One New Year’s Eve, I received a call around midnight from a group of seminarians three states away. The unexpected nature of their call immediately led me to fear an emergency. When I heard joy and laughter upon answering the phone, my fear subsided and I soon learned the real the reason for their call: they were phoning in a favor. One of the seminarians had a college-age sister who wanted to attend the SEEK Conference in St. Louis that coming weekend. Her brother and the seminarians were willing to drive her to St. Louis the next day, but they needed to find a place for her to stay.

The young lady found a home on my couch the following night. Her seminarian brother – and his seminarian brothers – returned early in the morning to bring her to the conference. When they arrived at 7:00 a.m. to pick her up, I just finished making her a hearty breakfast, using the last of the ingredients I had in my refrigerator.

As I poured coffee for the men around my kitchen table, I noticed that some were eyeing the little sister’s eggs with interest. I knew full well that I didn’t have enough groceries to make them the same meal I prepared for her. And yet, I couldn’t help myself! The words slipped off my tongue, “Would you like some breakfast?”

In no time, I was raiding my pantry and asking the Lord to work another miracle of the loaves and fishes. He answered in the form of frozen waffles which I proceeded to overcook in an overheated oven. The men drowned the waffles in butter and syrup, devouring the entire stack while sitting at my table and bringing life-filled conversation and joy to the morning. To me, the waffles were a sad excuse for serving guests in my home. But to the men around my table, the waffles on their plate gave them a place of home at my table.

It did my heart good to see them off that morning to experience time with the Lord and each other – powered by frozen, overcooked waffles. Since that day, my home has seen guests that include seminarians’ sisters and even their mothers. It’s not something I ever offered to my seminarian friends outright. Yet, they have the freedom to ask, and their families have in some ways, become like my own.

That particular experience taught me a lot about hospitality – and it’s not about the art of entertainment, decluttering, hacks for hostessing, or stocking up on food in the pantry. Instead, I learned about the importance of having a place at the table and what it means to be a guest.

In fact, I’ve learned a lot about hospitality over the years by being a guest in the homes of others. Here are a few things I’ve noticed about being a guest:

• It’s not about the food, it’s about the company!
• Washing dishes can lead to the most memorable conversations and singing parties.
• There are always more laughs and more memories around making the meal together than eating it.
• Your uncleaned bathroom makes me feel at home. It’s just like mine!
• I don’t care if the table is cluttered or sticky. I’ve often sat at tables where I could only claim a small corner so that everyone could fit around the table together. Those are the best places to belong.

The feminine heart was made with a capacity to receive. And the man’s heart was made in such a way as to desire to provide for others. Individually and united, men and women have a great power of hospitality that surpasses all forms of cultural entertainment, Instagram influencer accounts, and Martha Stewart magazines. Simply put: we were made for communion. Life lived with others is a life lived with Christ.

It’s not easy to overcome fear surrounding hospitality. Perhaps past experiences or cultural pressures have burdened our viewpoint of what it looks like to make room for another at our table. Today, I’d like to propose a few ideas and thoughts for consideration on this subject.

A Place at the Table of Your Home: Did you know? You can host others and enjoy the party! Often, I hear women speak of why they don’t host others in their home. They speak of messy houses, an unplanned menu, and a busy schedule. The secret to it all is this: it’s not about what you make or how you make it. (If that’s the case, find new guests!) Focus on the place you make for another at your table and let everything else be secondary. That very place you prepare for another is the most cherished part of the home. It says to its guest, “You are safe, you are loved, and you are wanted here. Come and rest awhile.”

A Place at the Table of Your Heart: Our home is the extension of our heart. We do not need to have to physically host others to show them they are known and loved. We can be a “home” for others and with others in our daily encounters – at work, with our children, at the grocery store, and best of all, with a community of friends and loved ones who offer life-giving relationships. Find your people and share life with your people – listening, loving, and fostering opportunities to receive and cherish others in your heart. You don’t even have to be with someone to make this kind of welcome. Your thoughts and prayers for them throughout the day is one way of listening to them with God.

A Place at the Table of Your Community: It doesn’t take much to notice a need for community in the world around us. A global pandemic continues to have an effect on social norms and fears. We’ve learned to live and do things alone. While independence has it’s value, it’s not an end-all! Chances are there is a widow, a single person, or a struggling parent who is longing for some kind eye to fall on his or her day. Practicing awareness to others and reaching out to them during our day has the potential of changing someone else’s for the better. What might seem like something so small as throwing salt on a neighbor’s icy sidewalk, smiling to a grocery store clerk, or entertaining small talk with an elderly woman in a waiting room actually cultivates a sense of belonging – both to the receiver and to you, the one who welcomes others to your table.

We were made for communion! I hope you’ll take some courage from these words and consider how you might make room for someone at your table, in your heart, or in your community this week. Know that just a you are worthy of “hosting” so are you worthy of being received and given your very own place at His table at Mass. I’ll find you there, in the Eucharist, where we share the greatest Feast of all.

Peace, Mary