Making Room at the Table

By Michael Scheele and Christine Temko- Scheele

Christian hospitality doesn’t begin with a spotless house, an elaborate meal, or a perfectly planned evening.

It begins when we notice someone else and decide that making room for them matters more than preserving our own comfort.

That sounds simple, but simple doesn’t always mean easy.

Most people like comfort and structure. Even when life already feels chaotic and out of control, we become accustomed to our own version of that chaos. The thought of adding one more responsibility, one more person, or one more interruption can feel overwhelming.

We tell ourselves we’ll invite someone over when the house is cleaner, the schedule is calmer, the children are better behaved, or we have enough money to prepare something impressive.

Sometimes we simply don’t know what to say.

Hospitality can feel awkward when we haven’t practiced it. But nearly every new thing feels awkward at first. The first invitation is usually the hardest. Once the conversation begins and people settle in, it can become as natural as pie.

We Were Never Promised a Life of Comfort

Comfort isn’t inherently wrong. Rest, peace, order, and privacy all have legitimate places in a healthy life.

The problem begins when protecting our comfort keeps us from following Christ.

Luke 9:23 says:

“And he said to them all, If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me.”

Jesus didn’t present self-denial as an occasional act reserved for unusually spiritual Christians. He described it as part of following Him daily.

Matthew 8:20 says:

“And Jesus saith unto him, The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests; but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head.”

Christ didn’t live an earthly life built around His own comfort. He made Himself available to people. He accepted interruptions. He sat with those whom others avoided. He noticed individuals who were overlooked by the crowd.

Christian hospitality asks us to do something similar.

That doesn’t mean exhausting ourselves, ignoring healthy boundaries, or opening our homes in situations that feel unsafe. It means recognizing that inconvenience alone isn’t always a good reason to say no.

Sometimes following Jesus looks like setting another plate on the table.

Sometimes it looks like leaving the house for a cup of coffee.

Hospitality Isn’t the Same as Entertaining

Whenever guests are with us, we want our actions to reflect Christian hospitality.

That means the focus should be on the guest, not on our performance as hosts.

Entertaining can quietly become an attempt to impress. We worry about whether the house looks right, whether the food is impressive enough, or whether every moment has been properly planned.

Christian hospitality asks different questions:

Does this person feel welcome?

Does this person feel valued?

Does this person feel safe?

Does this person know we’re glad they came?

The goal is comfort, but not necessarily the host’s comfort. We’re trying to create an environment in which another person can relax, speak honestly, and know that their presence isn’t an inconvenience.

A little mess can help.

Evidence of everyday living may reassure someone that they weren’t invited into a performance. They were invited into real life. A few dishes in the sink, a stack of mail, or toys in the corner may make it easier for a guest to believe that they don’t have to perform either.

Hospitality isn’t measured by the menu or the furniture.

It’s measured by the care given to the person.

Notice the Days That Hurt

Widows, widowers, and those who are separated or divorced may be some of the most obvious people who could benefit from an invitation. They’re obvious for good reason.

Holidays can be particularly difficult.

Christmas may surround a grieving person with visible reminders of joy. They see the joy other people are experiencing, remember the joy they once shared with someone, and feel the painful absence of that joy in their own lives.

Those emotions can collide all at once.

Birthdays, anniversaries, and the anniversary of a loved one’s death can also be difficult. The rest of the world may see an ordinary date on the calendar while someone else is carrying memories that make the day almost unbearable.

We shouldn’t assume that every person wants company on those days, but we can let them know they haven’t been forgotten.

A simple message can say:

“I know this may be a difficult day. We’re thinking about you. Would you like some company or would you rather have some quiet time? Either answer is completely fine.”

That gives the person a choice without leaving them to wonder whether anyone remembered.

At the same time, nobody is exempt from loneliness.

A married person can be lonely. A parent surrounded by children can be lonely. A teenager can be lonely in a crowded school. A new family at church can smile through an entire service and still leave without feeling known.

We have to look beyond the most obvious circumstances and begin noticing people.

Why an Invitation May Be Rejected

Someone can be deeply lonely and still turn down an invitation.

They may accept at first and cancel later. They may offer an excuse. They may convince themselves that the invitation was given out of pity or obligation. They may worry that they won’t know what to say or that they’ll feel even more alone while watching someone else’s family interact.

Research on loneliness suggests that it can make people more alert to possible social rejection and threat. That means the person who most needs connection may also have the hardest time trusting it.

Don’t take the first refusal personally.

Don’t pressure or shame the person. Don’t say, “You always cancel,” or make them responsible for your disappointment.

Continue being friendly. Continue making smaller invitations. Show through consistency that your interest is genuine.

The answer may be to begin with something less formal than dinner.

“What are you doing right now? Let’s go grab some coffee.”

That invitation feels different.

It doesn’t require the person to prepare emotionally for an entire evening. They don’t have to enter someone else’s home, worry about overstaying, or wonder whether they’re being treated as a charity case. Coffee has a natural beginning and ending. It’s familiar, public, and easy to accept.

Small invitations can build the trust that eventually makes larger ones feel natural.

Start Smaller Than You Think

Hospitality doesn’t always require opening your home or preparing a full meal.

In many situations, smaller acts will be more successful because they feel natural and aren’t intimidating.

Invite someone for coffee.

Ask whether they would like to take a walk.

Sit together after church for a few extra minutes.

Bring an extra sandwich and share lunch.

Invite someone to join you while running an ordinary errand.

Ask a newcomer to sit with you during a church activity.

Call someone on a difficult anniversary.

Drop off dessert and stay for a short conversation if they welcome the company.

Hospitality is less about the size of the invitation than the sincerity behind it.

Romans 12:13 instructs Christians to be:

“Distributing to the necessity of saints; given to hospitality.”

Being “given to hospitality” suggests more than waiting for the perfect opportunity. It describes an ongoing willingness to receive, serve, and make room for others.

We don’t have to do everything.

We can do something.

Sit Down and Listen

One particularly meaningful practice is sharing a meal with someone experiencing homelessness.

This should be approached with wisdom and appropriate attention to safety. Consider inviting someone of the same gender, meeting in a public restaurant, and letting another trusted person know where you are. If you’re uncomfortable going alone, invite a mature Christian friend to join you.

Buy lunch for yourself and for the other person.

Then sit down together.

Don’t remain standing while handing over food as if completing a transaction. Don’t treat the person as a ministry assignment, an object lesson, or a story to post online.

Ask about their life.

Listen without rushing to judge, correct, or explain how they arrived in their circumstances. Let them be a person before expecting them to become an audience.

If the conversation allows, share God’s Word with love. Ask whether you may pray with them. Before leaving, consider offering a practical gift, such as a restaurant or grocery-store gift card.

You may believe that you’re the person doing the giving.

You may leave realizing that God used the conversation to give something to you as well.

It’s an experience you’re unlikely to forget, and it may become something you choose to do again.

Pure Religion Notices People

James 1:27 says:

“Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world.”

James doesn’t describe pure religion as something confined to words, services, or appearances. It enters another person’s affliction.

To visit someone requires presence.

It requires noticing that a person may be alone, making the invitation, following through, and giving them our attention once we’re together.

Christian hospitality doesn’t have to be elaborate. It does have to be sincere.

We may feel uncomfortable at first. Our schedules may already feel crowded. The house may not be clean. The meal may be simple. The person may decline our first invitation.

Invite them again another time.

Begin with coffee.

Make a phone call.

Share a sandwich.

Pull out an extra chair.

The first step may be the hardest, but someone who has been eating alone may remember it for the rest of their life.