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I keep coming back to the Greek word for hospitality: philoxenia—which translates specifically to loving the stranger. It’s not just an invitation to be polite; it’s an act of spiritual rebellion in a world that insists on drawing lines between us and doubling down on separation. It’s a powerful and radical practice that goes straight to the heart of our interconnection. And right now, with the world burning, with governments coming together to end whole people and starve children to death, with people being kidnapped and disappeared by those in power, philoxenia stands as the opposite of all of this—as Henry Nouwen reminded us, the opposite of xenophobia. Sacred hospitality is the antidote to fear, hatred, and division.

The weight of the multiple horrors we're witnessing right now is almost too heavy to bear. They are not just policy failures—this is a rejection of philoxenia, the rejection of hospitality, and the rejection of our shared humanity and Oneness. It is a slap in the face to the idea that we are one, that we are all reflections of the Divine. This is the opposite of love. It is the opposite of connection and kinship. It is a blatant spitting in the face of everything we believe in when we say we are all one, that God lives in all of us, that we are kin in the sacred dance of life.

Hospitality is a Spiritual Practice

To love the stranger, to invite the stranger into our lives, to hold space for the “other” as a guest, is a spiritual act that runs deep. It’s not just about offering food or shelter—it’s about recognizing the sacred in the person standing before us. It’s about seeing God in them, treating them as God. This is true in the Hindu tradition, where the stranger is known as a form of God, and it’s recognized and practiced in many spiritual teachings throughout the world.

Right now, the practice of hospitality is needed more than ever. We are living in a time where it feels like the soul of the world is gasping for air. We are witnessing the erosion of compassion, of humanity, of connection. There is no shortage of rhetoric that divides us, no lack of systems that encourage us to other people, to turn a blind eye to suffering. But the practice of hospitality invites us to remember our belonging to one another with eyes wide open. It calls us to remember that there is no “other.” That we are all kin, all connected, all reflections of the same Source. The Holy Blessed One lives in each of us, and to welcome another is to welcome God.

I can't think of a more urgent spiritual practice in this moment than hospitality. We are all being harmed by its lack, as a country, as a world, as a human family. And we don’t have to sit back and watch it unfold. You and I can do something. We can begin to deepen our practice of hospitality. We can start by welcoming the stranger—not just as someone who needs help, but as someone who is a guest, as someone who is sacred, as someone who carries the Divine with them.

Hospitality as a Revolutionary Act

Cornel West says, “Justice is what love looks like in public.” And if justice is what love looks like, then hospitality is the ground where love is made real. In this time of deep division, practicing hospitality is our stand for justice, our stand for love. It’s a public declaration that we are one—that we belong to each other, no matter our race, our culture, our immigration status, or our identity.

What does that look like, though? What does hospitality as a spiritual practice look like when we take it out into the streets, into our neighborhoods, into our homes, into the very heart of our lives? How can we make hospitality not just something we do, but something we live?

This is the question we must contend with this month. This is the challenge we face as spiritual beings on the planet right now.

Let’s Collect Evidence of God

What if we started to collect evidence of the Divine, not just in our quiet meditations, but in the faces of the people we meet, especially the ones we’re taught to fear, to ignore, to turn away from? What if we could turn our attention to the stranger—the one who is different from us, the immigrant, the trans woman, the unhoused person—and invite them in, not just as a charitable gesture, but as an embodiment of the Divine?

Let’s lean in with curiosity, get to know them. Let’s stop seeing them as other and start seeing them as kin and treating them that way. The more we do this, the more we will collect evidence of the Divine in the world. Every time we welcome the stranger, every time we open our hearts to someone who has been pushed to the margins, we are saying, God is here. We are making the invisible visible. We are proving, in real, tangible ways, that the Divine is not some far-off concept, but something that is living and breathing and moving through each of us.

Imagine if we could not only see the world through this lens but live this truth. Start with a simple step toward Sacred Hospitality: This month when you meet someone different from you, ask yourself, “How can I welcome you into my life? How can I honor the God that you carry with you?” This is one way true philoxenia looks like in action. This is how to begin the spiritual practice of hospitality—the practice of love made real in the world.

A Revolutionary Spiritual Practice

When we begin to see the Divine in everyone, we begin to change the world. When we practice hospitality, we practice oneness. We practice the truth that we are all connected. We practice justice. We practice love. It is a radical spiritual practice that has the power to change not just our hearts, but the very fabric of our society.

This month, I invite you to take this practice of hospitality out into the world. Begin by welcoming the stranger into your life. It doesn’t have to be grand. It doesn’t have to be perfect. But each time you welcome someone in—whether it’s a person on the street, a new neighbor, or someone who has been cast aside—you are making the invisible Divine visible. You are showing up for love. You are making a stand for justice. And that, my friends, is a revolution.

May this practice of hospitality deepen your connection to the Divine. May it move you into a greater sense of belonging to one another. And may it make love known more publicly because you have practiced it.