Hospitality: the friendly reception and treatment of guests or strangers. (Dictionary.com)

When I moved to Russia, I realized that I didn’t have the gift of hospitality.

This fact became abundantly clear the night of the big flood.

Several Russian students had come to our apartment to watch a wedding video of a Russian friend who married an American. Most of them had never seen an American wedding, and they couldn’t wait to watch the blessed event.

Per the local custom, I prepared gallons of tea, baked cookies and other snacks for the gathering.

As the video began, I heard the sound of water. At first, I thought it came from the shower, where a homeless man who often attended our meetings, was known to take advantage of the shower (and clean towels) to bathe.

Then I saw a small wave of water flowing out of the kitchen and snaking down the hall. I ran into the kitchen, and to my horror, saw water gushing from a broken pipe.

Now, this wasn’t an ordinary little pipe under the sink. No. It was a huge pipe running through every kitchen in our ten-story building. We lived on the fifth floor, so there were five floors above us sending their water out our broken pipe.

Of course, immediate clean-up began. My family started sopping up the water and emptying buckets of water into the bathtub. The cause of the ruptured pipe became apparent as I noticed shiny fish scales floating in the water. Lots of fish scales. Someone had a good day of fishing.

Astonishingly, the students continued watching the wedding video. Laughing and having a great time. One or two helped a little, but everyone acted as if this was an ordinary occurrence. No one batted an eye. “Normalna!” they all exclaimed.

As I alternated between mopping up the polluted water and wading through it to prepare more tea, the grumbles began swirling in my head.

Why aren’t they going home?

If they were Americans, they’d know to excuse themselves and leave us to deal with this catastrophe!

Crazy. Russians. Go. Home.

Those were the nicer thoughts swirling through my brain. Fortunately not out my mouth. Well, maybe my husband overheard some of the mutterings.

The deluge finally abated once we ran to every apartment above us and asked people to stop running water in their kitchen. Then the drunk plumber showed up and let’s just say; it took another day before repairs were complete.

Once I’d scrubbed all the fish scales off my floor and feet, I began to realize that I had much to learn from the Russian culture about hospitality.

Russians are known for their hospitality. A Russian dinner lasts for hours. You sit around the table and eat, drink tea, talk, eat, drink tea, talk, and continue to repeat this process for the entire evening. We talked about life, about God, about our families, and lingered at the table until time to go. I quickly learned that if I suggested we move to sit in the living room to sit on the comfortably padded sofa, the party broke up. Fellowship happened around the table.

The dictionary defines hospitality as the friendly reception and treatment of guests or strangers. However, in the Bible, the word used for hospitality literally means “the love of strangers.”

In biblical times, the sharing of a meal together was to share life. A bond of fellowship occurred during the sharing of a meal.

I confess, when we first moved back to America, I struggled with the American version of hospitality. I quickly noticed that in American culture, we often view hospitality as entertainment.

Entertainment generally revolves around impressing people. We want to appear perfect, with a sparkling clean well-decorated home, a chef-inspired meal, and entertainment. Americans gather for entertainment, to watch movies, play games, to do something, but rarely do we sit and talk. Talk about life. Talk about Jesus.

Too often, we entertain with the purpose of making ourselves look good, not to show love to a friend or stranger.  I’ll never forget how those Russian students chose to stay and live through the flood with us. They didn’t care what my house looked like. They just wanted to share life together.

I like Rosaria Butterfield’s description of hospitality in her book, The Gospel Comes with a House Key: Practicing Radically Ordinary Hospitality in Our Post Christian World:

“Hospitality is about opening up your heart and your home, just as you are, and being willing to invite Jesus into the conversation, not to stop the conversation but to deepen it.”

As Christians, our hospitality should always have a strategic purpose. To invite Jesus into the conversation.

I’m so thankful to the many Russians who opened their homes and taught me about true hospitality.

Even when the lesson involved a flood and fish scales.