Let me take you back to my time in motorcycle ministry, specifically, one of our biggest events every June, right outside one of the oldest and wildest motorcycle rallies in New England. Now if you know, you know… These rallies aren’t just chrome and funnel cakes. They’re territory-based. Club patches mean something. One club controls Eastern Mass, another Western. Florida belongs to one, Georgia to another. And while there’s a mutual understanding to respect territory, big rallies tend to blur those lines.

So here we are, set up with a ministry tent, serving hot food, sweet tea, and homemade cookies with Gospel tracts tucked inside. No politics, no patch drama. Just food, prayer, and the love of Jesus.

Then a bike rolls in. A guy wearing the patch of the club that runs most of the area steps off. We greet him with respect, give him a plate, and he heads to the campfire. No problem.

But then another bike pulls in. Different club. Very different club. These two groups? Think Hatfields and McCoys. Their beef is legendary. You could feel the tension shift. Everyone got real still. Quiet. Tight.

The second guy walks up. Same routine, we greet him, feed him, show respect. But as he’s standing there, he locks eyes with the first guy across the lot. Cue the whistle from The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.

Before things could spiral, one of our members smiled and said something bold, something Spirit-led:

“This is neutral ground. Everyone is welcome here.”

That was the game-changer.

The second guy nodded, took his plate, and…. walked over and sat right across from the first guy at the fire. They didn’t exchange life stories, but they ate. They talked. It was calm. Respectful. Peaceful.

When they finished, both men got their cookie bags, full of homemade goodness and the Word of God. Before they rode off, each one was personally prayed over. They left with full bellies, tracts in hand, and a blessing spoken over their lives.

It could’ve gone south quick. But one person chose to speak with courage and show true hospitality, hospitality that says, “We make room for everyone because we trust God to meet them here.”

That’s what Jonathan did in 1 Samuel 14. He didn’t wait for perfect conditions. He didn’t let fear dictate his actions. He stepped into the fight, trusting God could save, by many or by few.

That’s Rak Chazak hospitality, strength and courage that opens the door, even when it feels risky.

Let’s talk about something most churches don’t talk about enough when it comes to hospitality, it takes guts. Real, rugged, Holy-Spirit-fueled courage. Hospitality is more than opening your home or slapping a name tag on a greeter. Biblical hospitality is about opening your life, your resources, your heart, even when it’s uncomfortable, even when it’s inconvenient, and especially when it’s risky.

In 1 Samuel 14, we meet a man who understood this better than most. Jonathan, son of Saul, didn’t just show bravery in battle, he showed something much rarer: “Rak Chazak Amats”. That’s a Hebrew battle cry meaning “Only be strong and courageous.” It’s a command we first hear from the mouth of God Himself in Joshua 1:6-7, when He tells Joshua to take the Promised Land, not with fear, but with fierce, unrelenting trust.

Jonathan embodied that. And guess what? We’re called to do the same, not just on ancient battlefields, but right here and now in how we live and how we love. Especially when it comes to showing hospitality.

The truth is, many of us don’t act in biblical hospitality because it forces us to walk by faith. It’s safer to stay in our comfort zones, sit in our pew, wave from a distance, keep our schedules neat and tidy. But the kind of hospitality God calls us to? It’s messy. It’s faith-driven. And yes… it’s scary.

Why? Because real hospitality costs. It costs comfort. It costs convenience. It costs control.

Jonathan understood this.

Picture this:  The Israelites are frozen in fear. The Philistines are breathing down their necks. Saul, the king, is hesitating. But Jonathan? That boy moves. He looks at his armor-bearer and basically says, “Let’s go pick a fight. Maybe God will show up.”

“Nothing can hinder the Lord from saving, whether by many or by few.”

(1 Samuel 14:6)

Now THAT’S Rak Chazak in Biblical Hospitality. That’s strength paired with courage, rooted not in arrogance but in faith. Jonathan didn’t need a perfect plan. He just needed the confidence that God was capable.

And here’s where hospitality enters the picture.

Because when Jonathan stepped out in faith, he wasn’t just attacking an enemy, he was making room for God to act. He created space. He welcomed heaven into the chaos. And that, my friends, is what biblical hospitality looks like.

Fear Is a Liar, But It’s Loud

One of the biggest enemies of hospitality isn’t laziness or lack of resources. It’s fear.

Fear tells you:

“What if they reject me?”

“What if they take advantage?”

“What if I don’t have enough?”

“What if I mess it up?”

And here’s the thing, fear always sounds reasonable. But it’s a liar. And more than that, it’s a thief. Because fear will rob you of the opportunity to see God move. It will choke out your courage and block your blessing.

Hospitality demands faith because it forces us to trust that God will meet us in the offering.

Jonathan didn’t know how things would turn out. But he trusted the character of God more than the certainty of outcomes.

We need that same kind of bravery to live lives of hospitality. Not just the “open the door for dinner guests” kind, but the “invite the broken, the messy, the uncomfortable” kind. The kind that steps into someone’s pain, or shares resources we don’t think we can spare, or welcomes someone who doesn’t look, talk, or vote like we do.

Jonathan wasn’t out to make a name for himself. He was out to make space for God’s power.

And God showed up.

As Jonathan and his armor-bearer made their move, the Philistines panicked. Scripture says there was confusion, an earthquake, and chaos in the enemy camp. God showed up in power, because two men believed He would.

But it didn’t stop there.

Once the other Israelites saw the Philistines in disarray, they snapped out of fear and joined the fight. Even Hebrews who had defected to the enemy returned to their people. One act of faith opened the floodgates for many to return.

That’s the power of courageous hospitality.

When you lead with faith, it unlocks courage in others. When you show up, others follow. When you create space, others step in.

Now let’s contrast Jonathan with his dad.

While Jonathan was acting in faith, Saul was making rash, fear-based decisions. He forbid his troops from eating until the battle was over. That sounds noble until you realize it left his men starving and weak. And when his own son unknowingly broke the oath, Saul was ready to kill him, just to save face.

Fear makes you cling to control. Faith makes you cling to God.

Leadership, whether in a church, a home, or your own life, should always choose faith over fear. Otherwise, we end up building rules instead of relationships. We focus on appearances instead of action. We create sterile, cold, performance-driven environments instead of hospitable, Spirit-led spaces.

The phrase “Rak Chazak Amats” is more than a biblical motivational quote, it’s a command. It was spoken to Joshua when he was about to lead a generation into promise after forty years of wilderness. It was God’s way of saying, “You’re not going in timid. You’re not going in scared. You’re going in trusting Me with everything you’ve got.”

That same call rests on us when it comes to hospitality.

Hospitality isn’t about personality, it’s about posture.

It’s not about being a social butterfly, it’s about being spiritually brave.

It’s saying, “God, I’m opening my life for You to work, use it.”

We need Rak Chazak in our churches.

We need Rak Chazak in our homes.

We need Rak Chazak in our everyday encounters, with strangers, neighbors, and people who feel like lost causes.

What would happen if the Church, the body of Christ, started moving like Jonathan instead of sitting like Saul?

What if we stopped waiting for conditions to be perfect and just went?

What if we stopped letting fear dictate who we welcome and how we serve?

What if we acted like we actually believe God can save “whether by many or by few”?

That’s when revival breaks out. That’s when broken people get healed. That’s when prodigals come home. Because hospitality makes room for heaven to touch earth.

Let’s not forget, Jonathan didn’t win the battle alone. He started it. But others joined. And even when Saul’s leadership misstepped, the people built an altar and sought God’s direction. There was repentance. There was course correction. There was grace.

That’s the beautiful thing about hospitality, it doesn’t require perfection. It just requires obedience.

And when we mess up? We seek restoration. We fix what’s broken. We keep the door open.

Because the same God who called Joshua to “be strong and courageous” is still calling His people to do the same. Not with swords and spears, but with radical love, bold faith, and unwavering hospitality.

Friend, if you’ve been sitting in fear, waiting for the perfect moment to show hospitality, stop waiting. That moment is now. You don’t need all the answers. You just need the faith to move.

Like Jonathan, take your armor-bearer (aka your crew, your friend, your spouse, or just the Holy Spirit) and go up that hill.

Start the conversation.

Open your home.

Invite the outcast.

Step into someone’s pain.

Give what you’ve got.

Because when you move with Rak Chazak faith, God moves with power.

Let’s be a people who set the table with courage.

Let’s make room for God to move through us.

Let’s kick fear out of the driver’s seat.

Jonathan did it with a sword.

We do it with love.

But either way, the call is the same:

Only be strong and courageous.

Only show up with faith.

Only trust that God will do the rest.

Now go, open the door.

Stay Salty