In less civilized times monasteries were safe places, outposts of learning and faith when much of civilization had decayed. They provided, too, a secure place for travelers to stay. The image we have of monastic life is being separate and isolated, but monasteries were often vibrant places along the road where travelers and visitors from far-away gathered. Benedict, in chapter 56 of the Rule, specifies that the abbot’s table “must always be with guests and travelers.” When it was time to eat, guests ate at the table where the abbot ate, too. I’m only guessing, but I imagine this had to be an interesting place, where travelers shared stories and news from far away. Tales from the road and news from distant places were heard as they shared food with the Abbot.

These days with air travel and hotels along the interstate the Abbot’s table full of travelers isn’t easily replicated. We all follow the same national news, so we know the news before the visitor brings it. An airport hotel bar might have strangers gathering and sharing stories, but I don’t think that is quite what Benedict was aiming for in describing the Abbot’s table. We could, though, the next time someone we know returns from a trip, invite the person for a meal with the purpose of hearing about the journey. I’m not talking about only seeing pictures of the person in predictable vacationer spots but instead inviting the returned traveler to share what was meaningful and changing about the trip. You could ask your guest, “What was most surprising about the place you visited?,” “What changed you most in the trip?” or “What was the most beautiful thing you encountered while away?” In providing a place for the visitor to share and in hearing their stories from a journey we might experience some of what the Abbot’s table must have been like.