfection.
My home isn’t perfect, by any stretch. I have small children, and by this I mean I have four young sons—boys with an incredible zest for life, who live up to all the assumptions you might have about a houseful of little boys. They love to jump, run, wrestle, tackle, and live life at full speed. Inviting someone into this environment is a big step.

“But if I wait till everything is perfect,” I told a friend, “well, it’ll be a long time before we can entertain.” At times like this, I always remember columnist Erma Bombeck and how she used to exhort her readers to take the risk and “invite already”—the silverware might NEVER all match!

A clean and beautiful home is a wonderful thing, to be sure. We like it that way, because our home is a reflection of who we are. And when we invite people over, we clean and tidy; we want our guests to feel comfortable.

Much more important than our home’s décor and spotlessness, however, is our willingness to share ourselves, to let Jesus in us reach out to the person we have invited in. We share who we really are—who God made us to be—by showing compassion, concern, and true love.

The Gift of Self.
In Advent especially, as we put our focus on God’s incredible gift of love to us in Jesus, we can think about the fact that welcoming others reflects his plan for us as humans.
That plan has to do with being open to one another.

This openness of life and communication is demonstrated most clearly in marriage. Think about our first parents in the garden of Eden. Before Eve bit into that forbidden fruit, neither she nor Adam felt any shame at their nakedness (Genesis 2:25). In his Theology of the Body, John Paul II referred to this nakedness as a state of mind and being. That is, before they sinned, Adam and Eve were unashamed, unafraid to be vulnerable. There were no barriers between them; their communication was deep and unfettered.

In a different way, this openness of communication is also God’s plan for our relationships with other people. He intends us to be gifts to one another. He invites us to move beyond the external trappings and share ourselves—our life in him, who we really are.

And so, when you extend hospitality during this blessed season, what is really important is the depth of your love for Christ – and your desire to show that love to your guests. It’s about being willing to share yourself and your family, warts and all, with someone else. Invite them into your home, share some food and some good conversation, and ask the Lord to be present with you. When the party is over, when all is said and done, what will matter most is that you did it—you invited those relatives, those friends, that family who didn’t have anywhere else to go. Most likely it wasn’t perfect, but you all had a wonderful time. Maybe the children were wild, maybe it was a tight squeeze in the dining room. But it was real and honest, and you tried to share yourselves.

Take the Plunge.
When my husband Paul and I were newlyweds, we loved to entertain. Our first Christmas, we had a progressive dinner with a group of friends—six other couples—and we hosted the main course. Back then, our tiny house barely fit us all, but we squeezed around the large dining room table—an inherited set, and our only furniture aside from one beat-up couch and an old leather recliner.

Simple as it was, that evening was a glorious celebration of Christ’s birth. It didn’t matter that our home lacked the latest trends in lamps and accessories. It was filled with excitement and joy and love. We sat around the table and toasted what God had done for us by sending us his only Son. I remember feeling inspired, being among a group of people willing to share themselves so openly and sincerely.

Through such experiences of hospitality, the event we celebrate at Christmas is made real to others. When we drop the barriers and share our selves for love of Christ, he comes into our midst.

So go ahead. Make that call. Invite some people over. God has blessed you with the Christmas gift of his Son. By showing hospitality, you can share that priceless gift with others.