We have invited some 20 internationals over to celebrate an “American Fourth of July” picnic. The work of all this is being shared with some neighbors, Bruce and Judy Duncan.  I am bringing some of the food. The Duncans are opening their large and welcoming house. My husband is doing the inviting because he is the one who is cultivates friendships with tellers at the bank, with gas station and UPS store managers, and with our Korean cleaning folk. He learns names, countries of birth and creates daily friendships with each one.

Today, as we were picking up senior coffees from McDonald’s, we drove past the pay window. David laughed and said, “Oh, this is my favorite person at McDonald’s—Norita. Norita also works at the other McDonald’s in town.” During this explanation, Norita was occupied with taking another drive-up order and counting out our change. Nevertheless, she warmed immediately and flashed my husband a great big smile.

“Papa, everyone knows you,” said our grandson, Nathanael, who was running errands with his grandfather. They had walked into the bank and someone had called out, “Hi! Dr. Mains!”

“Don’t you know a lot of people like that?” David asked Nathanael. Our grandson said that he didn’t. His grandfather’s response: “Then, Nathanael, you’re not being friendly enough. People are all around us.”

So, Sandip and his family from India; Marie and her son from Mexico; Rahila, who is from Kenya with her husband, an African-American; David and Cecilia from Nigeria—20 of us in all—will be mixing the varied experiences of our birth nationalities to celebrate what is a uniquely American experience—the Fourth of July. We are, apart from the Indian Nations, a country of immigrants.

Through the years these are some of the things we have learned about the first-generation immigrants among us:

•    Amazingly, most of them have never been invited into an American home.

•    They are puzzled by the apparent insincerity of American greetings, such as “How are you?” In most of the countries from which these people come, that inquiry, which is casual to us, instead invites sincere information. “How are you? How is your mother? How is your father? Are your children doing well?” People stop and talk—they don’t hurry by each other, driven by intractable daily schedules.

•    Many Americans say, “We’ll have to get together sometime—” but never do. Hopes for social connection are raised but never met.

•    Meals for internationals are considered “events” with lots of food spread on large tables, hours spent with each other, a community of people invited who laugh, tell stories, dialogue and specialize in enjoying the occasion. Many internationals are puzzled, if not offended, by the American custom of eating and running.

The book of Romans, written when hospitality was a sacred act, understood to be so across most cultures at the time,  says this: “Welcome one another, therefore, just as Christ has welcomed you for the glory of God.” Romans 15:7, RSV.

It is interesting to me that in the New International Version, this is also translated, “Accept one another, then just as Christ accepted you, in order to bring praise to God.” In the New King James Version, the same verse reads, “Therefore, receive one another, just as Christ also received us, to the glory of God.”

Welcome, accept, receive—these are the essential attitudes we must have if we are to practice Christian hospitality.

Henri Nouwen writes in Reaching Out, “Hospitality, therefore, means primarily the creation of a free space where the stranger can enter and become friend instead of enemy. Hospitality is not to change people, but to offer them space where change can take place. … The paradox of hospitality is that it wants to create emptiness, not a fearful emptiness, but a friendly emptiness where strangers can enter and discover themselves as created free, free to sing their own songs, speak their own languages, dance their own dances, free also to leave and follow their own vocations. Hospitality is not a subtle invitation to adopt the life style of the host, but the gift of a chance for the guest to find his own.” What an appropriate prescription for extending hospitality to internationals.

So. Sandip, Mari, Rahila, Cecelia and David (and their families) are joining with the Mainses and the Duncans to share a quintessential American celebration—an Independence Day backyard picnic. This also seems to me to be a quintessential act of hospitality in which welcome, acceptance and reception are being extended to people of different nations. What a joyful event to look forward to!

Happy Fourth of July!


Karen Mains
KM1-14

Other projects involving Karen right now are: Working with teams of Christian women to design Retreats of Silence, in both 24-hours and three-days formats, through the aegis of Hungry Souls. Developing hospitality initiatives that train Christian men and women how to use their own homes in caring outreaches through the Open Heart, Open Home ministries. Launching the Global Bag Project, a worldwide effort that markets sustainable cloth shopping bags to provide sustainable incomes for bag-makers in developing nations. Researching the impact of listening groups while overseeing some 240 small groups over the last three years. Experimenting with teleconference mentoring for Wannabe (Better) Writers. Designing the Tales of the Kingdom Web site.

What is “Openhomeaphobia”?

Openhomeaphobia is the condition that keeps us from practicing Scriptural hospitality.

Here is the definition:

open-home-a-pho-bic (op-n-hom-a-fo-bik) Lat. phobicus; Gk. phobikos 1. Someone terrified to open his or her home to guests. 2. Someone filled with anxiety due to the overwhelming feelings that his or her home is not good enough for company, the rooms not large enough, the food not tasty enough. 3. Someone who panics at the thought of fitting hospitality into a schedule jammed with deadlines, timelines, and bottom lines.  Symptoms include: gagging at the word guest; uncontrollable urges to hide when the doorbell rings; sweats when the church bulletin pleads for people to include internationals for holiday meals.

The cure for openhomeaphobia is liberal and continual doses of the following mendicant. It’s from Romans 12:10-13—Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with God’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality.

You will know you are cured when you invite your neighbor over for a cup of coffee, hold a birthday party for a friend, throw a get-acquainted dinner for newcomers at church. If any residual symptoms develop, take a follow-up dose of 1 Peter 4:9. Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers a multitude of sins. Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling.

Karen Mains


Other projects involving Karen right now are: Working with teams of Christian women to design Retreats of Silence, in both 24-hours and three-days formats, through the aegis of Hungry Souls. Developing hospitality initiatives that train Christian men and women how to use their own homes in caring outreaches through the Open Heart, Open Home ministries. Launching the Global Bag Project, a worldwide effort that markets sustainable cloth shopping bags to provide sustainable incomes for bag-makers in developing nations. Researching the impact of listening groups while overseeing some 240 small groups over the last three years. Experimenting with teleconference mentoring for Wannabe (Better) Writers. Designing the Tales of the Kingdom Web site.

All that education may have gone to Christian women’s heads—and a good thing, too, but sometimes the lore that usually got passed along, as far as hospitality goes, has not gone to the kitchen. Many, who received their college degrees, their postgraduate degrees and their PhD’s, never learned how to get a company meal from the store to the table. Consequently, one of the great socializing tools of all time—inviting people into our home for an event that is not rushed, that allows us to savor good food and good conversation—is in danger of extinction!

Throughout the years of my life, I picked up training as a focus-group moderator and because hospitality is an important tool to me and because I think it is an essential (repeat, essential) spiritual practice, Mainstay Ministries ran about 16 focus groups attempting to determine why this was a languishing, if not dying, art in our country, in most regions, in our neighborhoods, in our churches, and in our families.

Here are the reasons, and most of our groups were composed of Christian women:

l.    Too busy. (This is the most frequently given excuse.)

2.    I don’t have enough energy.

3.    It’s expensive.

4.    I don’t know how to ___________ (set a table, prepare a company meal, make conversation, etc).

5.    I don’t know whom to invite.

6.    My house is too messy.

7.    It’s too much work!

8.    My mother was always uptight before company, and that gave me a bad taste for entertaining.

9.    With work (or school, single-parenting, etc.), I simply can’t manage any more.

10.    People just don’t invite folks over; I don’t even know my neighbors.

11.    I’d love to extend hospitality, but my spouse (or housemate or roommate) thinks a home should be a refuge from people.

12.    We don’t have enough room (or the right dishes, enough place settings, decent furniture, etc).

All good excuses, to be sure, but tragic in that one of the greatest cures for the human pandemic of spiritual homesickness—inviting people into our homes—is not being applied. Nothing helps us to get to know another human better than being welcomed into a home, sitting down at the table, eating well-prepared food, and sharing the laughter, stories, good ideas and learning that comes from unhurried conversation. Believe me, texting is not a substitute.

Perhaps without knowing it, we are all longing for a place at the table, for a home where we are safe and wanted. Jean Fleming writes of this beautifully in her book The Homesick Heart: “That I am homesick for a home I’ve never seen would be preposterous if I had no glimpse, no foretaste, of that home. The home I seek is not here, yet in the hearth fire and the freshly made bed I feel pangs of homesickness for a home beyond my experience. I can’t describe this home, but the seeds of recognition are planted within me.”

Perhaps one of the most exquisite portrayals of spiritual homesickness being assuaged is in the film Babette’s Feast. Here a shriveled and wizened little remnant of religious followers, turning critical and legalistic and aging ungracefully, are fed a celebration meal prepared by a master chef. No cost has been spared. The dishes and the graciousness are lavish. An outsider comes as guest to the table and he interprets—the names of the dishes, the wonders of the wine, the renown of the cook. Magic—or perhaps one might call it a miracle—happens. The old people are warmed in their creaking bodies. They lean across the table in love toward one another. They actually enjoy the beautifully-prepared food. Laughter curls around the elegant table settings. They leave the evening light-hearted, stepping brightly onto the cold stone pavements on this winter’s evening. Their arthritis and rheumatisms are forgotten. In the glimmering moonlight, they join hands and dance around the town well. It is a lovely picture, this cinematic preamble to homesickness with all its displacements assuaged.

“Like Adam we have all lost Paradise: and yet we carry around inside us in the form of a longing for, almost a memory of, a blessedness that is no more, or the dream of a blessedness that may someday be again.” —Frederich Buechner in The Magnificent Defeat

A tiny touch of Paradise visits each hospitable occasion in any home, wealthy or poor, where welcome is extended. I have known it over and over—our yearning for a home that is beyond this physical existence is satisfied for brief and shining moments. And whereas my guests often leave warmed, well-fed, happy, and with lighter hearts and tapping feet, it is I, the hostess, who is most blessed. Why don’t we do this more? I always ask whenever a guest leaves my door. It is wonderful to be connected in a way that is beyond the ordinary discussion groups, task forces, and study circles.

The excuses above are good excuses. But not good enough. They are the same as saying, “I’m too busy” or “It’s too much work” or “I don’t know how” to reach out and receive a check for $10,000. The practice of hospitality is so bountiful in its gifts, so filled with reminders of what Paradise was and what it will be, that we don’t dare let it grow rusty. Poverty—social poverty, inter-relational poverty—are always the results of a closed door and rusted hinges.

Invite a friend to dinner in your home. Invite several friends. See if something paradisal doesn’t happen. See if your spiritual homesickness isn’t assuaged.

Karen Mains


Other projects involving Karen right now are: Working with teams of Christian women to design Retreats of Silence, in both 24-hours and three-days formats, through the aegis of Hungry Souls. Developing hospitality initiatives that train Christian men and women how to use their own homes in caring outreaches through the Open Heart, Open Home ministries. Launching the Global Bag Project, a worldwide effort that markets sustainable cloth shopping bags to provide sustainable incomes for bag-makers in developing nations. Researching the impact of listening groups while overseeing some 240 small groups over the last three years. Experimenting with teleconference mentoring for Wannabe (Better) Writers. Designing the Tales of the Kingdom Web site.

This is a confession. Through much of my life I’ve been plunked into groups of Christian women, either as a speaker or a writer, and basically because I’m a closet eccentric, I really haven’t fit well with the do-gooding, behavior-monitoring, appearance-managing parameters conservative Christianity often imposes upon its feminine members.

However, renegade types of women often sniff me out. One friend once said to me, “You’re the most normal schizoid I’ve ever met!” Another, who had been homeless because she defied certain codes of the Southern society into which she married, and who subsisted on medications to keep her from reentering the psychiatric wards said to me, “Outwardly, you look like you’ve got it all pulled together, but inwardly you’re just like me. Right?”

She was right. She liked me because the first time my pastor husband and I brought her home for Sunday dinner and I asked when she was expecting her obviously soon-to-be-born baby, she said, “Well, the next time I commit adultery I’m going to write down the date.” I laughed a hearty belly-full Karen Mains laugh. The man she’d committed adultery with was a black man; at that time, in the late ‘60s, that radical act had precipitated her flight to exile in the North as well as a soon-to-be-anticipated divorce.

Christian women, particularly those of my age set, often bored me—especially when young mothers waxed long on poop tales of their toddlers or bloody evacuation stories of birthing. Once I spoke at a Christian college for faculty wives, and one of them took me aside and thanked me for choosing a topic that was “intelligent.” The subject of many faculty wives’ teas (at least in this college) had been the proprieties of tea-making and tea-serving, and being supportive helpmates to husbands—oh well, some of you may remember and catch the gist and understand why this gal was so grateful for a little intelligence dropped into a topic.

However, times, they are a-changing. I was born in 1943. World War II ended in 1945. The feminist movement that I remember, the Civil Rights Movement that I almost missed, free love—which still appalls me—the Vietnam War protests, which demonstrated to me the power of the people, and the counterculture revolution all swelled together in the 1960s and ‘70s—during my late teens and my early twenties. I was profoundly formed by all the dialogues these movements incited, and I am old enough to be aware of what a rare and remarkable time it is when a whole culture is forced into this kind of dialectic. It is remarkable because we begin to think, one way or another, but thoughts and counterarguments, and heated discussions force our brain neurons to fire.

Whatever has happened since those days—and I’m willing to accept that the biggest changes may be in my attitudes—but the Christian women I’m working with these days are nothing like those World War II babies who became gals who used to drive me to frustration. No, the female renegades are out of the closet! They’re an educated, thoughtful, savvy, well-read, confident, creative, risk-taking, boundary-pushing group of gals. If they had personal inner issues, they headed into counseling. If they wanted to grow spiritually, they found a spiritual director. They work on their marriages, if they are married; and if they are single, they travel the world.

I suppose not all conservative Christian women are like this but the ones I know are! Perhaps it’s a matter of like attracting like. For some reason, there is not a boring one in the bunch of gals I know. Quite amazing. My daughter is just finishing up her executive life-coaching training (two years of work and lots of money)—but my learning has been running a marathon to keep up with her learning. My daughter-in-laws also keep me stretching. I’ve had the privilege of sitting in one way or another—as an observer or a facilitator or sometimes as a participant—in some 250 Listening Groups. Here, three or four of us meet for 2.5 hours each month, under the discipline of a particular listening architecture, and we tell each other about our lives. We meet for seven to eight months. I have been party to the personal joys and agonies and struggles and aspirations of Christian women in a way I’ve never know before.

I sit in awe. I’m overwhelmed by the beauty of the human capacity. I am glad, finally, to be part of this sisterhood.

What will happen when the renegades of the world unite?

Karen Mains


Other projects involving Karen right now are: Working with teams of Christian women to design Retreats of Silence, in both 24-hours and three-days formats, through the aegis of Hungry Souls. Developing hospitality initiatives that train Christian men and women how to use their own homes in caring outreaches through the Open Heart, Open Home ministries. Launching the Global Bag Project, a worldwide effort that markets sustainable cloth shopping bags to provide sustainable incomes for bag-makers in developing nations. Researching the impact of listening groups while overseeing some 240 small groups over the last three years. Experimenting with teleconference mentoring for Wannabe (Better) Writers. Designing the Tales of the Kingdom Web site.

“Not all breads are created equal,” states a header from a Mayo Clinic newsletter. “Breads vary in their nutritional value.” Not that we don’t know this; but sometimes a low price or a specialty bakery item or a sweet tooth tempts us to wander from the truth.

Whole-wheat bread is the best. Made from whole-wheat flour, it is a good source of fiber that contains vitamins, minerals and phytonutrients. Wheat bread has the next-highest nutritional value, but it is enriched bread where some whole-wheat flour has been added, and contains smaller amounts of fiber and phytonutrients. White bread is enriched flour, and the nutrients it contains are additives.

Eating whole-grain breads or cereals may reduce the risk of colon cancer and other forms of cancer, lower cholesterol, decrease the chance of cardiovascular disease and diabetes and help relieve some menopausal symptoms.

It’s interesting, isn’t it, how Americans, the most overfed nation on Earth, are often still hungry after eating huge meals and after snacking in between meals. Scientists tell us this is because the body is not ingesting foods from which it can draw the nutrition it requires. Surprise! Junk food really is junk food. Eating food with fiber helps fill the stomach and gives people the needed bulk to keep the digestive system running smoothly.

In order to be healthy, we need to (among other things) learn to eat whole-wheat bread and buy cereals that are made from the whole grain. Experts recommend six to 11 servings of grain a day. One slice of whole-grain bread counts as one grain serving.

Christ said to His followers, “I am the bread of life. No one who comes after me will ever be hungry again” (John 6:35). This often is the spiritual “whole-wheat” bread that our famished souls lack. Nothing satisfies like the bread from heaven.

May I ask:  Exactly how are you feeding on Jesus?

Five years ago, I was designing teaching material for 160 young women in India who were preparing themselves for ministry. I asked myself, What can I give to them that will feed their eager spirits? Then one morning I turned to the Gospel of Luke and began to read again about the life of Christ. There was healthy oat, wheat, rye and multigrain flour for the soul indeed.

How are you feeding on the Bread of Life? Could you find time to read from one of the Gospels, one chapter each sitting? Chew your food slowly. Take notes. Savor the taste.

Perhaps you are a hungry soul because you have been snacking too much on white bread.

Your Christian Blogger,
Karen Mains

Other projects involving Karen right now are: Working with teams of Christian women to design Retreats of Silence, in both 24-hours and three-days formats, through the aegis of Hungry Souls. Developing hospitality initiatives that train Christian men and women how to use their own homes in caring outreaches through the Open Heart, Open Home ministries. Launching the Global Bag Project, a worldwide effort that markets sustainable cloth shopping bags to provide sustainable incomes for bag-makers in developing nations. Researching the impact of listening groups while overseeing some 240 small groups over the last three years. Experimenting with teleconference mentoring for wannabe (…better) writers. Designing the Tales of the Kingdom Web site.

One of the great malnutrition killers is the disease kwashiorkor. Infants and children who suffer from this condition have been starving for a long time. Kwashiorkor is basically a protein deficiency, though it can also be caused by a deficiency of one of several types of nutrients.

Adults can get by on a heavy starch diet for a while, but children must have protein for their growing bodies. A starving child has used up all the reserves of fat and muscle—the body actually cannibalizes itself for the sake of life. You’ve seen the news pictures and the appeal letters from groups that aid children in peril—spindly legs, bloated belly, dusty skin, black hair bleaching reddish. A starving child at this stage is beyond tears; it is waiting for death.

Dr. Paul Brand writes about being at the bedside of children in this near-terminal condition. He tells how they actually refuse food, turning their heads away from a spoon or glass of milk. In a hospital, the hunger patient can be given intravenous feedings, or a persistent helper can sit by the bedside dosing the child with minuscule portions until the swallowing reflex takes over. Dr Brand writes, “The reward comes when, almost suddenly, the child looks at you, and opens his own mouth for food. Appetite is coming back! A sense of hunger is awakening … life will return.”

Perhaps you are suffering from a case of spiritual kwashiorkor. It has been so long since any real food reached your soul that you are starving for nutrients.

The purpose of my Hungry Souls ministry is to pray for an awakening of your hunger. Soulish Food is a feeding program in the form of a biweekly e-newsletter. Bit by bit, I hold the morsel to your lips. Over time, spiritual mentors can become experts at the “drip method.” They know the Holy Spirit and are confident He can restore our appetite.

Don’t struggle. Don’t try to whip yourself into a feeding frenzy. Just rest. Just rest.

Hear these words whispered into your weariness (you can hardly lift your head): “Taste—just taste—of the goodness of the Lord.”

“Some wandered in desert wastelands. … They were hungry and thirsty, and their lives ebbed away. Then they cried out to the lord in their trouble, and he delivered them from their distress. … Let them give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds to men, for he satisfies the thirsty and fills the hungry with good things.”
(Psalm 107:4-9)

My prayer is that you will be satisfied, little one, that you will be able to sip, then swallow, then chew again. But for now, be still. Someone else is tending to the feeding.

Your Christian Blogger,
Karen Mains

Other projects involving Karen right now are: Working with teams of Christian women to design Retreats of Silence, in both 24-hours and three-days formats, through the aegis of Hungry Souls. Developing hospitality initiatives that train Christian men and women how to use their own homes in caring outreaches through the Open Heart, Open Home ministries. Launching the Global Bag Project, a worldwide effort that markets sustainable cloth shopping bags to provide sustainable incomes for bag-makers in developing nations. Researching the impact of listening groups while overseeing some 240 small groups over the last three years. Experimenting with teleconference mentoring for wannabe (…better) writers. Designing the Tales of the Kingdom Web site.

“Hunger is a wonderful thing … it gives us life. It’s the body built-in alarm that it’s time to eat. Hunger is what makes eating a pleasure. Without it, we could easily forget to eat; we might even starve to death.”
Dr. Paul Brand, The Forever Feast


When I was a young woman, someone remarked to me that no real spiritual growth could occur without a hunger for God. At that time, in my early thirties, I realized I wasn’t hungry—not for God, at any rate. And I was intellectually honest enough to know that this lack of desire, this nonchalant Christianity minus longing, put my soul in a precarious place.

So I began to pray, “Lord, give me hunger—”

Now at 67 years of age, I agree with that anonymous adviser from my past: Spiritual growth boils down to discovering a hunger so intense it propels us past our human ennui. We must become like infants howling for the breast. That kind of hunger is overwhelming. So must be the hunger that we seek, a starvation for God.

The American church suffers from information overload. So many spiritual resources are available to us, it’s like forced feedings. My father once tried to spoon oatmeal down me at the breakfast table. I did what any child would do: I resorted to a strategic defense. I vomited up the oatmeal.

We of the Western church are in a regurgitation mode, and none of the nutrients are reaching our souls. The big idea behind my ministry, Hungry Souls, is to take one growth emphasis, and slowly, slowly, over the course of a whole year, walk around it, touch it gingerly, kick it with a toe, push it, lean against it, decide it is safe, nestle into it and finally become hidden by it.

Growth, applied understanding, doesn’t happen overnight. It must be tenderly nourished. Truth must be heard over and over again. It must be tasted, tested, rolled on the tongue, chewed, then swallowed. And then it must be applied—absorbed into the blood.

We have to learn what it is to be spiritually hungry—really hungry. We have to challenge ourselves to consider for what we are truly starving. We have to shake ourselves and ask: Am I really hungry for God? Or am I longing for some replacement for God? Then we need to pray to develop an authentic craving, a soul-addiction that cannot be satisfied by any sugar substitutes. We have to become replete with soul fatness, to learn how to suck out the marrow of God’s nutrients.

And we must find companions to make their way with us to that feast. Intriguingly, the word companion comes from the Latin cum, meaning “with,” and panis, meaning “bread.” We want to be with companions at this Table. And we want to do more. We want to become hungry ourselves again; we want to dine; we want to rest satisfied, having fed richly at His Royal Spread.

Your Christian Blogger,
Karen Mains

“Lord, give me a hunger for yourself that cannot be sated by any other human thing.”
Thomas Merton

Other projects involving Karen right now are: Working with teams of Christian women to design Retreats of Silence, in both 24-hours and three-days formats, through the aegis of Hungry Souls. Developing hospitality initiatives that train Christian men and women how to use their own homes in caring outreaches through the Open Heart, Open Home ministries. Launching the Global Bag Project, a worldwide effort that markets sustainable cloth shopping bags to provide sustainable incomes for bag-makers in developing nations. Researching the impact of listening groups while overseeing some 240 small groups over the last three years. Experimenting with teleconference mentoring for wannabe (…better) writers. Designing the Tales of the Kingdom Web site.