“Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without realising it.” (Hebrews 13:2)

Some Bible verses are astonishingly short – and yet they encapsulate an entire way of life.

A few weeks ago, my husband Olaf and I were walking the Baltic-Central German Pilgrimage Route from Rostock to Bad Wilsnack. Like many pilgrims, we were preoccupied with very practical questions: Will we find the right path? Will our bodies cope with the stages? Where will we get something to eat? And above all: Where will we spend the night?

We slept in parish halls, old vicarages, a pilgrims’ monastery, a hotel, a former vicar’s residence and, finally, even in a garden arbour. Each place had its own charm.

In Kladrum, there were two folding beds right next to the church altar. Flowers, mineral water and tea were waiting on the table. Without any fuss – a kind soul had thought of us.

For us, this was a sign of quiet hospitality: someone had thought of us and lovingly prepared the room – at a time when many full-time and voluntary staff are often pushed to their limits.

In Parchim, a female pastor gave us a pilgrim’s blessing the next morning. She laid her hands on both of us and also blessed our shared journey through life. This moment reminded us of our wedding ceremony and touched us deeply.

What moved us most, however, was a place without a church-run hostel.

Gudrun was waiting for us in Muggerkuhl. She let us spend the night in her garden arbour. In the evening, we sat together in her kitchen. She prepared a wonderful supper for us, complete with three fried eggs. The next morning, we had breakfast with her and her husband. We told her about our pilgrimage; she told us about her eventful life. There was laughter, questions and listening. It wasn’t a grand gesture – and perhaps that’s precisely why it was so special.

Hospitality begins where people take time for one another. Where someone asks: ‘How was your journey?’, ‘How are you really?’ or ‘What’s keeping you going at the moment?’

In Low German, there’s a wonderful expression for this: ‘vun Harten fründlich’ – friendly from the heart.

Perhaps, as a church, we sometimes underestimate precisely this power of encounter. Yet God’s presence often manifests in quite unspectacular ways – at the kitchen table, over a cup of tea or during breakfast together.

The Letter to the Hebrews reminds us: ‘Do not forget to show hospitality.’ Hospitality is always a gift for the hosts themselves, too. And it can start on a very small scale – with a cup of tea or three fried eggs.

My hope for us is that the spirit of pilgrimage does not end on the trails, but shapes our everyday lives. That we notice people, give them space and make them feel: You are welcome.

Or as people here in our area used to say when parting:

‘God be with you.’

These two words convey a wonderful message:

You are not walking alone.

PS: I’d be happy to share more of my experiences of the Baltic-Central German Pilgrimage Route. Please contact me by email at sabinepetters@t-online.de.