AS I WRITE this, my wife and I have recently returned from a few days away, spent in celebration of our anniversary. We drove to our destination, stopping for lunch along the way to break up the trip. When we arrived at the hotel, we checked in and relaxed a bit before making tentative plans for where to go, what to do, and where to eat. That evening, we enjoyed a leisurely dinner, and afterward, a stroll along the marina.

The hotel, of course, wasn’t free. Neither were the restaurants. Most tourist attractions cost money as well. We’re on the frugal side, and resist doing things that feel too expensive. Are we getting good value for the money? Is it worth it? Should we stay somewhere else, eat something else, do something else? These are the questions we ask from our side.

On the other side are all the people we pay, directly or indirectly, for their services, for what they contribute to our vacation experience. They’re running businesses, after all, not charities. They have to balance what they can offer against what they need to charge, given the competition and what the market will bear.

All of this is part of what’s now known now as the hospitality industry. You can earn graduate degrees in hospitality, which will require coursework in such areas as marketing, financial management, and data analytics.

That’s all well and good; honestly, I don’t think I’d want to stay in a hotel run by people who didn’t know what they were doing. But it says something about the world we live in, especially in more affluent societies. Hospitality used to be a virtue. Now it’s an industry; you pay other people to give you a hotel or dining “experience.”

But for those of us who don’t have degrees in the subject, “hospitality” usually means being a good and gracious host. We might, for example, invite friends or acquaintances over for a nice meal, or put up family members from out of town — as long as they don’t, as the saying goes, “overstay their welcome.” There are limits, after all, to our hospitality.

What are those limits? If you’re not part of the industry, you’re not being paid for your hospitality. So why would you do it? And specifically, would you extend hospitality to a stranger? Would you take them into your home? What would you need to know before you did?

AS I’VE SUGGESTED before, John’s world was different from ours. People traveling through the Roman Empire could find overnight lodging at public inns. But these weren’t elegant five-star hotels with lots of amenities; you might not get much more than a place to sleep on the ground. Moreover, public inns and their innkeepers generally had a bad reputation. Travelers stayed at their own risk.

And there was a different kind of risk, too, for anyone who welcomed in a stranger. I don’t mean some horror movie scenario in which a person who seems nice at first turns into a homicidal maniac when the lights go out. Think of it this way. Many of us today barely know our neighbors, if at all. In that kind of environment, it’s nobody else’s business whom we invite into our home. But in John’s world, such an invitation meant that the person came under your temporary care and protection. They became something like an honorary member of your household, putting your own status in the community on the line.

Hospitality, therefore, was not to be taken for granted, not even among believers. The apostle Peter, for example, had to instruct his readers to “Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling” (1 Pet 4:9). The word “grumbling” suggests someone resentfully muttering under their breath. Why would Peter feel the need to say this? Some Christians, it seems, were just going through the motions. What Peter wanted was for his readers to live as if Jesus might come back at any moment. Their hospitality was to be an outward expression of genuine love and generosity.

The virtue of hospitality was particularly important to the early Christian movement. Even though the number of believers was growing steadily, Christians were still a distinct minority in the culture at large. Were there safe and welcoming places for missionaries and evangelists to stay during their travels? This was not a business opportunity but a chance for those who had the means to provide tangible support to the ministry.

I imagine that this was a source of spiritual and emotional support as well. I know what it’s like to be a stranger yet welcomed as a brother or sister simply because we share a common bond in Jesus. Perhaps you know that feeling too, like traveling in a country where you don’t speak the language, then stumbling across someone from your hometown. Hospitality can feel like that kind of gift, a feeling of belonging even as a stranger in a strange land.

John’s friend Gaius, apparently, was a man with a reputation for true hospitality, as 3 John suggests:

Dear friend, you are faithful in what you are doing for the brothers and sisters, even though they are strangers to you. They have told the church about your love. Please send them on their way in a manner that honors God. It was for the sake of the Name that they went out, receiving no help from the pagans. We ought therefore to show hospitality to such people so that we may work together for the truth. (3 John 5-8, NIV)

In John’s day, when someone wrote a letter asking someone for a favor, it was customary to compliment them first, to “butter them up” before making the request. But John isn’t being disingenuous. He’s reminding Gaius of the good reports he’s heard about his hospitality; Gaius has a public reputation for faithfully and lovingly welcoming other believers even when he doesn’t know them personally.

Imagine, therefore, Gaius receiving such a letter from the hand of Demetrius. Gaius would sense the warmth of John’s words, reinforcing the connection and loyalty between them. But he would also realize that whatever he did next would be reported back to the apostle — and probably to Diotrephes as well. What to do?

John isn’t twisting his arm. Essentially, he’s telling Gaius to simply do what he’s always done, to continue being the person he’s already demonstrated himself to be. And as we’ll see, he also helps Gaius to remember the bigger picture; his hospitality is his way of participating in the work of the gospel.