Solomon is wise enough to know that the house of prayer receives blessing only when it opens itself and welcomes the “foreigner” and outsiders from “a distant land.” For Israel, this is never easy, since neighboring kingdoms threaten its sovereignty. Fearing invasion doesn’t encourage a climate of hospitality. Still, hospitality remains a promise and a spiritual mandate.
When we let people into our homes, they can get messy. The only way to stay spick-and-span is to live in a bubble. Yet as soon as we welcome others, we welcome all that comes with them. I once read of someone who said that even as she cleans her home left in shambles the day after a party, she remembers the joy of the night before shared with people she loves.
Our homes may be our castles, but unless we welcome the stranger, they remain museums gathering dust. The image of a mansion turned into a museum comes to mind—a place where rooms are roped off and for viewing at a distance only, lest priceless heirlooms are damaged. Do we want to live in such “perfect” spaces? Today’s text reminds us that hospitality is part of our call as we seek to worship fully in God’s presence. Welcoming others into our homes and into our places of worship invites God into our midst as well. It is better to huddle together in a hut and share God’s joy with one another than to live in a pristine world alone.