“The Odyssey, the Bible and Hospitality”

We see this clearly in The Odyssey, which is an ancient Greek work of fiction, but it is characteristic of a general Mediterranean and Near-Eastern world view and an understanding we also see reflected in the Bible if we are looking for it. The Odyssey is a familiar story for many, but it is still strange enough for most of us to notice important aspects that are shared in our own familiar texts from the Bible that we can easily miss. In the space here, there are four basic principles worth identifying:
Firstly, there was the belief that strangers may be gods or angels in disguise and visitations from a stranger can bring blessing. In The Odyssey, this is the most common motivation because the stories depicted gods and goddesses who were continually testing their human subjects with visitations. But we see this in both the Old Testament and New Testament as well. The most common story is the story of Abraham’s visitation from three strangers (angels?) who came to tell him and Sarah they were to have a son (Gen 18:1-8), and we are expected to know this story when we read Hebrews 13:2 which admonishes us to always be ready to entertain strangers because they may be angels in disguise. But adjacent to this principle are other stories such as The Widow of Zarephath (I Kings 17:7-24) who welcomes Elijah and, with trust in God who asked her to provide for the prophet, cooks a meal for him with the last handful of flour and oil she had before starvation ensued. As a result of her hospitality, she is blessed with enough flour and oil each day to provide for both her son, her guest, and herself until the famine ended. We get an adaptation of this idea in Matthew 25 when Jesus declares that those who take in a stranger, cared for the sick, clothed the naked, visited the prisoner and fed the hungry did this (or did not, as the case may be) to Jesus himself.
Secondly, there is a principle of reciprocity as an act of diplomacy and cultural exchange present in these ancient stories. There was a social expectation, which still exists today, that if you stayed with someone and partook of their hospitality whilst in their land, they would – in turn – expect you to welcome them when they were travelling in your land. In some cases, family members and children were hosted (which is where the word ‘hostage’ originates), and sometimes raised, by a family elsewhere and from those exchanges, a relationship developed and bonds grew between groups that often led to more formal alliances. These bonds reflected a reality of shared experiences of vulnerability which is reflected in the repeated refrain in the Torah: be kind to strangers and protect the vulnerable ‘for you were once strangers in Egypt’ (Lev 19:33-34; Ex 22:21,23:9; Deut 10:19, 24:17-22). This is where the expectation of solidarity arises in the Bible: we should actively remember our own times of vulnerability and suffering, and from that memory we should be motivated to care for others in the way we would have wanted to be treated.
Thirdly, the provision of hospitality was seen as an indicator of a community or individual’s moral and spiritual character by how they responded to the needs of the stranger. It is here where we see some negative examples such as the Sodom narrative (Gen 19:1-11) and its mirror narrative in Judges 19 of the murder of the Levite’s Concubine in Gibeah. In both of these stories, the moral and spiritual depravity of the community is marked by the refusal to recognise the sacred duty to provide protection to guests, and are driven by their desire for violence and abuse instead. The destruction of these cities and the narratives themselves make clear that the sin is in the violation of the laws of hospitality and, therefore, the moral and spiritual character of the community is corrupt. The provision of the Cities of Refuge in the Torah (Num 35; Deut 4 & 19) outline moral and legal principles of protection for those who may be under threat from blood feuds and seeks to preserve life by offering sanctuary. Similarly, Jesus teaches in Luke 10 about the laws of hospitality, which includes the parable of the Good Samaritan, asking us to consider those we assume are righteous and upstanding and don’t act and those we assume are immoral who show us what it means to act hospitably toward a person in need.
Fourth and lastly, we have the stories of those who go above and beyond the call of this sacred duty who are depicted as exemplary heroes. Similar to the Greek myths, those who hold true to the laws of hospitality are recognised; moreover, those who do it without any assurance of reward or reciprocity are celebrated as the most righteous. We have the story of Rahab in Joshua 2 & 6 who risks her life and that of her family, breaks the laws of the land, lies to protect the lives of those who have asked for protection, and – by all accounts – is labelled a traitor by her people for doing so, and yet she is honoured repeatedly for those actions. On a more theoretical level, Jesus’ teachings in Luke 6:32-35 and 14:12-14 take this further: caring for the stranger is not a tit-for-tat, transactional cycle of networking – which it can often turn into – but, instead, it is about doing the right thing simply because it’s the right thing. We are to welcome the stranger, feed the hungry, and provide protection out of a sense of mutual care, not because of a debt or expectations of social hierarchy.
As in The Odyssey, there are also biblical examples where the laws of hospitality are subverted and abused, such as in the case of Jael and Sisera in Judges 4-5, David and Nabal in 1 Samuel 25, or even Jesus and Judas in John 13. But even in these stories, they hinge on the assumption that we know – and prioritise – the laws of hospitality in our own lives such that we can learn from these negative lessons when things go wrong.
In the end, neither The Odyssey nor the Bible seem to care what the exact reasons are for abiding by the laws of hospitality. As we’ve seen, there are multiple motivations and principles which co-exist. Nevertheless, two things are fairly clear: hospitality is a divine law and we have no legitimate excuse to avoid abiding by it. Our moral and spiritual health – as individuals, communities, and nations – depends upon it.
Dr Jayme R. Reaves
Lecturer in Biblical Studies and Theology
Sarum College, Salisbury