The People’s Revival

Principle

Hospitality is not politeness. It is not greeters with plastic smiles or coffee served in fellowship halls. True hospitality is fire. It breaks down walls. It pulls the lonely out of the shadows and says: you belong here.

We live in a cyber world where people scroll for hours but die of loneliness. Neighbors live side by side and never speak. America worships privacy, fences, and comfort. And the church? It has baptized this idol. They build multimillion-dollar sanctuaries, then lock their doors when the desperate come looking for shelter. They talk “community” while keeping the poor outside. They treat hospitality like bait — a trick to get more members.

The People of the Light will not do this. We don’t open our lives to make people religious. We don’t open our tables to gain followers. We open them because the need is the call. Hospitality is not marketing. It is mercy. It is the hand of Christ reaching through us. When we open our doors, we give the Light the chance to lift the weight crushing another soul, to bring joy to one who has forgotten it exists.

How We Walk It Out

Personally:

Open your home. However humble, however messy. A couch, a chair, a floor is holy ground when shared in love. Open your time. Sit down, listen, share a meal. Attention is sacred in a world of constant distraction. Open your life. Let yourself be interrupted. Let God’s Spirit move through your inconvenience to bring relief to another.

Together in Hubs:

Shared tables. Every hub ends with food. Not snacks for insiders, but meals where strangers and neighbors eat as equals. Open spaces. We gather in homes, diners, bars, and parks — where anyone can enter without fear. Hospitality offerings. Money isn’t stockpiled; it feeds the hungry, buys gas for the stranded, and gives the weary a bed.

As Activism:

Radical inclusion. Welcome those the church refuses: the addict, the immigrant, the worker covered in grease, the single mother on food stamps. Public hospitality. Take the table into the streets. Break bread on curbsides, pour coffee for the unhoused, sit with the forgotten until they know they are seen. Defiance. When the world isolates, hospitality draws near. When religion demands conversion, hospitality simply loves.

The Stand-Out Truth

Christ did not use meals to recruit members. He broke bread with sinners, tax collectors, and outcasts simply because they were in need. The First Church shared meals daily, and no one was left out.

But America’s churches have twisted hospitality into theater. They sell it as a program. They embezzle offerings for infrastructure while the lonely sit in silence. They use meals as bait, not as mercy.

This must end. Hospitality is not a sales pitch. It is war against despair. In the hands of the People of the Light, every door, every table, every bench, every bar stool becomes holy ground — where Christ Himself lifts burdens and brings joy through us, His people.