Dear Friends,
I remember the day we first moved to this area, in August 2008. We were unloading our goods from a borrowed horsebox that was packed to the brim in the front drive of our newly rented accommodation, when a tractor drove past the front of the house. I looked up to see it stopping. The farmer turned off the engine and climbed out of the cab. Oh dear, I thought, this doesn’t look good. In our previous home I was used to farmers that kept themselves to themselves. The only time they spoke to you was if they had something they wanted you to know – usually not complimentary. If you waved at them while driving, you rarely got a response other than a stare. It took them a long time to build up any level of trust in you, and you had to work hard to earn it. There were, of course, a few friendly exceptions, and they stood out for that reason. They would stop, chat and give you the time of day. But it was unusual, and only a handful or so in a long dale.
So when the tractor stopped outside our new residence, I expected the worst. Perhaps a warning about keeping our dog out of the fields, or telling us never to park on the verge side and hinder machinery or other farm traffic on the road. Instead, he came towards me with his big hand outstretched and a broad smile. ‘Welcome’, he said, ‘I’m so-and-so from the farm just along the lane here.’ He asked who we were, where we had come from, and what we did. I almost fainted. I never expected such a friendly greeting from anyone on our first day, let alone a farmer. But there he was, stopping his work to make some strangers feel welcome.
That moment of kindness has stayed with me for these last 18 years, and I don’t suppose I will ever forget it. It completely changed my entire expectation of life in our new home. He wouldn’t have known that – he was just doing what he did, being friendly and welcoming. But its impact was immense. In fact it set the tone for much of what was to come. Time and again I have found a friendly welcome where I didn’t expect it. Perhaps that says more about me and the previous places I have lived, but we have been shown kindness and acceptance by so many people throughout the benefice since we moved here.
I’m remembering this now because we recently had a reading from the Bible in church in which St Paul commands us to ‘extend hospitality to strangers’ (Rom 12:13). It brought to mind that incident all those years ago, and the countless others besides. The Bible speaks of hospitality as a mark of Christian discipleship. Of course its not exclusive to Christianity – there are many other cultures around the world where hospitality to strangers is of the utmost importance – even if it causes incredible inconvenience, such as giving the last morsel of food in the house. But it is one of the hallmarks of being a follower of Christ, to welcome the stranger, to feed, clothe and look after them, regardless of their origin, culture, language, creed or colour, or even how they come to be here. In fact I would go so far as to say that we cannot think of ourselves as a disciple of Christ’s, or call ourselves ‘Christian’, if we turn our backs on those in need of hospitality.
The reason for this, and Paul’s command, which is the same as Jesus’ command to love our neighbour as ourselves (remember the question he was then asked, ‘and who is my neighbour?’, and his response was to tell the story of the Good Samaritan), is simple. It is because we have become strangers to God and to each other, but, totally undeservingly, and without any merit whatsoever, God has extended his hospitality to us in Jesus. We are welcomed into God’s presence through the costly gift of his only Son. We are invited to sit at his banqueting table and receive the riches of his feast, the foretaste of which is Holy Communion. It is for this reason we are to offer the same hospitality that we have received. In fact, Jesus says of hospitality ‘when you did it to the least of these, you did it to me.’ To refuse to give hospitality, then, is like slapping God in the face, leaving him outside in the cold, hungry, thirsty, and sick. Instead, we are invited to welcome the stranger with joy. You never know, it may an angel in disguise, or even Christ himself. Putting this into practice, then, becomes an expression of our civic life – the way we live in society, our politics if you like. So our faith is our politics, and our politics expresses our faith, which is, after all, just an expression of the way we treat our neighbour. If it doesn’t, our faith is worthless.
Your friend and priest,
Robert
Bewcastle Benefice Newsletter – October 2026
The benefice newsletter for October can be found here.
Recent Comments