Voices: ‘Intellectual hospitality’ and why it matters

In my last opinion piece, I mentioned a concept—intellectual hospitality—that might be unfamiliar to some readers. I want to unpack the concept here and explain why I think it is relevant for our current political, social, theological, and evangelistic context.

Defining intellectual hospitality

Intellectual hospitality has been used by a wide range of writers to describe a disposition that welcomes others into our own mental and spiritual world. Such a disposition looks upon the narratives, questions, and convictions of others with openness and curiosity rather than suspicion and fear.

It recognizes we will disagree with the ways others interpret their experiences and construct their mental frameworks, but it sees these disagreements as opportunities to learn and grow.

To be clear, I use the term in an informal way, not intending to endorse or disavow the ways more disciplined writers construe this kind of hospitality. Nevertheless, I think the concept could be a helpful one as we try to engage a pluralistic society in a more wholesome and productive manner.

The utility of intellectual hospitality

The roots of my interest in intellectual hospitality run deep. I grew up as a culture warrior, but I also grew up with a temper and with a painful awareness my anger over political and moral issues put a strain on my relationships.

I knew I needed better models for handling conflict than I had, but I also knew I needed an intellectually defensible framework for guiding my conduct in public discourse.

So many people in my family and church took a combative approach to disagreement, and doing something different would bring me into conflict with these early shapers of my identity.

Many people in the same situation turn to civility as a descriptor of healthy public discourse, and it is not hard to understand why.

In his book Love Your Enemies, as well as in his Trinity Forum lectures, Harvard University economist Arthur Brooks argues civility is too low a standard for the Christian. For Brooks, treating others with anything less than the love Jesus demands is a betrayal of our faith and a danger to democracy.

I admit, sometimes Brooks rubs me the wrong way. Sometimes, I just want to give full vent to the rage that, in my own mind, is so well-deserved, and I don’t want some do-gooder egghead looking over my shoulder and judging my every word.

But whether I like it or not, Brooks is right. Even in the arena of intellectual combat, we are called to live out the high calling of God. Just as material hospitality has always been an essential part of the Christian ethic, so also welcoming the intellectual stranger and treating them the way we would want to be treated should be second nature to us.

Defending intellectual hospitality

Can we defend such a posture theologically? After all, as I observed in my last essay, Jesus’ rhetoric was often harsh by modern standards, and Paul could get pretty salty, too (see, for example, Galatians 3:1; 5:12).

Moreover, Brooks does not adequately address those instances where a person, an institution, or an ideology is completely eaten up with evil, and 2 Peter and 1 John are just two of the biblical books that condemn in the strongest terms those who distort the Christian faith.

Nevertheless, I am convinced we can defend the practice of intellectual hospitality on theological grounds.

First, all humans are created in the image of God. This means, among other things, all humans have the intellectual, emotional, and spiritual capacities to relate to God and to other people, to think critically about issues of importance, and to evaluate differing alternatives in terms of their conformity to the standards of righteousness and justice.

Doubtless, these capacities vary widely from person to person, which is why we must always practice discernment, a skill the Bible repeatedly recommends. Nevertheless, the fact God has made us in his image also means we are meant to figure out life together. We cannot do that if we do not listen to one another.

Second, humility is one of the most important virtues we can cultivate. In the intellectual arena, humility does not mean denying our own giftedness or de-emphasizing our own convictions. Sometimes, we are right, and retreating from what we know to be true only hurts our witness for Christ and our participation in the democratic process.

Rather, humility means properly assessing our knowledge vis-à-vis those with whom we are in dialogue. It means recognizing we are not the final authority in all truth, and our story is not the paradigmatic story for every human on earth.

Humility means being open to the expertise of others. It also means being sympathetic with their experiences as they describe their journey through a fallen and confusing world.

Intellectual habits matter

If you find all this talk about respecting others and listening with curiosity a little off-putting, please understand, I get where you are coming from.

Moreover, as a South African friend of mine observed more than 25 years ago, we Americans can be a little too sensitive to criticism and a little too quick to condemn good-faith efforts at constructive feedback.

Furthermore, I have some misgivings about my role in promoting intellectual hospitality. Those who know me well know I am not even close to a perfect representative of what I promote. There are still instances where my frustrations with those who can’t seem to “get with the program,” from my point of view, boil over.

Still, I am convinced we need a new approach to bearing witness in the public square. Whether we have access to the most influential platforms available in our society or only have the ear of those we love the most, we can all examine the habits that form our discourse.

Doing so will push some of us to be more courageous in speaking on behalf of the truth, but my guess is, some of us will need to recalibrate how we come to terms with and respond to disagreement. And some of us may even need to decide ahead of time that we are going to talk less and listen more.

The radical pluralism that characterizes our society and the substantive disagreements it produces do not mitigate the need for intellectual hospitality. They intensify that need.

We cannot afford to expend precious political and relational capital on things that do not matter. People need to know, when we clinch our fists and angrily demand action, it is for a good reason.

Most of all, we need to rebuild the trust our neighbors once had for those most publicly devoted to Christ, reminding them we really are committed to pursuing the truth and promoting the welfare of all.

Wade Berry is pastor of Second Baptist Church in Ranger and has been resident fellow in New Testament and Greek at B.H. Carroll Theological Seminary. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.