The Living Room Diplomacy of Homestay Programs
Each night, in living rooms across America, many of us watch the global news, hearing stories of conflict, and feeling a sense of helplessness. We don’t want the realpolitik of Washington, or the hostile voices of pundits, to narrate the world. Many of us genuinely want to respond to the Gospel of Peace by loving our global neighbors in tangible ways. We want to build bridges of friendship and contribute to shalom. However, it’s easy to feel helpless and assume we can’t do anything about these complex issues, especially since we are realtors, teachers, or landscapers, not diplomats? If you are like me, you often wonder if you can make any difference as you sit and watch the news from the comfort of your living room.
Over the past five years, I’ve come to believe that the living room is actually one of the best contexts for dialogue and diplomacy. In most university towns, there are international students from places like China, Saudi Arabia, India, and Japan who want to participate in American homestay programs. What’s a homestay program? It’s when an international student comes to stay with an American family while they study at a local university. It gives them a context to practice English and a home away from home while they navigate the complexities of a foreign land. As an added bonus, most homestay companies pay the host families quite well.
My family has hosted seven different international students, all from Arab countries. We even started a homestay company that lasted for a few years, because we came to believe that this is one of the most significant ways average people can participate in God’s global plan, and be blessed as peacemakers. Homestay might seem small and insignificant, but it can have a profound ripple effect to the ends of the earth. Here are seven ways the shoulder-to-shoulder diplomacy of a homestay program can contribute to global shalom.
Seven Ways Homestays Promote Global Shalom
- The home is the most intimate and authentic place for dialogue. There are many good ways to build relationships across cultures and religions, but breaking bread and sharing the same home provide a level of genuineness and depth that can’t be found in most dialogue events. We see each other’s personalities at 7:18pm as we tell stories over dinner. We encounter the beauty and the brokenness of the world as we embark on a Saturday afternoon hike together, or nervously watch the fractured world through the evening news. We see each other’s flaws as 6:42am as we grumpily wait for the coffee to brew and the toast to emerge.
Because we shared a home, I was able to see Abdul’s tears as he talked about missing his family in Saudi Arabia. He was able see my tears as I navigated my daughter’s autism diagnosis. I understood Islam not as a concept, but a faith, as I saw Hussein refrain from food and drink during Ramadan, even in the 110 degree temperatures of an Arizona summer. I’ve participated in many dialogue events, but the most profound discussions I’ve had with my Muslim neighbor, have happened in the juice-stained couches of my living room.
- Homestays show the difference between Christianity and Consumerism.
Many of our global neighbors see America and Christianity as synonymous. And while there are many syncretistic expressions of Gospel in our country, it’s vital that they see a difference between the religious devotion to consumerism in America, and the real beauty of the Gospel.
Mohammed, a student from Pakistan, once asked me to take him to the largest place of worship in our city. He was expecting me to take him to an immense and immaculate church, but was surprised when I brought him to a shopping mall. I explained that many Americans are devoted to “stuff” rather than God. We had a good laugh, but that experience made an impression on him. By spending the evenings in our homes, and the daytimes at the university, many students are able to discern a distinct difference between the Gospel, and the dizzying religion of consumerism.
- Living together is profoundly humanizing.
Life together is more powerful than any narrative that is articulated by a radio personality, and richer than all of the advertising dollars that fund the sensational stories we hear about the “other”. The ability to look into the crusty eyes of a Saudi roommate who just woke up and is getting ready for school, provides a more authentic, more human glimpse, into a country that seems dark and mysterious to many Americans. We realize that our roommates are people like us, who eat, drink, laugh, love, fear, and sing in the shower. I’ve seen stereotypes and fears unravel for both students and host families, as they learn to see the global “other” as a human, rather than a concept or a statistic.
- Homestays re-connect our hearts to world events.
One of the scariest features of the 21st century is our ability to see and hear about suffering and shrug our shoulders with indifference. We find ourselves entertained by video clips of bombs and bullets as we watch action movies and the evening news.
However, the presence of Iraqis in my home has reconnected my heart to the presence of Iraqis in the world. The reality of ISIS haunts me, compels me to pray, and has re-connected me to the historic Christian practice of lament, because my friends, those who have become family, are in danger.
Many homestay families have had this experience as well. I have often seen tears in the eyes of Brad and Sarah Cooper, a couple who has invited many international students into their home. I don’t know much about anatomy, but I know that the arteries of our heart are connected to the suffering of those we call friends.
Chris Rice and Emmanuel Katangole, in their book Reconciling All Things say, “The first language of the church in a deeply broken world is not strategy, but prayer. The journey of reconciliation is grounded in a call to see and encounter the rupture of this world so truthfully that we are literally slowed down…We are called to learn the anguished cry of lament.” By breaking bread and sharing a roof, we have made space for voices from Iraq, China, Pakistan, and India to narrate the nightly news. This has helped many host families recover the ability to cry and pray over global tragedy, rather than shrug and be entertained.
- Homestays have a ripple effect across the globe.
With over seven billion people in the world, it’s hard to image how seven months with an 18-year old kid can make any substantive impact on the world. However, homestays are pebbles that have the ripple effect of a boulder. Every international student is connected to a community of people who are waiting to hear stories about their time in America. Behind every bright-eyed Kuwaiti student, there’s a worrying mother, a concerned father, curious siblings, and jealous friends. All of these people will see America, and the Christians in this country, through the eyes of a single international student.
The potential for peace is affected in both positive and negative ways through the encounter internationals students have with Americans. Will they receive hospitality, or will they face isolation? Will they encounter an obsession with sex, violence and consumerism, or will they be received into a home that has marinated in the grace of the Gospel? The answer to this question will have a ripple effect across oceans and generations.
Sayyid Qutb was a founding member of the Muslim Brotherhood, and many believe, the one whose writings have inspired many of the extremist and violent ideologies adopted by groups like Al Qaeda. He was an international student at the University of Colorado, and points to his negative and lonely experience in the U.S. as formative to his ideology. I’ve often wondered what the world might be like if Qutb was welcomed into the home of the Hendricksons, the Ballards, the Coopers, or any of the other Christlike families who have opened their home to international students.
On the other hand, people like Kofi Annan (former Secretary General of the United Nations), Benazir Bhutto (former Prime Minister of Pakistan), J.K. Rowling (author of the Harry Potter series), and King Abdullah bin-al Hussein (King of Jordan) have all been shaped by their experience as international students. Many of us may never have a seat at the table in the places of power, but we can provide a seat at our kitchen table as we dialogue with future world leaders, currently concerned with passing a chemistry test.
- Homestays train children to be global citizens.
Some people hesitate to become a host family out of concern for their children. However, many homestay families have realized that this is a great opportunity to teach their children about the world. Cross-cultural experiences at a young age will shape children to respect and appreciate, rather than fear, their global neighbors. Furthermore, these cross-cultural experiences help train children to thrive in a global economy that includes interconnected trade, information technology, and international travel. They learn cultural intelligence that’s needed to thrive as workers and neighbors in a globalized world and participate in God’s redemptive plan.
- Living analogies.
Many aspects of our faith are quite beautiful, but difficult to explain, especially in light of cultural differences. The Trinity and the cross are come to mind as two of the most difficult things to explain across cultures. Both of these need to be proclaimed, but also need to be dramatized by the church to a watching world, and a homestay is a great context for this. The only time I’ve seen a Muslim come to understand the self-giving nature of Christ on the cross was when they experienced self-giving love from a follower of Christ. The cross is seen when Tim decided to leave his house for work at 5am so that he could be off by 3:00pm. He did this so that he could pick up his roommate from school, so he didn’t have to walk home in summer heat during Ramadan. Another example is when a host family listened to an international student share their concern about suffering in Palestine, and then decided to donate the money they made from homestays to alleviate some of that suffering. Furthermore, the Trinity isn’t understood by illustrations of ice and eggs, but by seeing living analogies of oneness, yet distinctiveness, through the strong marriages of host families, and the unity of eclectic people at the church they are a part of.
From the Living Room to Iraq
It was Abdullah’s last night in America, and we decided to celebrate our time together by sharing a meal at an Iraqi restaurant. He invited some of his Iraqi friends and I invited some friends from church. We thoroughly enjoyed the kebabs and the company as we reminisced about our time together, sharing memories and cultural blunders, while expressing how much we will miss each other.
After dinner, I proposed that we anonymously pay for another customer’s meal. He had seen me do this before, but this time he asked me why I frequently did this. I explained that it’s a practice that I do as a reminder of God’s grace. The act of paying for another person’s meal reminds me of the debt Jesus paid on my behalf, not based on my merit, but based on his grace. I could tell Abdullah was moved by this, and was reflecting on it.
The next day, we took him to the airport and he was greeted by a group of his Iraqi friends who were also returning home on the same flight. Within minutes of seeing them, he began to tell them about the previous night’s dinner, and eloquently articulating what I had told him about the grace of God. He was actually communicating the Gospel with beautiful nuance!
To this day, he still lives in a small, obscure, town in southern Iraq, a place where few people have ever met an American who wasn’t in camouflage. He’s still telling stories of meals, hikes, and museums, and the grace of God among a little obscure family in America. And I’m still telling stories about him to this day, about encountering common grace by sharing a common roof. As he handed his ticket to the flight attendant, a part of me boarded that plane and moved to Iraq, and as I drove home, I took a part of back to my living room in Tempe, AZ.
