“Practise hospitality”, says Romans 12:13, simply. With the opening of the scheme for welcoming Ukrainian refugees into homes, it is a topic that is currently at the front of many people’s minds.

Clearly, it is important that no-one agrees to such an undertaking without a lot of careful thought – and hopefully much prayer – especially with the possibility of Ukrainian families staying for many months, or even years, if the war continues. Nonetheless, we need always to bear in mind the biblical mandate of Romans 12.

The centrality of hospitality in biblical times

What can we learn about hospitality from the Bible? Let’s go back in time. Imagine yourself a traveller in the ancient Middle East, travelling on a camel, a donkey, a horse, or indeed on foot – depending on how rich you are. Your beasts of burden are loaded with food and water, but as the dusty, dry, desert continues, these begin to run low. Survival becomes a real issue. What a welcome sight is the small settlement you begin to perceive through the hazy sunshine.

You are completely dependent on the kindness of the people living there. They control access to the water, for a start, and could refuse it to you. Safety is also important, as there are people about who could be a danger to an unwary traveller.

It was because of scenarios like this that the millennia-old tradition of hospitality – to family, to friend, and even to enemy – developed.

Abraham’s enthusiastic welcome

In the Bible, the first instance of this is shown by Abraham in Genesis 18, as he greeted the three travellers who passed by his tent:

“As soon as Abraham saw them, he ran out to meet them. Bowing with his face touching the ground, he said, ‘Sirs, please do not pass by my home without stopping; I am here to serve you. Let me bring some water for you to wash your feet; you can rest here beneath this tree. I will also bring a bit of food, it will give you strength to continue your journey. You have honoured me by coming to my home, so let me serve you.’ They replied; ‘Thank you, we accept’. Abraham hurried into the tent and said to Sarah, ‘Quick, take a sack of your best flour, and bake some bread.’ Then he ran to the herd and picked out a calf that was tender and fat, and gave it to a servant who hurried to get it ready. He took some cream, some milk, and the meat, and set the food before the men. There under the tree he served them himself, and they ate.”

This may seem a bit over the top to us: running to meet them, bowing low, his eagerness, choosing the best to serve these strangers, serving them in this way. There is a real sense of hurry about the whole passage.

This may seem a bit over the top to us: running to meet them, bowing low, his eagerness, choosing the best to serve these strangers, serving them in this way.

But it was all part of the traditions that had already built up in this region, many of which exist to this day. If you Google ‘hospitality in the Middle East’, you get some wonderful tales of the eagerness of people to share. For example, one traveller described on their cycling blog how they “crossed the border between Greece and Turkey nervously, visions of militants and bombs in our minds. Those fears dissolved as the first shopkeeper we met insisted on putting a thick wedge of homemade cheese and grapes from his garden into our bags. It was the first clue that our primary danger was not death at gunpoint but rather death by overfeeding.

During our 6-month journey across the region we were taken hostage regularly by families who rolled out multi-course meals, chocolates and fruits, and endless glasses of tea. This continued until we could bear no more and discreetly slipped to the bathroom to loosen our trousers--a fine torture indeed and one which we endured with pleasure dozens of times over.”

When they asked why people were so generous and kind, one man answered to them, “It is my duty. You are a guest in my country.”

Middle Eastern hospitality etiquette

Much etiquette built up around this duty of hospitality, which, once understood, we can see in some of the stories of the Old Testament, in particular.

The host was expected to provide water for washing, food to eat, water to drink, shelter and protection. A host, or his servant, would wash the traveller’s feet, which was both a useful service, and may also have symbolised an absence of hostile intent from the beginning. Etiquette dictated that the guest was given the best place in the tent or building, and that you shared of your best, not the leftovers. Even today, guests in many Arab cultures should be cautious about admiring something of their host’s, as their host may feel obliged to give it to them.

Etiquette dictated that the guest was given the best place in the tent or building, and that you shared of your best, not the leftovers.

Protection was also especially important. By taking someone in, you offered them your protection. To the Bedouins, who keep alive these traditions in their oldest forms, being under a man's roof still means being under their protection, a sacred custom. One famous incident in Arab folklore is that of a man who took refuge, unwittingly, in the tent of a chief whose son he had just killed. Despite this, the inviolable law was still observed. Not until the customary three days had passed, at which time the guest was departing, was the tribe free to go in pursuit and avenge the chief’s dead son.

A refusal to offer hospitality could sometimes be seen as tantamount to aggression, or even declaration of war.

Benefits and duties

Of course, the duties were not confined to the person offering hospitality. There were benefits and duties for both sides. For a start, in the sparse, spread-out populations of the desert, meeting and welcoming a stranger enabled the host to hear news of the outside world, whatever the traveller had to share. Politeness of course, was, as now, expected also of the guest. A duty not to overindulge, or to express a desire for something that would be unreasonable for the host to give. I found one reference to the Bedouin, for example, suggesting that the host would feel beholden to share anything, even to the extent of the honour of his wife or daughter.

The law of protection works both ways. As the host and his guest eat together, a bond of ‘bread and salt’ is established between them, seen as a covenant. The guest is then honour-bound to offer protection to his host at a later date.

Knowing about such a tradition, which extended into New Testament times, adds to an even greater understanding of the significance, at the time, of the Lord’s supper, and the even greater betrayal of Judas. It was considered a despicable act to eat with someone then betray them, as expressed in Psalm 41 – where David laments, “Even my best friend, the one I trusted most, the one who shared my food, has turned against me.”

As we have noted, hospitality was ingrained in the culture of the Old Testament. Next week, we will look further into this, considering also what such teaching means for us today, with the ‘Homes for Ukraine’ scheme particularly in mind.