Comments on: Radical Hospitality

By: Sunrise Sister

Sunrise Sister — Thu, 26 Jun 2008 17:11:30 +0000

Christine, I had downloaded this post and had it by my elbow for reading later – some posts are too “filled” for me to reach the depth and wonder of a quick reading. I took it to my bedside reading last night and although you might not ever get back to reading this response maybe your inner self will know that it moved me deeply. I found it inspirational, relative, practical, sad and happy – all at once. Thank you for sharing such an amazing post. The radical hospitality you’ve outlined is a rule to live by.

xoxoxo

By: Christine

Christine — Thu, 19 Jun 2008 02:22:19 +0000

Thank you Tess for sharing your moment of beautiful vulnerability.

Well said Rebecca.

By: Rebecca

Rebecca — Thu, 19 Jun 2008 01:50:58 +0000

Wonderful poem. “Being human” isn’t it a wonderful thing – and we take it so for granted, piece of cake anyone can do it, right. We so judge who we are at any moment, turning our ownselves away from the door. Kinder to strangers then we are often to ourselves. And if we all contain a spark, an internal presence, of the divine, what have we then done.

By: Tess

Tess — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 20:11:41 +0000

Ah, Christine, today you managed to make me cry. A little bit. Two drops. Our poor selves sometimes get short shrift when we look outwards to concentrate on others. I love the imagery of comfort and hospitality to our shadow side.
And I, too, love the connection between this poem I so love and the Benedictine spirituality that is so important to me.

By: Christine

Christine — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 16:39:14 +0000

Kel, I am indeed blessed. I also know plenty of folks who want to move me to consolation as quickly as possible. This ability to stay present with me is one of the qualities I find absolutely necessary for a close friend, for someone with whom I will allow myself to be deeply vulnerable.

Thanks kigen, I also love the way Rumi and Benedict come together in conversation here, something I would like to explore more in other ways too.

Thanks Laure, I consider poetry to be one of my sacred scriptures, having as much impact (and often more) as texts considered “canonical”. I love your awareness of the excitement rather than dread brewing in you!

You are most welcome Val.

Thanks Bette, when I saw the door in my photo files it felt like just the right image.

blisschick, yes I also love the image of meeting them at the door laughing. A piece I didn’t include here is that I try and keep my sense of humor about this work too, it’s not all serious. Sometimes I can even be in a playful relationship to despair. Thanks for the lovely quote, although I do not believe that God “sends us” despair, I think it rises up naturally out of the texture of our human lives, but I do believe that the divine presence allows us the strength to transform it into an awakening.

Thanks lucy, that is all you need to say.

By: lucy

lucy — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 16:04:45 +0000

christine, this post has spoken deeply to me this morning. i will leave it at that for now

xoxoxoxo

By: blisschick

blisschick — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 15:56:21 +0000

One of my favorite Rumi pieces, which I have written into so many cards and sent through the mail — hopefully, on wings! “…meet them at the door laughing…” is my favorite part. And I love your juxtaposition of Rumi with Benedictine spirituality. Excellent. I love, too, to point out to people how all mystics, across all traditions, are really saying the same things — which, I think, is reason enough to believe and hope and continue on our journeys. And today, I came across this and thought of you instantly: “God does not send us despair in order to kill us; he sends it in order to awaken us to new life.” – Hermann Hesse (I found it at http://www.worldprayers.org to which I may be a very late comer, but I so enjoy their prayer wheel. It’s hard to stop spinning it!)

By: Bette

Bette — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 14:50:17 +0000

You are right, Christine. I want to be able to be a good host to those who come to me — and to not jump right into cheerleading or fix-it mode, but to just Listen. I think that simply listening to others is all I need to give, and I have to always remind myself. I like this orange door — even the color and the handle remind me of Rumi

By: Val

Val — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 14:34:29 +0000

This is a post I will share with many. It really resonates with me.

Thank you for opening up your world and allowing us a glimpse of what can be.

By: Laure

Laure — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 14:15:36 +0000

“Over time, as I lived into the poem’s imagery, I began to discover a connection to the Benedictine concept of hospitality that plays a central role in my spiritual life and practice.”

What honor you give to Rumi and I suspect to other poets whose poems’ imagery you have “lived into!” Yes, poetry is living … breathing, and to join our own living to it and into it is a deep practice.

“… everyone who comes to the door of the monastery, and by extension the door to our lives—the poor, the traveler, the curious, those of a different religion, social class, or education — should be welcomed in, not just as an honored guest, but as a window onto the sacred presence. For Benedict, our encounter with the stranger, the unknown, the unexpected, the foreign elements that spark our fear, are precisely the places where we are most likely to encounter God.”

My consciousness was pricked by these words. I have not given much if any thought to how I ‘welcome’ life (be it in the form of experience, feelings, thoughts, nature/creation or people). To choose to receive guests as a window into the sacred presence is to choose to live and relate from a decidedly more intentional and reverential place. I sense myself moving in closer to a time when I will have a dynamic encounter with some of what I am fearful of. With the thought that what sparks fear in me is the place where I am most likely to encounter God, I am quickened to more excitement than dread.

“… treat each guest honorably as a guide much wiser than myself.” I find myself wondering how teachable I really am. How able I am to receive the guide and the teacher.

Thank you, Christine, for opening a door for me. The door itself is a beautiful one, as is the threshold of it. But what is on the other side … is breathtaking!