When in Rome… : A Reflection on Abba Motius 1

One of the most interesting aspects of biblical ethics is the tremendous importance it places on hospitality. We see it in such incidents as Abraham and Sarah hosting the three angels, the story of Sodom and Gomorrah, and the Shunammite widow’s hospitality to Elijah (2 Kings 4), and in the Law commanding Israel to treat non-Israelites living in their territories well: “When a foreigner is with you in your land, you must not oppress him. You will regard the foreigner who resides with you as the native-born among you” (Leviticus 19:33). Hospitality plays a significant role in the New Testament as well, with Jesus commanding his followers to offer hospitality to those who cannot reciprocate (Luke 14.12-14), taking the common hospitable act of foot-washing as a metaphor for Christian service and mutual submission in love, and in Hebrews’ exhortation not to neglect “hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it” (Hebrew 13.2). From a larger cultural point of view, the Scriptures come by this honestly, for hospitality was an important value throughout the Ancient Near East and Mediterranean worlds. For most of us in the West, the best example that comes to mind is how often hospitality, or the lack thereof, drives the plot in Homer and Greek myths. In Greek, hospitality went by the technical term philoxenia, or ‘the love of strangers’. What’s often lost to us today, however, is that in these ancient cultures, philoxenia was as much about being a good guest as it was being a good host. In yesterday’s post, we looked at the first side of the coin of the intersection between hospitality and sacred practices. There, an unnamed Abba set aside his fasting discipline in order to welcome John Cassian and Germanus with a nice meal. Today, we see the flip-side of the coin, a story about how to be a good guest.

The story goes like this:

A brother questioned Abba Motius, saying, ‘If I go to live in a foreign place, how do you want me to live?’ The elder said to him, ‘If you live somewhere, do not seek to be known for anything special; do not say, for example, “I do not go to Sunday worship;” or perhaps, “I do not eat at the common meal.” For these things make an empty reputation and later you will be troubled because of this. For men rush there where they find these practices.’ The brother said to him, ‘What shall I do, then?’ The elder said, ‘Wherever you live, follow the same manner of life as everyone else and if you see devout men whom you trust doing something, do the same and you will be at peace. For this is humility: to see yourself to be the same as the rest. When men see you do not go beyond the limits, they will consider you to be the same as everyone else and no-one will trouble you.’ (Abba Motius 1)

Abba Motius makes a few important points here about being a good ‘outsider’. First, the goal is never to set yourself apart from others. You will be different simply by virtue of being new to the community, you don’t need to make a point of it. But Motius’s justification is wise in surprising ways: It isn’t just for the sake of your own humility (important as that is), but also for the good of the group showing you hospitality Humans being humans, there’s always some cachet in doing more, bigger, and better. If the practice you’re used to is stricter than what others are doing, making a big deal about it may stir the pot in unhelpful ways and entice some to break their community norms in order to be stricter; conversely, if your practice is less strict, making a point of it may inflate some egos within your new community. Again, when it comes to sacred practices, there is no right or wrong way. You’re not ‘sinning’ by joining local practice, whether it’s more or less extreme  than what you’re used to. So join in and try to belong. This is the second point Motius makes: When it comes to differences in practice, think about the impact your behaviour is going to have not just on your own spiritual health, but also that of the community welcoming you. Third, hearkening back to the teaching on humility we looked at a few days ago, it’s about thinking of yourself less, about not setting yourself apart. The best advice is simply to find someone in the community whose practice you respect and do whatever they do.

This teaching is another version of the old saying “When in Rome, do as the Romans do.” As it happens, this proverb has its origins in a story just like this, attributed to St. Ambrose of Milan in conversation with a young St. Augustine and his mother St. Monica. In that story, Monica and Augustine are about to visit Rome but were unsure what to do because they’d heard that the Church in Rome observed Saturday as a fast day, which was different from their local custom in Milan. Asking their bishop, Ambrose, about this, he said, “When I am here in Milan, I do not fast on Saturday; when in Rome, I do fast on Saturday.”

What I appreciate about this saying from Abba Motius, though, is that it provides more context for why this is an important part of receiving hospitality well. Being in community means that we are no longer free agents; we have responsibilities towards others by virtue of being in relationship with them. And whether we are welcoming others into our own communities, or acting as guests in other communities, it’s important for us to remember that.