The humanity of hospitality | Carl R Trueman

PRinceton Professor Robert P. George recently brought to my attention a trivial but symbolic incident in which a flight attendant wished a passenger a “blessed” night. Unfortunately, the recipient of these kind words was a member of America’s progressive officer class, who responded with predictable indignation. Clara Jeffery, Editor of Progressive Magazine Mother JonesShe was so traumatized by this verbal attack that she reached out to X to express outrage at the “creeping Christian nationalism” that this unwanted blessing represented.

She has since deleted the post and has been both mocked and defended online. While Professor George saw the tantrum as further evidence of progressive condescension and contempt for the working class, others resorted to the evocative clichés of critical theory that magically obviate the need for thoughtful engagement with anything outside the acceptable progressive frame of reference. You simply cannot have a dialogue with such people because any attempt to do so is viewed as a manipulative (albeit unintentional) attempt to reinforce the values ​​of an inherently unjust system. “Shut up and listen!” is the standard progressive response.

What’s fascinating is that the incident actually points to a real danger to society. But it’s not the one Jeffery identified. The threat is not Christian nationalism or Christian privilege. Rather, it is cynicism that is increasingly shaping American culture. Expressive individualism places people and their wishes at the center of life. At its core, therefore, it contains the tendency to view others instrumentally: Will this person help or hinder my personal happiness? And over time this tends to see others as adversaries: that person is primarily a potential problem, an oppressor, until they prove otherwise.

This is in large part why the various iterations of Critical Theory have resonated so positively with those who have never read a page of the books that represent its intellectual architecture. It is not the arguments but the ethos of critical theory that makes it so powerful. In an age devoted to the cynicism that represents the existential end of expressive individualism, it is easy to believe that power and manipulation lie behind everything, even the most innocuous and well-intentioned greeting. And when some of the primary means of human interaction—X, for example—incentivize name-calling and normalize insults as the default, they reinforce this cynicism. There is a warning for Christians here: using media that tends to objectify others risks admitting a vision of humanity that is profoundly un-Christian.

Without control, the situation can only get worse. And that begs the question: Can society survive such a cynical understanding of human interaction? When kind words that acknowledge another’s humanity can be dismissed as part of an evil and manipulative power structure, one has to wonder if we are trapped in a world so cynical that we have no vocabulary or speech acts that could enable us to treat others as human beings.

The London Review of Books offers another expression of cynicism toward human interaction, albeit in a much more sophisticated way than Jeffery and her allies. In a recent review of Jacques Derrida’s work on hospitality, Jonathan Rée summarizes part of the argument as follows:

Imagine the classic welcoming scene where a host invites you in with greetings, a smile, and open arms. The gestures may be a sincere expression of friendship, but they are also, inevitably, an insidious assertion of privilege: This is my place, they say, and even when I tell you to make yourself at home, you must remember that they are to my suffering here.

This is where the cynicism of the postmodern condition comes to the fore. Kindness toward others in the form of hospitality becomes another power play, another way to place someone below us in the hierarchy and assert superiority. Nietzsche for victory.

This is not just a deeply cynical view of hospitality; it is also one that denies human experience. Anyone who has ever been alone in a strange city and been invited to someone’s house for dinner will probably not have found this manipulative, but rather liberating. The reason is simple: the reality of being treated as a person and not a thing is always liberating. This is certainly why hospitality is a key element of many religions. When I invite people into my home, I recognize their humanity and personality. When I wish them a blessed day, I do the same.

My own religious tradition, Reformed Protestantism, famously adheres to the doctrine of total depravity, which holds that no aspect of human nature is untouched by sin. This is often misinterpreted to mean that all humans are completely evil. In fact, it makes a much more modest claim: that all our actions fall somewhat short of what they should be and are characterized by selfishness. Even hospitality. Therefore, I would attribute some truth to Derrida’s claims. But here lies the difference with Derrida and his ilk: they are so fascinated by manipulative discourses that they leave little or no room for the humanity of hospitality. It’s just another cynical gesture. In contrast, Christianity gives pride of place to hospitality because it is a practical realization of the character of God and a practical recognition of the humanity of others. This is one of the reasons Paul makes it a qualification for the office of elder in the church. Christians should treat others as persons, as subjects, not as things or objects. And hospitality is an obvious way to achieve this.

The infantile rants of Clara Jeffery and others reveal the deep commitment to a dehumanized view of humanity and human interaction that permeates much of today’s society. That’s the real existential threat to civilization, not flight attendants acknowledging passengers’ humanity by wishing them well in the language of blessing. Tantrums in the first world over such things just show how low the barrier to claiming victimhood has fallen in our society. But this presents Christians with a double challenge. First, we must not adhere to the rules of the postmodern game, in which everything is reduced to power and manipulation. Second, we can do this by showing hospitality to others. Cynicism cannot be defeated by arguments, let alone more cynicism. It can only be defeated through actions, actions that value what it means to be human, of which hospitality is a fine example.

Carl Trueman is a professor of biblical and religious studies at Grove City College and a fellow at the Ethics and Public Policy Center.

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Image courtesy of Valentin Angel Fernandez. Image cropped.