my mom, my mother-in-law, and…st. benedict?


This door marker greeted me on retreat last weekend. A small but important sign that I was in a place of hospitality, a hallmark of the Benedictines and their spirituality.


I thought about hospitality often while I was on retreat. When I saw the generous plates of snacks set out at every break. When one of the sisters helped me navigate their breviary books for evening prayer. When I noticed the basket of toiletries at the bathroom sink with a note to help yourself if you’d forgotten anything at home.

Small gestures that convey a deeper embrace of the stranger as guest.

. . .

In his Rule for monastic orders, Saint Benedict writes that all guests who present themselves are to be welcomed as Christ. I remember seeing these words engraved in stone near the Abbey Church at Saint John’s when I first started graduate studies at the School of Theology.

During the next three years of studying and then five years of working within a Benedictine community, I’ve learned plenty about hospitality from the brothers and sisters within the monasteries.

But whenever I think of how to welcome guests as Christ, I still think first of two mothers I’ve been blessed to know.

My mom. She turns down the sheets and blankets at night, inviting her guests to slip into bed. She arranges bouquets in bedrooms and tiny bud vases in bathrooms. She chooses favorite books and stuffed animals to line each grandchild’s bed. She sets Martha-Stewart-worthy centerpieces on the kitchen table and pulls out homemade soup and sandwich fixings to greet late-night travelers who drag in from the airport.

And if you arrive so late that you’re sure no one could possibly be waiting up for you (she still is), she’ll leave a candle glowing in the dark kitchen, just enough light to let you see the “WELCOME!!!” sign scrawled and circled on the refrigerator white board, exclamation points barely enough to contain her joy.

My mother-in-law. She fills the table with family, friends, neighbors and strangers. She invites anyone who doesn’t have a place to go for a holiday – seminary students from Nigeria, new neighbors from Egypt, families from Colombia, shirt-tail relatives from Canada – to join any gathering she’s throwing. She rearranges the dining room to make one long table so that everyone has a place. She makes sure every elderly relative goes home with a heaping Chinet plate of leftovers to reheat the next day.

Every time I’ve brought a friend home who’s received their welcome, I hear my own thoughts echoed in their comments as we pull out of the driveway – Your mom is honestly the nicest, most thoughtful person I’ve ever met. Does your mother-in-law seriously make a spread like that for every Sunday supper?

Clearly they each have the gift.

. . .

Sometimes I feel intimidated by their hospitality. Both these women have the charism for welcome: a gift given for the good of the community. If I don’t share the same instinct, should I just give up? My welcome of guests tends more towards worry – is our home too messy? is the guest room a disaster? will they be bored by our current life with littles that sets our family’s days?

But then I remind myself that both these women are expert homemakers. The honor of their life’s work has been deeply tied to the warm center of the home they created as a place of welcome, not just for their families but for any who cross their doorstep. Whether their hospitality first came by instinct or desire, they’ve honed the habits that became a practice that formed a way of life.

I imagine it’s the same for any Benedictine.

So perhaps here’s hope for me yet, and hopefully many more years in which to grow in learning what it means to embody a gracious reception of those who show up at my door. Christ in the face of friend or stranger.

Knowing each of these women well, I’m sure they’d scoff at any compliment of themselves as Christ-welcomers. But I suspect the secret they’ve learned is something like this: when you welcome a guest as Christ, you become like Christ yourself. Generous, compassionate, and loving.

The wider your welcome, the wider your heart.

. . .

Today is a Benedictine feast, the anniversary of Benedict’s death in 543. They’ll celebrate in true welcoming fashion at Saint John’s and Saint Benedict’s.

If it weren’t for the fact that I’ll be posting this today and my mom will surely blush when she reads it, I’d doubt that she or my husband’s mom would ever know this is a day that celebrates their life’s work as well.

But isn’t that the gift of those who open wide their door for guest or stranger? Teaching the rest of us how humility goes hand-in-hand with hospitality.

My kids have already picked up on this ancient Benedictine truth. They’re constantly asking when they get to visit their grandparents next. Because even if they can’t yet name it, they know how it feels to be welcomed as Christ.

Like your arrival is the long-awaited gift that everyone’s been looking for.

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  1. Jane Patterson on 27 March 2014 at 7:40 am

    Like you, I’ve worried because I couldn’t seem to offer this kind of hospitality. I’ve been afraid that I’m just not a hospitable person because I’m often too tired from work to do the preparations that I think are needed to welcome people to my home. And then someone said to me, “No, your classroom and your office are the places of your hospitality. That’s where you offer all kinds of people a complete welcome.” That remark has helped me enormously, in seeing how our hospitality may be shaped by the particularity of our vocations, as you say here about your mother and mother-in-law. Thank you for this reminder and for images of hospitality that I may try to incorporate into my own practices.

    • Laura on 3 April 2014 at 8:49 am

      Jane, this was such an eye-opening perspective for me; thank you for sharing it. I love how you describe our hospitality being shaped by the particularity of our vocations. While at-home hospitality may be a challenge for me, your words made me realize that I value hospitality highly in my writing. So much of what is written on the Internet – and what is written on religion and faith – can tend towards the divisive and vitriolic. My goal in writing is always to approach a subject in a way that can invite different perspectives, but in a hospitable way. Thank you for helping me to name something I have long sensed but never precisely put into words!

  2. on 25 March 2014 at 10:30 pm

    Lovely tribute to your mom and your mother-in-law. Hospitality is such a gift! My dear late friend Mary had it in spades — she made everyone feel welcome. Thanks for sharing its importance.

  3. Kathleen Kelly on 21 March 2014 at 4:12 pm

    Thanks from “Your Mom”. I did loved this read ! Will be calling Susan momentarily 🙂
    Love always,
    Your surprised and honored Mom
    on this Feast of St. Benedict, 2014 …

    • Laura on 25 March 2014 at 2:47 pm

      🙂 love you, mom!

    • Liz on 11 July 2016 at 6:58 pm

      Beautiful words (as always) about 2 amazing mothers, from 1 amazing mother (and awesome best friend). And oh so very true!

      I will always remember my first visit to the Kelly House, and how “feeling welcome” was understatement!

    • Cathie Thomson on 11 July 2016 at 7:45 pm

      I ❤️ your mom! I look forward to welcoming the Kelly family with the Thomson family with Becky’s marriage to Dave! Please come visit us on Heart Lake anytime and I would love to join you at a retreat in the future. See you next week

  4. Mary Nilsen on 21 March 2014 at 11:38 am

    Laura, Love this post, but caught a couple of things I think are typos:

    > inviting her guests (insert to) slip into bed. > > she’ll leaving (change to leave) a candle glowing >

    • Laura on 25 March 2014 at 2:47 pm

      Thank you, Mary – as ever, for your eagle eye!

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