Wave With All Your Fingers

via TJC

“Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing so some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it.” ~Hebrews 13:2

Scripture reminds us that hospitality is rarely dramatic and almost never announced. Most of the time, it looks ordinary—small gestures, brief encounters, everyday kindness. And yet, we are told that in these quiet moments, something far more is happening than we can see.

As an author mentioned earlier this week, what binds Americans together is that each of us carries an origin story—often born out of outrageous circumstances. Every person we meet is the face of a story we know nothing about. Which means every encounter carries weight—every greeting matters. Every choice to acknowledge another human being becomes an opportunity for grace.

This week, we highlight “Wave All Your Fingers at Your Neighbor Day.” I think you can see where this is going, but I’ll help a little. In our society, one finger tends to stand tall and alone among its “neighboring” fingers. This day reminds us to bring the others along—and wave.

If you’ve been around TJC for any length of time, you’ve heard the phrase “Dear Neighbor.” In those two words, we’ve tried to capture the gospel heart of loving our neighbor. Dear Neighbor means seeing the other as cherished and valuable—dear, like a friend or loved one. It also means being open to dialogue and growing in understanding—dear, like the opening of a letter.

This week, I came across an article in Christianity Today about the church’s response to violent raids and turmoil witnessed in Minnesota. Many churches—really, many church members—reached out to immigrant and migrant communities to provide food, shelter, comfort, and support. In a modern Underground Railroad way, these disciples of Christ—Kingdom men and women—loved and cared for their neighbors without prompting or reward. When asked why, they simply said, “This is what we do here.”

Some outlets have described this as “Minnesota Nice,” just part of the state’s cultural DNA. What’s interesting is that the disciples there believe it’s more than that. They describe it as intentional and relational. The foundation had been laid long before the crisis.

They waved.

They greeted their neighbors.

They had conversations.

They invited one another over.

They broke bread. They prayed and sought understanding.

They watched each other’s kids, helped start cars on cold mornings, and practiced a thousand small acts of neighborliness. So when adversity came, care didn’t have to be manufactured—it flowed naturally.

Being a neighbor, of course, means more than caring for those we already know. These believers also lived out Jesus’ answer to the question, “Who is my neighbor?” They treated the stranger—and, as some might argue, even the enemy—with kindness. They greeted the agents. They prayed. They brought water. They stood in the gap.

Sometimes faith looks heroic.

Sometimes it looks supernatural.

And sometimes—it looks like waving with all your fingers.

Daily Battle Order:

Practice Intentional Hospitality. Identify one person you would normally pass by without acknowledgment—a neighbor, coworker, store clerk, parent at practice, or stranger in your daily routine.

Initiate a simple, visible act of hospitality:

Make eye contact and greet them

Wave—with all your fingers

Offer a kind word, help, or brief conversation

Do not rush the moment. Let it cost you a few seconds of presence. 

Remind yourself as you do:

I am not just being polite. I am practicing obedience.

You may never know the story you’ve stepped into—or the unseen work God is doing through something so small. But Scripture assures us: when hospitality is practiced faithfully, heaven is often closer than we think.