Hobbits, Hesed, and the Universe Next Door
I love fictional worlds, alternate realities and possibilities that stretch the imagination.Whether the hobbits, trolls, and wizards of Middle Earth or the grizzled survivors of blighted dystopias, something about strange worlds draws me in. I think it has something to do with my desire to explore and see new things, in the real world or the corners of my own mind. I’m enticed by the mystery and discovery of the unknown.
A part of me loves that we can’t define hesed well. It’s the same part of me that loves the Trinity, God’s Sovereignty, and a New Jerusalem. For all that God has revealed of Himself to us, there is so much more mystery to explore. St. Augustine said, “Even when he reveals himself, God remains a mystery beyond words: If you understood Him, it would not be God.” If God is love(1John 4:16), it somehow follows that even His love must be a mystery. I’m not saying we can’t know things, but mystery and reality can be the same, which is why our primary saving virtue is faith and not knowledge.
Much of what we know of God is revealed in us as creatures made in His own image. Each person a beautiful tragedy: sinful and thoroughly depraved, yet shining forth some reflection of the beauty instilled by a creator who made each one unique. There is an adventure of discovery in each person we meet, a mystery to unravel, in as much as we are capable. To borrow from James W. Sire, each of my neighbors is a “Universe Next Door.”
It’s election season here in Johnson County, Kansas, and I’d guess in your neck of the woods as well. One of the things I don’t enjoy about this season is seeing all of the yard signs going up. While I love the American heritage of representative government, democracy, and freedom, I don’t really like knowing who and what my neighbors are voting for. While I’m glad that Larry and I share a political alliance which contrasts with everyone else on the block, I didn’t actually want to know that. If Satan is doing anything of importance on my street, it would most likely be making me care too much about those yard signs, turning my heart off toward my lost neighbors, whooshing out “this little light of mine” by quenching my desire to witness, and robbing my heart of the zeal to explore. The adversary wants us callous because an uncaring Christian is an unfruitful one.
In such a time when differences rather than commonalities define our relationships, or lack thereof, and outrage is the tone of every podcast and pundit, commission yourself as your neighborhood’s cultural anthropologist. Ask questions, dig up the artifacts of your neighbors’ thoughts and feelings and beliefs about life. Examine them and try to discern their worldviews. We’ll call this an exercise in “Intellectual Hospitality.”
Retired Amherst professor Peter Elbow might encourage us to engage in a fresh kind of critical thinking by taking part in “The Believing Game.” We all know “The Doubting Game,” it’s the one we play when we critique, contradict, and mock the opinions that strike us as wrong. And that’s not to say that some ideas shouldn’t strike us as wrong, but disagreement should not be the same as disengagement. “The Believing Game” invites us to get to know others who think differently than we do with curiosity, humility, and grace. “The Believing Game” invites others to be welcomed, heard, and respected. It is a platform for hospitality.
Hebrews 13:2, “Do not neglect hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels without knowing it.” The greek idea of hospitality, Xenia, is showing generosity to those who are far from home. Our own translation of hospitality comes from the latin word Hospes, which means “stranger.” How do we treat those who are far from their true home in God? How do we practice hospitality to the lost? Our Father demonstrates to us the ultimate model of hospitality and hesed in Romans 5: 6-8
My lost neighbors are not my enemies, but even if they were, the bonds of hesed would demand the same generosity and hospitality from me I would offer to a friend, yea, even moreso. Practicing “Intellectual Hospitality” is a form of welcome. It is an invitation to relationship instead of rivalry. It is listening and seeking to understand what lies in my neighbor’s heart. It’s discovering a foreign land, a fantastical world and maybe even a dark one, but the adventure is only enhanced if it is a matter of rescuing a soul from Mount Doom! When we’ve asked the right questions, listened to the whys and come to understanding about that odd universe living next door, we’re engaging in missions! We’re learning to speak a heart language, communicate the gospel more effectively, and admire the wonders of God’s creation. Your neighborhood is a mystery, an alternate universe. Go explore!