Radical Hospitality for Reconciliation

In a time when the Church is often perceived as a place of judgment rather than grace, where boundaries are more visible than bridges, we must ask: What kind of table are we setting for the world? For many, walking into a church feels like crossing a barrier rather than entering a sanctuary. The message of righteousness is needed, but without hospitality, it becomes a sword rather than a shelter. What if the Church became a place not only of proclamation, but of invitation—where broken people, doubters, and even deniers are welcomed with warmth and grace?

John 21 gives us a powerful vision of such a Church. It is a scene we often read quickly or interpret narrowly. The focus tends to land on Peter—his threefold denial and his subsequent threefold affirmation of love. While this personal restoration is central, there is a deeper, corporate truth in the passage that deserves more attention. The disciples as a group had betrayed, abandoned, and denied Jesus. And yet, the risen Christ does not greet them with rebuke. Instead, he prepares a meal. He says, “Come and have breakfast.” This is radical hospitality for reconciliation—a table prepared not for the faithful, but for the failed. And through this humble act, Jesus shows the Church how to minister in a broken and skeptical world.

Jesus Prepares a Table for His Betrayers

The setting in John 21 is intimate and quiet: a charcoal fire, fish on the grill, and bread ready to be shared. The disciples had returned to fishing after the resurrection, unsure of their future. Then Jesus appears on the shore and invites them to eat. This is not a simple breakfast; it is a theological event. These men had been with Jesus for three years. They had heard his teaching, seen his miracles, and promised loyalty. Yet when the hour of suffering came, they ran. Peter denied him three times. Others fled in fear. Their betrayal is often overlooked in sermons and commentaries, but it is a vital part of this narrative.

Jesus could have justly rebuked them. He could have abandoned them as they abandoned him. But he does the opposite. He initiates restoration by preparing a meal. This is grace incarnate. The God who was denied by his closest friends is the same God who now feeds them. The invitation to “Come and eat” is not only about nourishment—it is a profound act of reconciliation.

This moment echoes the character of God throughout Scripture. God is the one who welcomes the wayward, feeds the hungry, and calls sinners to the table. The meal Jesus prepares is an extension of divine hospitality. It is not earned, nor deserved—it is offered freely to restore what was broken.

Hospitality as the Pathway to Reconciliation

The focus on Peter’s threefold question, “Do you love me?” (John 21:15–17), is important, but it must be read within the context of this wider act of hospitality. The restoration of Peter happens in the space that hospitality has created. Jesus feeds Peter before he questions him. Grace precedes restoration.

Hospitality becomes the environment for reconciliation. As Henri Nouwen once wrote, “Hospitality is not to change people, but to offer them space where change can take place.” Jesus does not coerce Peter or the others into repentance. He invites them into fellowship, and it is within that sacred space that hearts are softened, confessions are made, and new commissions are given. This hospitality is radical because it is extended to the very ones who failed. It is not extended from a distance, but through shared bread and presence. Jesus, who has the authority to judge, chooses instead to serve.

What Does This Mean for the Church Today?

The implications of this story for Christians and churches are profound. If Jesus—our Lord and Savior—offers this kind of radical hospitality to those who betrayed him, how much more should we offer hospitality to others? The Church is not Jesus. We do not occupy divine status. We are not the judge of sinners, but the community of the forgiven. We offer welcome not as superior beings extending pity to inferiors, but as fellow recipients of mercy obeying the way of Christ.

The Church’s mission must include not only the proclamation of truth but the embodiment of welcome. Too often, churches are seen as institutions that judge rather than serve, that set barriers rather than prepare tables. The hospitality of the Church should never feel condescending, as though we are giving something from a position of power. Instead, we offer it in humility, with gentleness, because Christ first welcomed us.

Radical hospitality is not about making the Church comfortable for everyone. It is about lowering the threshold of entry without lowering the standard of truth. It is about making the invitation to reconciliation visible and tangible—through presence, relationship, and welcome. We are called to offer a space for reconciliation, trusting that the Holy Spirit will carry out the work of healing and restoration. However, when we attempt to assume the role that belongs to the Spirit, complications inevitably follow. Impatience, pride, and misunderstanding begin to take root, hindering the Spirit’s redemptive work.

As Paul reminds us, “All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation” (2 Cor. 5:18, NIV). Reconciliation is not an abstract doctrine—it is a lived practice. And hospitality is one of its primary expressions.

The Threshold Must Be Lowered

In today's cultural climate, where many view the Church as exclusive, harsh, or disconnected, the practice of radical hospitality is more urgent than ever. Hospitality does not mean the absence of boundaries, but it does mean that the Church must be accessible to sinners—because all of us are.

The Church should be known not only as a place where righteousness is taught but as a place where broken people are embraced. A place where questions can be asked, where pasts can be brought into the light, and where healing can begin. This is not to undermine holiness, but to mirror the love of Jesus, who washed the feet of the one who would betray him and then prepared breakfast for the one who denied him.

Conclusion

John 21 is not merely the story of Peter’s redemption—it is the story of a community restored by grace. Jesus prepares a meal not for heroes, but for betrayers. And in doing so, he offers the Church a model for ministry that is as countercultural as it is Christlike.

We are called to follow this example—not offering hospitality as the divine host, but as humble servants of the One who invites all to his table. As the Church, we must say with our actions what Jesus said with his breakfast: Come and eat. Come and be restored. Come and meet the God who forgives.

Reflection Questions

  1. How has your church practiced (or neglected) hospitality toward those who have failed or doubted?

  2. In what ways can you create spaces—physical or relational—where unbelievers feel genuinely welcomed?

  3. What does it mean for your community to embody the hospitality of Jesus without assuming a position of superiority?

J.D. Kim