I remember it like it was yesterday, I was grinding it out at the Kimpton Brice in Savannah, running on fumes because we were rolling out a new menu. Anyone who’s ever worked a kitchen knows that a menu launch is chaos on steroids. I was dead tired, frustrated, and about two seconds from losing my mind when our front-of-house manager waltzed in with that look.

“We’ve got a couple here who’d like something special from the kitchen…”

Oh, absolutely not. Not today. Over my dead, overworked body. But then he gave me the look; you know, the one that says this couple is VIP. So, I did what any exhausted chef does: I sucked it up, plated two of our brand-new dishes, and got back to the madness.

An hour later, one of the servers came up.

“The couple wants to speak with you.”

Great. Either they loved it, or I’m about to get chewed out. I wiped the sweat off my face, made myself somewhat presentable, and stepped out to their table. Sitting there was the most unassuming couple, no flashy outfits, no big energy, nothing screaming VIP. They stood up, shook my hand, and started raving about the food.

And then came the moment that still feels like a fever dream.

“You know, we ate at Gordon’s restaurant in London last month, and this? This doesn’t hold a candle to what you just served us.”

Gordon? Gordon who? Wait… Gordon Ramsay?!

I just stood there, brain short-circuiting. I’d never gotten a compliment like that in my life. But it didn’t stop there. They went online, wrote a review, and next thing I knew, we were asked to host the city’s Restaurant Week. Not long after that, I got nominated as a Rising Star by StarChefs magazine out of New York.

And what did it take? Just a little sacrifice, pushing past my frustration, and offering over-the-top hospitality to strangers I never expected. Funny how things work out, huh?

Judges 13 is one of those wild, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it chapters where God shows up in an unexpected way, and hospitality plays a central role. This isn’t just your standard Middle Eastern custom of welcoming guests. It’s a front-row seat to a divine encounter that changes everything.

Picture this; The story kicks off with Manoah and his wife, an unnamed but pivotal woman in Israel’s history. They’re just going about their daily lives when, out of nowhere, the Angel of the Lord appears to her. Now, when we say “Angel of the Lord,” we’re not talking about your average harp-playing, winged cherub. This is God showing up in angelic form, a divine messenger with some life-altering news: she, despite her lifelong barrenness, is going to have a son, Samson. And not just any son. A Nazarite, set apart from birth for God’s purpose.

Now, what does she do with this information? She doesn’t freak out, she doesn’t hesitate? No, she goes straight to her husband. And here’s where hospitality comes into play. Manoah, upon hearing his wife’s account, doesn’t dismiss her or laugh it off. Instead, he prays. He asks God for confirmation, for clarity, and for guidance. Talk about a man who takes spiritual leadership seriously.

And wouldn’t you know it? God answers. The Angel of the Lord returns, this time appearing to the wife again. (There’s something to be said here about God choosing to speak to women first, but that’s a whole other discussion.) She runs to get Manoah, who arrives and immediately extends an invitation to this mysterious guest.

Manoah, like any good host in the ancient world, insists on feeding his guest. Hospitality in that culture wasn’t just about being nice…it was a moral obligation, a sacred duty. If someone shows up at your door, you don’t just say, “Hey, make yourself comfortable,” you prepare a feast. It’s what you do.

So, Manoah invites this stranger to sit down and share a meal. But here’s where things take an interesting turn. The Angel of the Lord declines the meal. Instead, he redirects the offer, “If you prepare a burnt offering, offer it to the Lord.” Manoah, still not fully aware of who he’s talking to, agrees. He doesn’t argue, he doesn’t insist. He simply shifts his hospitality from serving a meal to offering a sacrifice. And that right there? That’s the deeper lesson of hospitality. True hospitality isn’t just about feeding people, it’s about sacrificial generosity. It’s about giving what we have with no strings attached, whether that’s food, time, resources, or even control.

As Manoah places the offering on the rock, something incredible happens. The flames shoot up toward heaven, and in that very moment, the Angel of the Lord ascends in the fire. That’s when it clicks. This wasn’t just a prophet. This wasn’t an ordinary messenger. This was God Himself.

Cue the panic. Manoah immediately freaks out, convinced that he and his wife are about to drop dead because they’ve seen God. (To be fair, the Old Testament has a solid track record of reinforcing that belief, seeing God’s face often didn’t end well for people.) But here’s where his wife shines. She, ever the voice of reason, reassures him: “If the Lord wanted to kill us, He wouldn’t have accepted our offering or told us about these things.” Translation? “Relax, dear. If God had it out for us, we’d already be toast.”

So, what do we take away from this fiery encounter? How does this story apply to us in the here and now?

Be Open to the Unexpected, Manoah’s wife didn’t wake up that morning expecting a divine visitor. But when he showed up, she was ready to receive the message. Hospitality isn’t just about setting a nice table; it’s about having an open heart, ready to receive what (or who) God sends your way. Sometimes, God shows up in ways we least expect, through people or situations that don’t look particularly divine at first glance. The question is, are we paying attention?

Hospitality Is More Than a Meal, Manoah’s first instinct was to feed his guest, and that’s a good instinct. But the Angel of the Lord redirected him toward something greater, a sacrifice. Hospitality isn’t just about filling bellies; it’s about making space for God. It’s about creating room for something bigger than ourselves. Sometimes that means giving sacrificially, whether it’s our time, our energy, or our resources.

Recognizing God’s Presence Isn’t Always Immediate, Let’s be real, Manoah was a little slow on the uptake. He didn’t realize who he was dealing with until the flames shot up. And let’s be honest, we do the same thing. How often do we only recognize God’s hand in hindsight? “Oh, that was God moving in my life.” The beauty of hospitality is that it positions us to see God’s work in real-time; if we’re paying attention.

Fear and Faith Can Coexist, Manoah panicked when he realized what had just happened. But his wife responded with faith. The truth is, we’re all going to have moments where we freak out. When God moves in a big way, it can be overwhelming. But faith reminds us that if God has brought us this far, He’s not about to abandon us now. Hospitality teaches us to trust, not just in our ability to serve others, but in God’s ability to work through the process.

You Never Know Who You’re Hosting, Hebrews 13:2 echoes this very story: “Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some have entertained angels without knowing it.” When we open our doors, our tables, and our lives to others, we have no idea who we might be welcoming. Sometimes, it’s just a neighbor who needs a listening ear. Other times, it’s a divine appointment in disguise.

The story of Manoah and his wife reminds us that hospitality is far more than a social custom, it’s a spiritual practice. When we welcome others with a sincere heart, we create space for God to move. And sometimes, like Manoah, we don’t realize just how sacred that moment is until we’re right in the middle of it.

So the next time you find yourself opening your home, your table, or even just your time to someone, remember: you might just be hosting something holy.

At the end of the day, hospitality isn’t just about fancy table settings or five-star service; it’s about being willing to show up, even when you’re exhausted, frustrated, or just plain over it. Manoah and his wife weren’t expecting a divine guest, just like I wasn’t expecting that couple to turn my entire career on its head. But when the moment came, they leaned in, made room, and gave what they had. And that’s the thing, sometimes hospitality is about setting the table, and sometimes it’s about offering something bigger. A sacrifice. A little extra effort when you don’t think you have it in you. And yeah, it might not always lead to a fireball from heaven or a shoutout in a magazine, but who knows? Maybe…just maybe, you’re entertaining angels without even realizing it.

Stay Salty