On Philoxenia ("Hospitality")
Challenging xenophobia by generously hosting others in our homes
Most people know the word “xenophobia.” Coming from the Greek roots xeno (stranger/foreigner) + phobia (fear), in modern English, xenophobia can refer to anything from a mild discomfort around outsiders to outright campaigns to erase them from public view.
But have you ever heard of the word philoxenia? Philoxenia, with the Greek roots philo (love) + xeno (stranger/foreigner), is a word that typically gets translated as “hospitality,” but its literal meaning would be more like “love of foreigners/strangers.”
For Christians, the word philoxenia is used many times in the New Testament, and is always translated as “hospitality.” For example, see:
Hebrews 13:2 “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.”
Romans 12:13: “Seek to show hospitality.”
Titus 1:8: “[an elder] must be hospitable.”
1 Timothy 3:2: “An overseer must be … hospitable.”
1 Peter 4:9: “Show hospitality to one another without grumbling.”
Moreover, its clear both from the Gospels and from the Epistles that the type of philoxenia that is commanded of Christians goes beyond what would be typical in the Greco-Roman world. As I was comparing and contrasting these two conceptions of philoxenia, I asked ChatGPT to make a chart summarizing the key differences:
Clearly, there is a big difference between the type of hospitality would be expected of a Roman noble, verus that of a practicing ancient Christian. Moreover, as we can tell both from the ancient cultural context as well as other verses in the Bible1, this type of hospitality is more than just inviting someone over for a meal once in a blue moon. It means doing life-on-life, and welcoming people into homes even when it’s not completely convenient. It may even mean saying… “Yes In My Spare Room.” After all, why else would Peter need to command Christians to show hospitality without grumbling? Only if it were a bit of a burden, and something that felt at least somewhat uncomfortable!
If philoxenia, as defined by the New Testament, was countercultural even in its own time, I think it is extremely countercultural in 21st century America. While perhaps previous American generations may have been better at hosting strangers and friends, hospitality is a lost art for many American Christians (especially post-COVID). On average, most people think hospitality just means having friends over for dinner once in a while. I think biblically speaking that’s the floor - in actuality, Christian philoxenia entails inviting not just friends but even new acquaintances into your home, not just for a meal, but potentially to spend the night.
As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, I’m the type of person (like most middle-class Americans) who values privacy and never would have expected to have people not in my nuclear family live with us. But, over the past few years, my wife and I have hosted numerous people at our house for extended stays. We’ve been surprised how much joy we’ve had, and how much it has blessed those people.
As I continue this blog, I’m going to keep arguing from a number of angles that “Yes In My Spare Room” is an enjoyable, life-giving practice.2 But today, I specifically want to argue that practicing YIMSR is a key way to combat the spirit of xenophobia. Just like in the first century Roman world, I think Christian philoxenia cuts against some common American values. Consider:
The left-hand side reflects widespread, middle-class American values. Many Americans think there’s not enough to go around. They crave privacy and security. They are fearful of outsiders, and prioritize their family. If they do politics, they do so from the comfort of a smartphone. They don’t engage in hospitality unless they can arrange everything perfectly.
But I don’t think that reflects the values of the Kingdom of God. Instead, in the Kingdom of God, we share, trusting in God’s provision. We prioritize God’s family (while not neglecting our own). We do politics in an embodied, personal way, showing up for those who are on the margins. We show up as our real selves, even if it’s a bit messy.
For all these reasons, I think that practicing philoxenia/hospitality will help us get better at living out the right hand side of the chart.
Is hospitality easy? Not always.
Will it make us want to grumble? 1 Peter 4:9 implies that it will!
But I think that for those who want to fight xenophobia, one of the best ways we can do so is by practicing philoxenia. Whether the people we invite are foreigners or friends, strangers or citizens, by inviting them into our homes, we are proclaiming that God’s love goes beyond just our immediate nuclear families.
See what Jesus says in Luke 14:13-14, “But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed. Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”
Of course, maybe I’m preaching to the choir here, as the people who subscribe to this Substack are likely people who already seek to be hospitable! However I still think it’s important in this unique cultural moment to name, identify, and promote philoxenia.
This is a very Christian interpretation of philoxenia, not a Greek one. In Homer, the natural first reaction when encountering a traveler from across the sea was to ask if they were really a traveler, or someone coming to rape and pillage. People feared strangers for good reason and we shouldn't forget the fear when we praise the hospitality.
Hospitality is also a power game in most cases. Strangers in town don't go to the poorest hut, they go to the local big man. The big man is the one likely to have extra food or a bed, because he's used his authority to take and redistribute community resources. His gift of hospitality is a demonstration of power, and though the gift may be sincere it is always partly transactional.
Τhat reminded me of this inscription in the entrance of Calimera village, S. Italy, that welcomes the visitors, writing in grecano (greek dialect of S. Italy):
“You are not a stranger, here in Calimera” (zeni su en ise ettu sti kalimera - kalimera means good morning in Greek)