A Critique of Industrial Hospitality - by Keturah Hickman

A Critique of Industrial Hospitality

The Blueprint for Spontaneous Hospitality

Keturah Hickman

Mar 24, 2026

The Hospitality Business

After Christmas, my husband and I went to Delaware because even though it’s the first American state — it’s the one you never hear about. We wanted to show our daughter the ocean.

We had no destination in mind and had made no reservations. We stopped once we reached a hotel on the beach, then we walked across the sand to dip our daughter’s tiny toes into the frigid waves. She was nonplussed, so we went to the front desk.

The woman at the front desk scrutinized us. I wore a head-covering, a long dress, and the baby in a woven purple and green wrap. Andy was dressed like a respectable hobo from the depression era. We both were at least thirty years younger than anyone else currently vacationing here, and the only ones not wearing black, grey, and beige.

“Do you have a reservation,” the woman asked.

We didn’t. She went to see if there were any rooms available, a little bit flustered that we hadn’t made any reservations. Perhaps we’d have to settle for a stable, but this hotel was large and there were few guests meandering about.

Can we get a room with a view of the sea?” my husband asked. We hardly splurged for “normie” things. But when we did, we liked to do it right.

She eyed us once more, as if doubtful we could afford it. She said as much, and my husband said, “It’s worth it.”

We were paying guests, so we got a key card despite her glances. However, I had the feeling that we were “bad for business”. The woman was short with us. I overheard her help the guests after us — a normal middle-classed elderly couple who looked like they wanted a divorce. She offered them more information about the layout of the hotel, breakfast, and the lobby.

My husband noticed none of this. He was in a hurry to see the view we’d paid for. We deposited our things on the bed, then took the baby out on our private balcony and watched the waves roll in.

“Why wouldn’t you pay for this?” my husband said.

That evening we ate at the hotel restaurant, sitting at a window facing the sea. Once more we felt out of place, surrounded by retired couples who were here because they had no time to vacation elsewhere. A few eyed our baby anxiously, then ignored us with relief once they realized we had one of the few quiet babies who wouldn’t disrupt the peace.

Breakfast, too, was much the same. My husband noted how odd it was that nobody else seemed to care for the best seats next to the window. Everyone ate sitting far apart. Although we were all staying at the same place, nobody seemed to care to get to know one another even as we were standing in the buffet line.

We stayed a couple days, enjoying the scenery but hardly interacting with others except on a surface level. When we checked out, we were bid farewell with a plastered smile.

“We hope you enjoyed your stay! Visit us again.”

Knowing we probably wouldn’t return, we said, “Thank you. It was lovely.

This experience of industrial hospitality wasn’t foreign to us, but something about this particular stay made us realize that we were truly not living in the same world as those around us.

Marketing Virtue

Growing up my family regularly invited strangers to live with us ( families, immigrants, the homeless, hitchhikers) with no strings attached. As a child I didn’t mind giving up my room or being a little extra crowded if it meant new faces in the home. My siblings and I all had a sincere love for the stranger.

Even so, I didn’t begin to understand hospitality as a Christian practice until my mid-twenties. I threw myself fully into looking for opportunities to share my home with others and began writing on spontaneous hospitality.

At the start, I loved talking about the joys of practicing hospitality and I would tell anyone I met. A few got it. Some would glitch out, or think I was talking about tea-parties. Many would respond, “Me too! I have my bachelors in hospitality management and worked in the industry for several years.”

There’s nothing wrong with industrial hospitality if you’re in need of a hotel. The problem that’s arisen is most people no longer understand organic, spontaneous hospitality. Even many Christians believe they must model hospitality after industrial hospitality, or worse yet, they’ll shirk their responsibility by directing guests to stay at a hotel instead of their home. I believe this has caused much spiritual damage to the Church. Certainly, allowing industrial hospitality to influence and reshape hospitality has not been good for our souls.

This has led to two types of hospitality:

Industrial hospitality: friendliness to the wealthy / luxury comfort / entertainment / monetary reward for the host / memorable experience / a customer to be up-charged / globally fungible

Christian hospitality: friendliness to the stranger/ necessary comfort / encouragement / spiritual reward for the host / gospel experience / a guest to be received with unconditional love / locally unique

The market has done such a great job monopolizing virtue that it’s easy to conflate Christian and industrial hospitality. However, hospitality was not always a mere commodity to be purchased and up-charged, but basic Christian charity. The moment we started selling hospitality is the moment we stopped believing in it.

Industrial hospitality has made us believe that what we have to offer is inadequate because our homes may not be clean enough or are too crowded or we don’t have luxurious experience to offer. Or maybe we believe we aren’t called to be hospitable anymore because it’s too dangerous or we might be taken advantage of.

Unlike a hotel or resort experience, authentic Christian hospitality is open and friendly to the stranger despite their appearances. Industrial hospitality profits from the respectable looking stranger. But Christian hospitality welcomes everyone as they are.

This difference between industrial and Christian hospitality is extremely important because it is one of the main ways we get to live the gospel out in our everyday lives:

Hebrews 13:2: “Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.”
1 Peter 4:9: “Use hospitality one to another without grudging.”
Leviticus 19:34: “But the stranger that dwelleth with you shall be unto you as one born among you, and thou shalt love him as thyself; for ye were strangers in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God.”
1 Timothy 5:10: “Well reported of for good works; if she have brought up children, if she have lodged strangers, if she have washed the saints’ feet, if she have relieved the afflicted, if she have diligently followed every good work.”
Matthew 25:35: “For I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in.”

In my early twenties, I’d stayed at my first resort for a conference with a gala at the end. We dressed in formal attire and were served by waiters in bow-ties who brought us gourmet food on silver trays. It reminded me a little of aristocratic nobility, and although it made me feel fancy, I was a little uncomfortable being a part of this system that relied upon the labor of “slaves”, even if they were paid.

Who was I to be waited on hand and foot?

And yet, I liked it. I couldn’t help it. I had a nice bed to sleep in that I didn’t have to make. I had a room to stay in that I didn’t have to clean. I could walk on nice floors and carpets without worry of ruining them because they weren’t mine to worry about. I could sit at a table that I didn’t prepare and eat food I hadn’t cooked.

It made me feel like a queen with make-believe servants. It didn’t make me feel very Christian.

If Jesus were here, I thought, He’d tell everyone to sit down and eat together, staff or slave or guest. We’d do away with all this frivolous, industrial hospitality and get down to authentic, spontaneous hospitality. Now I can imagine someone like St. Francis getting up from the table, stripping himself of his fine clothes, and leaving the room quietly to help serve the food and wash the dishes, refusing to eat anything except the scraps.

Five Ways The Hotel Business Influenced Christian Hospitality

  1. Options

Industrial hospitality is designed to profit from the stranger’s need or misfortune. Christian hospitality is centered around unconditional love and generosity. This difference creates a marketing opportunity to up-charge customers for additional comforts, some of which we now take for granted as necessary features of hospitality.

In the past, Christian hospitality was sufficient because everything was enough. Once even commercial hospitality was fashioned after Christian hospitality. Inns were known to sleep six to a bed, or as many as would fit, and would make only one pot of soup — everyone brought their own dish and ate to their fill. You got what you got, nothing more, nothing less. The host, too, would eat with you and tell stories of others who had traveled through.

However, the industry of hospitality with the advent of modern conveniences, commercialism, and excess has created extras. These are not necessary features of hospitality, but tools for raising the bill. Nevertheless, ordinary people are nervous to open their homes because they have been led to believe that they should offer more than what they have.

Whatever bed (or couch or floor space) you have is adequate. Whatever you are making for dinner is enough. Christian hospitality doesn’t require you to bend over backwards and do party tricks, but keep your door cracked and your hands open.

  1. Reservations

Reservations are necessary to industrial hospitality, and without them, a business might lose profits. Even if they have vacancies, many hotels prefer for guests to book their stay days ahead. They are annoyed by same-day reservations.

Christian hospitality is spontaneous. The Good Samaritan didn’t check his calendar before helping the wounded man. Hospitable Christians don’t ask to be called or texted first because true hospitality understands that when someone has needs — be they physical, emotional, or spiritual — those needs must be met immediately with no regard to social norms, clocks, or schedules.

  1. Sterility

Industrial hospitality is concerned with reviews because this determines future profits. Hospitable Christians are concerned only with being available. Industrial hospitality puts up a facade of perfection, and expects you to do the same. However, a hospitable Christian invites the guest to come as they are, because the host is not putting on a performance.

Yes, cleanliness is next to godliness, so hopefully a one’s home isn’t caked in grime. However, things don’t need to be perfectly cleaned before one welcomes guests inside. If there is crayon on the wall and a few bread crumbs scattered here and there, so be it. Even if the home is in complete disarray, hospitable Christians should rarely spurn the stranger. There may be moments where one is tempted to be a Martha Stewart when Jesus arrives at the door. Resist the urge!

Guests don’t need a perfect presentation as much as an attentive, present host.

  1. Architecture

Many houses no longer look like homes, but are modeled after businesses such as hotels, theaters, or casinos. When a home is modeled after such business, it suffers because it conforms to the philosophy of industrial hospitality.

Industrial hospitality maximizes entertainment, even at the cost of community. Christian hospitality centers around nourishment and fellowship.

A home that is influenced by industrial hospitality will have a projector instead of a fireplace. The kitchen will be unused in favor of take-out. The couches are designed for maximizing the luxurious comfort of the hosts while offering little extra space for guests. There will be no table, or if there is one, it is hardly used. The rooms will be sparse of anything that provokes spiritual or intellectual stimuli, because everything present is designed to assist the hosts in escaping reality rather than welcoming strangers. The doors are locked. The cell-phones are muted. When they do invite guests, it will be a big to-do. There is no thought of being hospitable when they do have “parties”, but of shaking things up.

The hospitable Christian designs their home to be a place where the gospel can thrive. It is not another theater or game arcade. It will be a place for prayer, fellowship, and feasting. The host facilitates regular gatherings that are both planned and spontaneous. The table is used often. There will not be enough seats because of how many arrive, but there will always be plenty of food.

The home that is inspired by industrial hospitality encourages vanity and licentiousness. However, those who enter the hospitable Christian home will know at once that they have entered the house of the Lord.

  1. Purpose

Industrial hospitality vs Christian hospitality are inherently at odds with one another.

Industrial hospitality is most concerned with rewarding the host. Christian hospitality is eager to serve the guest even at the cost to the host.

This leads to the various aesthetic and practical differences.

Establishments that practice industrial hospitality will be trying to sell you something the entire time. They want to up-charge you, offer additional options for your comfort or your entertainment. At the moment, these things might feel good because you are paying to feel like royalty. But it is not sustainable for true satisfaction. At some point one wants more. And even then, one may find themselves displeased and leaving bad reviews because some luxury was not to their liking.

Homes that model their hospitality after this type are not memorable. Even if comfort and entertainment are maximized, one isn’t left feeling welcomed, wanted, and accepted. Therefore there is no real desire to return.

Christian hospitality, though, is concerned with the soul. It sells nothing. It is the gospel made flesh through the practice of philoxenia (love for strangers). Through hospitality we become companions by breaking bread together.

We welcome Christ into our homes when we are spontaneously hospitable to the stranger .

And because of this, our homes are built ready to accept Jesus without reservation. We do not ask for anything in return. We give all we have — nothing more, nothing less. We offer ourselves to our guests as we offer ourselves to Christ.

Final Remarks

From the Bible, we know that the Christian way is to walk the second mile and give away our last coat and offer drink and food to those who knock on our doors. It is foolish to think that modernity has somehow changed or minimized this calling. We are to give freely of what we have. This is Christian hospitality.

At what point should we want to give more than that?

Should we accept a higher paying job so we can build a guest house? Should we optimize the guest room so it is updated with all the finest luxuries modernity has to offer? When our guests make unreasonable demands, do we comply?

Early Christians had these same thoughts, and so when the apostles wrote the Didache, they included a section for the Traveling Christians.

Let everyone who “comes in the Name of the Lord” be received; but when you have tested him you shall know him, for you shall have an understanding of true and false.
If he who comes is a traveler, help him as much as you can, but he shall not remain with you more than two days, or, if need be, three.
And if he wishes to settle among you and has a craft, let him work for his bread.
But if he has no craft proved for him according to your understanding, so that no man shall live among you in idleness because he is a Christian.
But if he will not do so, he is making traffic of Christ; beware of such.

This passage doesn’t contradict the command to care for the windows or aged family members, but explicitly speaks to our duties toward the stranger.

There are limits to how much charity you owe the stranger. Give him a good bed, a good meal, a couple days of conversation, and then bid him farewell. If he must remain, find him work. If he is unable to work, do what you know to be best. But do not let him take advantage of your hospitality. Doing so mocks the gospel.

Although I preach what I call spontaneous hospitality ( the practice of always being welcoming to anyone at any time) I have been accused of not performing true hospitality by my own standards because I have limits.

I do not allow animals in my home, especially the kitchen or living-room. With the exceptions of dinner parties, I will ask my guests to wash the dishes. If I have someone staying for a few days, I expect them to help out with meal preparations and chores. I will respect their dietary needs and make sure they have access to the same comforts I do, but I will not adjust our everyday living circumstances to suit their preferences.

Last summer when I was waiting for our daughter to be born, we had about ten or so house guests. Some of them were there to help with the birth of the baby, some of them simply needed a place to be. I welcomed them joyfully despite my condition because I felt it to be the right thing. However, I did expect them to help out with chores and meals especially since I was pregnant. When someone requested the heat turned on (it was mid-summer and my husband and I were not in the least bit cold) I said no. Instead, I showed them the closet filled with extra wool blankets.

There was some outrage over this because they thought that my beliefs about hospitality meant I had to say yes to anything they asked. This is not Christian hospitality, but a result of industrial hospitality influencing us to believe that one is entitled to options, maximized entertainment, or to demand extra comforts than what was provided.

Christian hospitality is satisfied with offering a stable when there is no other room left. This doesn’t mean you have to turn the heat on in the summertime if that’s what your guest wants, or that you must allow people to live with you if they aren’t pitching in. Even the early Christians believed it was good to set reasonable limits and not invite back those who disrespect your hospitality.