Have you ever noticed how many of the gospel stories happen in the context of hospitality? Again and again, we see Jesus in the intimate space of an opened home, sitting around a shared table. It is here, time and again, that Jesus reveals himself, bringing his life and light into the lives of those gathered.
Take today’s reading: At the beginning, Zacchaeus is a social outcast—curious, but not contrite. By the end of the story, he has completely turned his back on corruption and is doing everything within his power to make reparation to those he has wronged. He begins as an outcast. He ends “a Son of Abraham.” What marvel could have occurred in the meantime?
One simple thing: Jesus insists on being his guest. Jesus said he must come to Zacchaeus’s home, must share a meal with him. Hospitality was a non-negotiable necessity on Jesus’ itinerary.
This is a great challenge today. We live in an efficiency-obsessed, digitally-saturated, intensely private age. An age in which it is a radical thing to choose the messy road of open homes and shared tables. But what do we miss if we give up on this gift?
If Jesus had just sent Zacchaeus a zoom invite, or a text message, would the result have been the same? Would Zacchaeus have been transformed in a less intimate, less human, context? I’m not sure he would have.
Research tells us that there are parts of the human brain—certain ways of feeling and understanding—that only come to life through attentive, caring, face-to-face contact. We were made for the kind of communion that thrives only as we share time and meals and life together.
It is our prayer that we would become a people who welcome one another—and those we think are outcasts—to our tables, trusting that, as we do so, Christ himself will meet us there.
Reflection by Laura on Luke 19:1-10.