I’ve always felt the need to be the host, not because it comes naturally, but because I thought it was my role as a good Christian. As I sat and wrestled with the reason behind that felt obligation, I heard one of my fellow cohort members, a person of color, speak up and say that he is “always forced to be a guest.” Those words brought a rush of recognition. It is my privilege that has taught me to be the host. Though hospitality has always been packaged as a generous act, in that moment I realized how it can be used to maintain a sense of power.

At the intersection of my Western, White, and Evangelical identities, I inherited a worldview in which I saw myself as the one with something to offer. Underneath the pretense of generosity was a belief that I had more resources, more knowledge, more faith, and more wisdom than others. Why, I was even in possession of the way, the truth, and the life. It was my duty to share it all with those less fortunate – or perhaps less blessed – than myself.

But this mindset doesn’t actually honor the recipient. It reserves the honor and the comfort for the host. It allows me to see myself as the altruistic hero and the benevolent savior while perceiving the other as destitute and downtrodden. It reinforces the hierarchy of power and upholds the supremacy of my perspectives and my culture. It is this mindset that has led Christians to become the chaplains of world domination, in the words of Rabbi David Jaffe.

Though it may seem drastic to draw the line from being the perpetual host to world domination, the threads of pride and power hold it all together. But Jesus showed us a different way. Reverend Rene August describes the way of Jesus as one of self-sacrifice rather than self-preservation. Jesus was not one to hold onto power, even though it that was rightfully his. Instead, he modeled humility for us in taking on flesh, in becoming the servant rather than the host, and in considering the interests of others above his own.

Canon Sarah Snyder reminded us that Jesus was always the guest. He entered into our world, sat at the tables of both Pharisees and tax collectors, received financial support from women, and relied on the kindness of strangers as he traveled around. In doing so, Jesus honored those who hosted him. He upheld their dignity as he drew out their hospitality. When others had disregarded the people on the margins of society, Jesus affirmed that they were worthy and that they had something to offer.

Through the years, I’ve spent a lot of time interrogating my own motivations and deconstructing my long-held beliefs, but I recognize that it’s hard to fully release my savior complex. It’s hard to let go of the notion that others need me while I remain self-sufficient. It’s hard to hold back when I think my education and my experience produce the wisdom that is needed. It’s hard to draw out the leadership and insight of others when it would require less time for me to just take charge. Even as I seek to love my neighbor by offering what I have, I acknowledge the ways that I maintain the status quo by holding onto power.

Now I’m left contemplating these questions…What does it look like for me to draw out the hospitality of others? How can I humble myself to recognize that others have something to offer me, something to teach me? How do I embrace my own discomfort and inconvenience in order to affirm the dignity of those who have been disempowered? How do I embody a life of hospitality that reflects Jesus’ example?

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