Hospitality

Our task today, was to do random acts of hospitality. A few days ago we had thrown the idea around about singing hymns in public. So, today we decided to sing hymns in four part harmonies at a hospital. As we looked through the Mennonite hymnal, I quickly realized how sparing my liturgical music education was. The only songs we ever sang at mass were “Here I am Lord”, and “Happy Birthday Jesus” screeched out by some whiny 9 year old, who’s deaf grand parents (lucky bastards) had lobbied for three months to get the front pew. Then we stumbled across “Come Thou Fount”, and “Be Thou my Vision”, some United Methodist standards and I felt OK. Later, I realized I wasn’t so much a singing Methodist as I am a smile-and-nod kinda Methodist... We tried the hospital down the road on Wilson first. Although they were very appreciative of our offer, we were supposed to go through the chaplain who was not in; so, they kindly directed us to a nearby nursing home. As soon as the nurse led us into a large patio area filled with nurses, residents and their loved ones with video cameras, we knew we had made a terrible mistake. We nervously got through our first two hymns, only nearly fainting from nerves. But on the final song, after Gloria had trusted me with the melody (her first mistake), I somehow completely forgot was I was doing and just stopped singing. I'm not sure if I was trying to listen to the other three, or if my brain had just stopped and zoned out on the page... In any event, there was a sudden lack of words coming out. It was now a very obvious three part harmony, with no soprano. 

But like most elderly people, they smiled, said we sang beautifully and served us our second lunch of the day. We were all full from JPUSA, but not wanting to be rude, we shoveled cold chicken and corn down our throats, smiling and thanking God we had Sierra Mist to wash it down. Next, full of anxiety and Sierra Mist, we started at the fourth floor and worked our way down singing to all the seniors who were unable to make it outside for their labor day BBQ. For me each song was like a new surprise, as in, “oh, we go down here instead of up? I wish I hadn’t just hit that high note...” And, “Oh, we pause here, why am I still singing?... and the wrong words too. Perfect!”

(found on google)

However, no matter how bad I thought I was doing, there was always someone on each floor who was very glad we were there. I asked one man, Carl, what he was doing today and he said nothing, maybe going out to smoke later, but that's it. I realized that most of these people must feel like they’re living without a purpose. Their children are all grown up and independent. Their jobs have long since been filled by a younger generation. Now they have been reduced to watching day time soap operas and hoping a Michael Jackson look-alike will stop by again (readers note: this is not an arbitrary reference, we saw pictures of the seniors with a black M.J.) Suddenly I cared less about my singing and more about God’s own heart for His people. 

This morning we were asked to contemplate what hospitality means to us. For me, hospitality reminds me of a deeply meaningful line from an otherwise stupid movie; it says, “Love is the only shocking act left on the planet.” I find this to be true. Jesus please continue to love through us, and in doing so shock the hell out of this world.