The Social Church- Part 3

There’s a reason a pitcher typically comes with both a lip and a handle. At times it must be held and filled up under a faucet, and at times it is the means to fill cups and goblets or other vessels. And though this metaphor is pretty transparent already, you as a Christian vessel are usually in one mode or the other in any moment – receiving from the Lord in your devotion time, or sharing his Spirit with others by witnessing or counseling those around you.  But if ever there was an opportunity to perform both functions at once, it might be practicing hospitality.

Aquila and Priscilla live out this lesson in the New Testament, in a testimony that starts and ends in Rome. First they take in Paul as a co-worker making tents in Corinth, then later they instruct Apollos in Ephesus after traveling there with Paul, and eventually they become pastors of sorts, hosting a church in the city where they were once expelled by Claudius several years earlier. As we heard in Sunday’s message, the New Testament does not give us any counter-examples of people growing in a solitary or isolated walk of faith. Furthermore, those that you help to grow also can help you to grow.

It’s interesting to note that, in Corinth, Aquila and Priscilla’s hospitality does a little more than provide a place to sleep or work for Paul, and a launch point for him to minister elsewhere. Beyond that, it becomes a platform of ministry for Aquila and Priscilla. By the time the couple is back in Rome, they are hosting a local church. “Greet Priscilla and Aquila, my co-workers in Christ Jesus. They risked their lives for me,” Paul writes in the epistle to the Romans after they return there. “(And) greet also the church that meets at their house,” (Romans 16:3-5). A life of hospitality certainly seems to have helped them grow their own situation.

I wish I could say I have mastered this life lesson. I know I feel a sense of growth from aiding in Love Week and the shelter team ministries, and I know I struggle less with sin and feel more grace when I’m investing in other people. I liked the example of the Dead Sea this week, which creates a harsh local climate, not because it lacks an influx of water, but because that water lacks any outlet. At times when I’m reluctant to open my home to guests because of how modest I think it is, or I cultivate solitary pursuits because I think no one wants to spend time with me, I sense my recalcitrant flesh and old natural ways reasserting themselves. Investment in others is risky, I know that, and it’s probably why I fear it sometimes. But whenever I feel that way I know it’s time to tip the pitcher again and start pouring out what God has stored within me.

Written by: Chad Halcom

Edited by: Jenelle Kelly