Entertaining angels can be harder than it sounds, but it’s also worthwhile and important

When I was a child, there was almost always someone I didn’t know at our Thanksgiving table. We regularly hosted students from the college where my dad taught, especially those who were far from home.

I never questioned the author of Hebrews’ instructions: “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it” (Hebrews 13:2 NRSVue). My childhood experiences of hospitality were safe, predictable gatherings that included a greater-than-average chance for dessert, if I was lucky. Entertaining strangers who might be angels seemed like a no-brainer.

While I am grateful for this early exposure to one form of hospitality, my view of the practice widened in divinity school when our ethics professor challenged us to consider the angelic encounters described in Scripture. Far removed from the strangers-turned-friends I had pleasant table conversations with growing up, the angels in Scripture may appear with flaming swords, such as those stationed east of Eden in Genesis 3, or with drawn swords, as the prophet Balaam recounts in Numbers 22.

The more I read, the more difficult and dangerous entertaining angels sounded. It was clear why angels begin so many conversations with “do not fear.”

In Genesis, I read how Abraham’s afternoon plans and the family budget went out the window after three visitors appeared and dinner preparations began by finding a calf in the field (18:1-15). Lot faces danger to his family and the loss of his home (19:1-29), while Jacob’s encounter ends with a permanent limp (32:24-31).

Similar stories in the New Testament recount Mary surrendering her bodily autonomy (Luke 1:26-38) and Zechariah losing his ability to speak (Luke 1:8-22).

The Christian practice of hospitality is about so much more than sharing a meal with people like ourselves. Entertaining strangers as angels in disguise involves risk, vulnerability and encounters with those unlike us. Some level of discomfort is essential. Yet extending hospitality is also a space of discovery and transformation, as our biblical predecessors experienced through their angelic encounters.

Theologian Thomas Ogletree writes: “To offer hospitality to a stranger is to welcome something new, unfamiliar, and unknown into our life-world. … Strangers have stories to tell which we have never heard before, stories which can redirect our seeing and stimulate our imaginations.”

We live in a moment where such connection and transformation are urgently needed. It is also harder and riskier to encounter those unlike us. Christine Pohl explains that as households have become more secluded and private, the risk to host and guest alike has increased.

Institutions play an increasingly important role in creating “third places” where people can connect. These social spaces, distinct from both home and workplace, are harder and harder to find, further limiting opportunities for transformative encounters with strangers.

Some places cannot safely open their doors to strangers in our current moment. The Christian practice of discernment must accompany extending hospitality in communities where particular vulnerable identities are being targeted. Yet in places where this is not the case, creating sacred space for encounter may be exactly what the church is being called to in “such a time as this” (Esther 4:14).

One of the gifts of my work is that I regularly bump into stories of congregations across the country that are doing the hard, messy, scary work of welcoming strangers. I hear more and more stories of churches that are designing third places and drawing on their spiritual resources to create belonging, offer support and remind the world — and themselves — that our value is not in what we produce but in who we are.

The results are as different as the congregations that create them. Members of Mack Avenue Community Church in Detroit asked their neighbors what they needed and, in response, created a community space with a cafe and laundromat. The pastor of Mt. Carmel Missionary Baptist Church in the small town of Folkston, Georgia, took the church outside, worshipping in parks, hosting community days and training cyclists in the town’s national wildlife refuge.

Holy Family Episcopal Church in Houston took an old a meat-packing warehouse and redesigned it to be a worship space that doubles as an art gallery, supporting local artists and welcoming community members all week long. North Decatur Presbyterian Church in suburban Atlanta hosted a community gathering after a government agency 3 miles away laid off a large number of staff. Congregation members made room for people to tell their stories and share resources. They also helped people find a sense of belonging and held their suffering in the larger story that the church tells.

I doubt any of these congregations would say this work is easy or that they’ve been trained to do it. They will likely name failures, lengthy timelines, fears and moments of discomfort as just some of the challenge they faced while deepening their practice of hospitality. Yet they continue to hold open this space. The transformative encounter is simply too important, too beautiful for them to stop.

On the day of Pentecost, the disciples were thrust outside the safety of the house and into a space thronged with strangers. Fire, wind, languages from across the globe and accusations of drunkenness swirled around them. And in that moment, the church was transformed forever.

Amazed and astonished, each one in the multinational crowd heard the good news in the language they spoke at home. Thousands were cut to the heart and received the promise of God for themselves. And the church did what it does best: it welcomed them in, shared its spiritual resources and affirmed their belonging and belovedness.

Change isn’t easy. But it can be made easier, says Kara Powell of Fuller Theological Seminary.

Powell and co-authors Jake Mulder and Raymond Chang blend theology, original research with diverse churches, and business literature to offer guidance for congregational leaders in their new book, “Future-Focused Church: Leading Through Change, Engaging the Next Generation, & Building a More Diverse Tomorrow.”

“We are optimists about the future of the church. We’re very aware of some of the really discouraging data about the fatigue of pastors, churches shrinking, young people disengaging,” said Powell, who is executive director of the Fuller Youth Institute, founder of the TENx10 Collaboration and chief of leadership formation at Fuller.

“But fundamentally, we’re optimists because of what we believe about God,” she said. “God is always working and redeeming.”

The book describes four phases — called “zones” — in the change process and includes stories, research findings and reflection questions. The book ends with a chapter called “A Suggested 18-Month Change Journey,” in which they describe a step-by-step process to implement the learnings of the book.

“It includes our research with 1,000 churches, our literature review of really great organizational and leadership and change research, and also Scripture,” Powell said.

Powell spoke with Faith & Leadership’s Sally Hicks about the book and why she is excited about the future of the church. The following is an edited transcript.

Faith & Leadership: How do you hope people use “Future-Focused Church”?

You’ve highlighted a second type of diversity that we encourage, which is diverse viewpoints. It’s so much easier as a leader to spend time with people who agree with us. But the flip side is, first, we often learn from those who disagree with us. Usually people who disagree with us have important insights that we need to factor into our change process.

The second reason to keep building relationships — even with those who disagree with us — is our change principle. People support what they create. The more we can involve people [so that they are] being heard and feeling like they are helping shape the change, the more they’ll tend to support it.

In general, people want to be listened to more than lectured to, and so we recommend that for leaders across the board.

F&L: The inclusion of young people isn’t just the goal, it’s the process, right? Why do change leaders need to engage young people?

KP: First, I try to start always with theology, and there’s so many examples in Scripture of how important it is to bring the generations together. That’s what the early church was, all generations coming together. I would say it’s theologically grounded.

Second, it certainly is vocationally grounded for me. I feel a calling to young people. And even as my roles keep expanding at Fuller, I’m trying to spend at least 50% of my time on young people because that is the tree trunk of my calling. I have other branches, but young people are the tree trunk.

But the third level that comes to mind for me is that if we don’t engage young people, our churches are going to die. There’s just an inescapable reality to that. It’s not just placating young people and getting them to come join what we’ve always done. It’s handing the keys to young people and co-creating with them.

That’s part of what’s really exciting about this generation, specifically Gen Z and Gen Alpha; they want to co-create. They don’t want to be spectators; they want to be participants. They’re created in God’s image with amazing gifts and have expertise that we need.

F&L: Listening is often recommended for various reasons, but you say that one of the reasons you listen to people is to understand their “mental model.” What do you mean?

KP: Our colleague Scott Cormode has helped us understand mental models.

We have limitless mental models. We have a mental model of what a car is: When you and I think of a car, we have a picture in our mind. When you see something that’s markedly different from the cars you’re used to, it’s startling. You usually reject it.

It’s only as we spend time with people that we understand, What is it they think church should be? What is it that they think worship should be? What is it that they think youth discipleship should be?

As we spend time with them, we understand, Oh, they think of worship as two hymns and then a sermon, and then a hymn and response. If we’re going to change that, we need to understand where they’re starting from and then offer them different mental models.

Maybe instead of two hymns and a sermon and then a hymn and response, we might integrate five minutes of discussion time where people turn to each other in their pews or seats. Because we want a mental model where we’re not just listening but we’re building community with each other, not just engaging with God but also engaging overtly with each other. Listening is so key for mental models.

Another reason listening is so important is because of the lack of trust people feel toward institutions. If you look at data in the U.S., trust in institutions is declining; trust in religious institutions is declining. Young people’s trust is especially declining.

The research on trust shows we don’t rebuild trust through a grand heroic gesture. We rebuild it through everyday acts of integrity, of listening, of caring, of following up when somebody shares a need with us. I think listening is how we’re going to rebuild trust with people who are understandably a little skeptical of the church based on what they see these days.

F&L: Is there anything I didn’t ask that you’d like to add?

KP: A leader can read this article on their own, but they can’t bring about change on their own. Even if it’s two other people who can be part of your transformation team, whatever size church you are at, can you please involve a few other people in your change? Because we’re meant to lead in community, and change happens more effectively in community.

On Sunday, Feb. 16, people gathered after worship in our church’s fellowship hall. It looked, in many ways, like a regular potluck. A large pot of soup was set on the buffet, someone dropped off a bag of clementines, and people brought lots of baked goods. As the food came in, folks who know our church kitchen as well as their own pulled out plates and serving utensils.

There was a mix of people — some of the 125 folks were members of our congregation, but many were neighbors, friends and co-workers. Word had gotten out.

Earlier that week, we sent out an all-church email with the subject line “Organizing Against Cruelty.” It was one way we could respond as the church to the radical disruption in our community caused by the new presidential administration.

Our church, a 375-member PCUSA congregation, is located about 3 miles from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), part of the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services. We have 15 to 20 families in our church whose livelihood depends on work for the CDC, which was among the first targets of spending cuts by the new administration. The agency had become a “public enemy” during COVID because it advocated for restrictions on personal freedom in order to save lives. Now I was receiving emails and text messages from people afraid of losing their jobs.

You don’t cut “an agency.” The CDC is not nameless or faceless. It is a collection of rather remarkable human beings. I am a pastor for some of them. They sing in our choir, play games with our youth group and lead our congregation as elders. They also keep humanity safe from illness. In my experience, they are people of deep faith, who love God and others — commitments that align with their work at the CDC.

My CDC-affiliated congregants were not prepared for this. They all know that when a president is elected, priorities can change; several had shared stories about job pivots under a new administration. But they are stunned that a president could demonstrate such disregard for something as foundational to the common good as public health, and they mourn the loss of the programs they have worked so hard to build.

“Those of us in global health and development are not in it for the money or to push some sort of radical agenda. We want to ensure that people do not die of things like contaminated drinking water, measles, polio, mosquito bites or HIV,” one of our CDC-affiliated congregants told me.

The people I spoke to for this essay asked to remain anonymous, fearing repercussions.

Virtually all their work has been put on hold as they await impending cuts. There has been no explanation from the administration about where there is waste or fraud at the CDC or why the positions being eliminated are not essential to public health — some of the reasons the administration has given for the cuts. It’s randomly inflicted harm.

“The field of global health and development is being decimated like a toddler swiping at a Jenga tower,” one congregant said. “I feel such grief over the lives of U.S. citizens and people across the world that will be lost or irreparably harmed by these changes.”

They are grieving the loss of lives and the loss of programs that have proved to work. They also are grieving the loss of their vocation. Each knows their calling is aligned with the ministry of Jesus, an itinerant healer, who made healing the sick a sign of the inauguration of the kingdom of God.

“My career is truly how I live out my faith — using my hands and feet to care for those whom the world would rather forget,” one told me.

Another said, “I’m a resilient person. My job is hard — I travel to places where I deal with health emergencies, and so I work all the time with people experiencing real trauma. I can deal with a lot of things — I usually just put my head down and think, ‘We’ll get through this; it can’t go on forever.’ But this feels different. I’ve never had my fundamental worth so questioned.”

What can a church do in a moment like this? Pastoral care, for one. Not only the one-on-one engagement with the pastors but also the strength that comes from belonging to a community of people who love you. That is the real help in a time of trouble. We need to be seen. We need to feel valued.

When authority figures question your worth and have the power to make you feel worthless, you need a community of people that affirms a truer narrative: “The work you do is amazing. You are amazing.”

Some of our church’s retired members are among those who now stand outside the gates of the CDC holding signs saying “We love the CDC” and “Protect Public Health.” Several people have mentioned how much this small gesture of support buoys their spirits.

Our finance team at church has a reserve fund ready to help members who lose their jobs pay their bills and rent. We are also quietly preparing for a loss of income if our CDC members are fired.

The Organizing Against Cruelty community gathering was a second kind of response, bringing people together to act. In the first few weeks of the new administration, many people expressed something like, “This feels terrible. What can I do?” Older adults especially may not be online and may not be plugged in to networks for action and activism.

At the gathering, we invited people to share resources with one another — one hungry person telling another hungry person where to find bread.

We talked about how to contact our legislators and what groups are active in our community. We set up breakout rooms for specific needs — support for transgender poeple, caring for immigrant neighbors — and a room for federal employees to share their experiences and talk without fear of recrimination.

While this role for the church, as a steward of the power of grassroots organizing, is important, there is another, perhaps paradoxical role the church can play: we can hold our human suffering as part of a larger story.

One of my CDC members said, “Lent always feels timely, but this year, my soul desperately needs it. Observing Lent helps prepare for loss, and the reminder that Christians have been marking this season through different crises and times of fear and change is welcome at this moment.

“We don’t have to do everything perfectly, but we do have to take care of each other, knowing we will all meet the same end that Jesus did on the cross.”

Not all suffering is redemptive, and the suffering of my congregants and other federal workers right now feels particularly unnecessary. But the church, when we are faithful, helps us understand that our suffering is woven into the great story of God’s love.

Our sensitivity to this suffering helps us be agents of healing. When I asked one CDC employee how she is holding up, she said, “It’s awful. … But I know that I am going to be fine.”

She told me about her volunteer service with a partner organization supporting refugee families and said, “There are so many people who are much more vulnerable in the face of this cruelty than I am. It’s them I’m worried about. I’m going to be taking care of them.”

Faced with declining membership, aged buildings and underutilized land, churches have been transitioning their property to new uses that help reach missional goals and reflect community needs.

As the housing crisis intensifies, houses of worship across the country are trying to better understand how they can help by building affordable housing on their property.

As a researcher, I’ve been studying how congregations build housing on their property for almost 20 years. I know that a development project is a large, time-consuming and expensive undertaking. Most faith leaders are not developers, and moving from a missional idea to a completed project can be confusing and overwhelming.

There are several phases to a faith-based property development project: discernment, predevelopment, development and construction, marketing and leasing, and operations.

Once you’ve completed the first step — discernment — it’s time for predevelopment. I want to focus on this phase, because it’s crucial and is not well understood by people without experience in planning and building.

Predevelopment is where the rubber starts to meet the road. In this phase, you will clarify your goals, process and cost, along with the scope of the work.

The predevelopment phase brings into focus the conceptual, schematic and design development of the project. It tells you how possible your project is in light of feasibility studies, financing projections and construction estimates. It’s the point when the budget is refined and you learn more about financing.

What are the steps to embarking on a faith-based property development project after discernment? What happens before the groundbreaking?

Owner’s representative

A development project is a collaborative affair between property owners, developers, architects, planners, engineers, surveyors, lawyers, financing professionals, contractors, construction crews and more.

One of the first things you’ll have to do is decide whether or not you would like to work with an owner’s representative (also known as an owner’s rep). It’s not necessary to have an owner’s rep, but it can be helpful in navigating the process.

An owner’s rep is a professional who can guide you, assist you in hiring firms to conduct studies, and make sense of the work that has been completed. This is someone who can advocate on behalf of the congregation. As your advocate and consultant, the owner’s rep has the best interests of your house of worship in mind.

There are specific firms that act as owner’s representatives and are generally paid on the back end of a development deal, taking a percentage of the total cost of the project.

Architect

The next thing you’ll want to do is think about hiring an architect. Architects play a strong role in the predevelopment process. This is where you talk about the purpose and function of the space, its features, the size of the rooms, the relationships to indoor and outdoor space, circulation through the building, and other needs. With an eye to the intended programming, an architect will produce a conceptual design.

The conceptual design will be a rendering of what the building could potentially look like, but keep in mind that the actual outcome will be affected by other factors, including zoning and design regulations, as well as financing.

Feasibility studies

Next you’ll need to conduct feasibility studies. These studies determine what can be built on the property and the state of the existing buildings, as well as neighborhood and community needs. They help guide the development and are crucial to finding the right developer.

Here are some of the studies, who does them, and what they are for:

• Real estate market study. This analysis provides a landscape of the market value of properties in the area. Real estate brokers, agents and consultants can do a real estate market study.
• Architectural engineering study. This study provides insight into the structural integrity of buildings. It includes an examination of the electrical and mechanical systems, as well as the architectural integrity of houses of worship. Such studies are conducted by building or architectural engineering firms.
• Land survey. This survey is concerned with the legal boundaries of properties and delineates property lines, maps all the buildings on the property, and confirms the elevation. There are several types of land surveys (zoning, construction, mortgage, subdivision, etc.), so it is best to ask a land surveyor which studies are needed for your project. A land surveyor typically does this work.
• Historic preservation study. The historical significance of older buildings can be a factor, especially if you are considering demolition or adaptive reuse. A historic preservation study aims to document buildings’ history, architectural significance and current condition. These can be done by nonprofit organizations or for-profit companies and consultancies that specialize in historic preservation work.
• Land use and zoning. A zoning analysis identifies what’s currently allowed on a property, including restrictions on building height and density. It also can let you know whether a zoning change is necessary. A land use planning consultant can help with these studies.

Cost estimates

At this point, you’ll clarify your project’s cost, potential eligibility for government programs and grants, and sources of financing. A typical affordable housing development can have multiple sources of capital that make up the financial stack.

It’s important to say that studies and consultants can cost thousands — even hundreds of thousands — of dollars. But keep in mind that they’re a necessary part of the process and, in some cases, might be required to get financial assistance. For example, if you’re applying for federal or state funding, real estate market studies will be required.

Some municipalities offer technical assistance and capacity-building programs to help with predevelopment work. Other organizations provide a cohort-based approach that includes technical assistance, peer support and access to professionals. These programs may come with some funding to complete studies.

St. Luke’s Episcopal Church in Seattle, Washington, for example, is constructing both affordable housing and market rate housing with space for the church. It received predevelopment funding from Trinity Wall Street’s Mission Real Estate Development program and the nonprofit Enterprise. While the congregation raised nearly $1 million, funding from Trinity’s program was essential to completing the studies.

Development takes time, patience and money. The predevelopment phase is the point in the process to construct networks with professionals and experts, ask questions, and build trust. It’s a time to gather as much information as possible, do research and make informed decisions before construction begins.

Predevelopment might seem daunting. But if your church has discerned that affordable housing is its mission, this is when you start to make that idea a reality.