by Breanna Mekuly
Contributor
I used to hate sharing my food. I would hoard and hide Halloween candy in my clothing drawers so my brother wouldn't eat it. I guess I was always afraid that I would run out or that someone would eat whatever it is I thought I really wanted. But I'm not sure I ever even ate all the hidden candy. I just wanted to have it for myself.
However, I loved when people would share their food with me. It seemed like such a gift for someone to share something delicious, and it was a gift I rarely declined. Why aren't they keeping it for themselves? I wondered.
And then I had my first experience of the beauty of sharing food. I was in divinity school, and my friends began a group they called the Lunch Club. Each day, we met in the common room and shared food. One person would prepare a meal for the rest of us.
It took me a long time to fully participate because I was still struggling to make and share food with others. Breaking bread together every day (sometimes literally tearing a piece off a loaf), however, taught me the beauty of neighborliness and generosity. I experienced the power of communion, of sharing stories and space with others over food. And eventually, I also began to accept the food others shared with me, recognizing their meager sharing as a great gift of hospitality, of saying: "I am glad you are here."
Over the summer, I lived in community with the Benedictine sisters of Erie, Pennsylvania, while working as Sr. Joan Chittister's intern. What I experienced with the sisters was another form of true hospitality.
These sisters practice a sort of interruptive hospitality. On many occasions, I witnessed a sister stop whatever she was doing to greet and shower a guest with attention, appreciation and care.
For example, one day during the internship, I was helping Sister Joan reorganize the library in her house. My mother and aunts had arrived from Wisconsin late the night before and were scheduled to meet me at noon at the offices. I was going to show them around the local ministries and introduce them to the sisters I worked with on a daily basis.
There was much organizing for Sister Joan and me to do, but around 11:45 a.m., we began cleaning up so I could leave to greet my family. As we sorted through the last shelf of books, I heard the door open and familiar voices coming our way. I looked up and saw my mom and two aunts standing there, in Joan Chittister's house!
Immediately, Sister Joan put down what she was doing, walked over to them and asked with great interest and excitement, "Now, which one is Breanna's mom?" She threw her arms around my mother and planted a loving kiss on her cheek. Holding her at arms' length, Sister Joan looked my mother up and down and told her she didn't look nearly old enough to be my mother.
My mom blushed, thrilled with the welcome. Sister Joan then greeted and gladly received my aunts.
Then Sister Joan did something I would never expect from an internationally famous author and speaker who had much to do to prepare for upcoming events: She ushered my family into her living room, invited them to sit down and asked if she could get them a drink. She asked them about themselves, about the 10-hour drive they made the night before, and what our plans were for the weekend. She suggested places to eat and things to do. And she made sure they felt welcome in Erie and in her house.
As we left, I was so grateful for this gift of hospitality that Sister Joan had given us. With such a busy day ahead of her, she easily could have greeted my family with a wave and hello from her seated spot in front of the bookshelf and wished us well as we walked away. Instead, she stopped what she was doing, walked up to each guest and greeted her as if greeting a long-lost friend. This model of hospitality, of acknowledging and embracing a stranger like she is Christ, of truly seeing the other, is enchanting.
What is most impressive is that hospitality for the sisters is not a onetime event. Rather, they live the practice of hospitality enough that they allow the virtue to become a practice and the practice to change the way in which they live their lives.
The Benedictine sisters also told me a story that spans decades and continues to affect the way in which I am coming to understand the practice of hospitality. Thirty years ago, some sisters encountered a family at their soup kitchen in Erie that was greatly struggling. The mother was experiencing major health problems, and the father was out of the picture. The three little boys needed stability and love.
Recognizing this need, three sisters changed their routines to make time and space to take these boys into their home to ensure that each child was loved, fed, educated, and had a place to sleep. Each sister paid special attention to a different boy so that all were given what was needed.
During one boy's rough teenage years, one sister went so far as to move into housing separate from the community so she could provide her "son" with more attention and support. Now, 30 years later, she continues to accompany him through his own health struggles. And although their relationship has had many ups and downs, she continues to love him unconditionally. And she loves him fiercely.
Might this be what the love of God looks like? A love that breaks bread with others, a love that welcomes the stranger with open arms and joyful delight, a love that is fierce and unconditional and willing to make drastic changes to accommodate another? If so, what a beautiful love this is!
It is no wonder, then, that the sisters' hospitality has had such an impact on me. I seek this sort of attention and love; I desire to be welcomed and delighted in these same ways. The experiences of hospitality I witnessed in Erie have been great gifts in addressing these needs. And in experiencing these gifts, I wish, too, to share a gift of appreciation and generosity with others.
[Breanna Mekuly was Benedictine Sr. Joan Chittister's intern from May 9 to July 15, 2016. She has a master's degree in theological studies and an emphasis in biomedical ethics from Vanderbilt Divinity School in 2014.]