The Table of the Lord: Hospitality and Diversity in the Early Church—and in Ours

When we picture the early church, we often imagine crowded synagogues or apostles preaching in open marketplaces. But Scripture tells us that the heartbeat of Christian community did not begin in large sanctuaries—it began in living rooms. The church was born in houses: around tables, in courtyards, on rooftops where families prayed, sang, taught, and broke bread together. The book of Acts repeatedly reminds us that the gospel advanced not by the power of buildings, but by the willingness of believers to open their homes.
These early Christians did not simply host gatherings; they made space for one another’s lives. They welcomed strangers, embraced people from different backgrounds, and learned to love those who did not look, sound, or come from the same places they did. Their homes became microcosms of the kingdom—places where men and women, young and old, Jew and Gentile, slave and free gathered at one table under one Lord.

This ancient pattern still teaches us today.

As I watch our own church, I am consistently encouraged by the hospitality many of you practice. You welcome people into your homes, but also into your hearts. I’ve seen you listen patiently to people whose stories are different from your own. I’ve watched meals shared between those who grew up worlds apart. I’ve witnessed conversations that acknowledge the reality of our differences while celebrating the unity we have in Christ. This is not small. It is sacred.

Hospitality in the early church was not about entertaining guests; it was about embodying the gospel. Opening one’s home was an act of discipleship. Sharing a meal was an act of ministry. Making room for someone different was an act of witness. And nothing has changed. Every time you intentionally include someone, you give testimony to the kingdom Jesus inaugurated.

But hospitality does more than bless others—it shapes us. When we invite people in, God stretches our assumptions, widens our compassion, and deepens our understanding of what His family truly looks like. Diversity in the body of Christ is not an inconvenience to manage—it is a gift to receive. It reflects a God whose creativity knows no bounds and whose grace reaches across every dividing line of the world.

So as we continue to grow, may we not drift from what made the early church strong. May our homes remain places of fellowship, our tables places of unity, and our hearts places of welcome. And may the world see through us that the gospel does not merely bring people together—it builds a new kind of family.

May we be found faithful in opening our doors, opening our hands, and opening our lives, just as Christ has opened His to us.