"When we are homemakers, we are ourselves a home."

When our hearts are “home” for others, we offer living icons of the Church

As I write, the wind howls up my lane, it is pitch-black outside by 5pm, and the rain drives horizontal against my high, skylight windows. Days are certainly drawing shorter. In our rural village perched on the coast, I ‘feel’ the darkness and cold more than when I lived in a suburban, commuter town just months ago. It is interesting how remoteness affects our lived experience.

In our little community, Monday evenings have been for Alpha over the last seven or eight weeks. We are running a ‘pilot’ attended by parishioners (which amounts to around 50% of our congregation!).

I’ve therefore speedily had to become an expert in hosting 10-12 people in my small home every other week, at the end of a fast-paced day’s work.

(And, since it’s helpful to know how others cater midweek for crowds, here’s what I’ve served so far: chilli with sweet potato wedges, chicken korma with rice and naan, pumpkin soup with baguette, and (tonight, as I write this!) beef stew with crusty bread. Absolutely nothing fancy, although I always offer wine, which is always welcome when someone ventures out on a dark November evening.)

As I’ve seen people feel more at home in each other’s presence week after week, I’ve reflected on my own experience of growing into hospitality. It is almost exclusively wives and mothers who write (beautifully) about the experience of hospitality, but as a consecrated woman who lives alone, I see myself growing into this dimension of my vocation.

One of my favourite spiritual authors, Mother Mary Francis, writes,

Our Lady is a home where people are helped to be what they can be, to grow to the maturity for which God has destined them.

St. Edith Stein writes,

[S]piritual maternity is the core of a woman's soul. Wherever a woman functions authentically in this spirit of maternal pure love, Mary collaborates with her.

And Mother Mary Francis goes on to say,

When we are homemakers, we are ourselves a home. We must be all these things to one another: a lookout tower, a place of beauty, a refuge, a help, a strength and a consolation. …[To be a homemaker] is essentially the mission of the Church, the Bride of Christ. She is the home and the homemaker. She is the home for us all. Our Lady is essentially the first physical home of God himself, and always our home. We must strive to make a home for one another: a home of peace, of love, of worship, and of focus on God.

I love that there is no need for a special charism of hospitality, but rather a willingness for our person - not our home - to be “a place of beauty, a refuge” for others. Regardless of what our homes are like, in a certain way it is ourselves - me! - who is the “home”. Our hearts are the places of openness ready to receive, to accept, to love, to notice, to cherish. This is the special calling of every woman, not just those with large families or beautiful homes. To be a “home” to another is “the core of a woman’s soul” and the place we most authentically find ourselves.

And dark November nights seem to be the perfect time to offer ourselves, open our front doors, to be “strength” and “consolation” to our neighbours.