The Role of Christian Hospitality during Lent: A Call to Mercy

Why Christian hospitality during Lent is better expressed through works of mercy than through inter-religious ritual in sacred spaces.

Introduction: Courtesy and the Question of Christian Identity
In recent years a growing number of churches across Britain and Europe have hosted Ramadan iftars, the evening meal that breaks the Muslim fast during the holy month of Ramadan. In the United Kingdom such events have been held in Anglican cathedrals and parish churches as part of wider efforts at interfaith engagement and community cohesion.¹ Organisers frequently present them as gestures of friendship toward Muslim neighbours and as expressions of hospitality and shared values.

These motivations are usually sincere. Yet sincerity does not remove the deeper theological and canonical questions such events raise. When a church building—consecrated for Christian worship—becomes the venue for a religious observance associated with another faith, the issue is not merely social courtesy but the meaning and purpose of sacred space. What may appear at first glance to be a simple gesture of goodwill touches on long-standing Christian understandings of the Church, worship, and the public witness of the Gospel.

Misplaced Hospitality
Christian hospitality is a genuine virtue deeply embedded in the Gospel and the early life of the Church. The New Testament repeatedly emphasises the importance of welcoming the stranger and caring for those in need.² The Epistle to the Hebrews exhorts believers not to neglect hospitality, reminding them that “some have entertained angels unawares.”³ The early Christian communities became known throughout the Roman world for their charitable care of widows, the sick, and the poor.⁴

Yet Christian hospitality has always been understood as ordered toward charity and truth. The Church historically distinguished between welcoming individuals and participating in religious practices that contradict the Christian faith.⁵ Hospitality does not require the endorsement of theological claims that deny the central doctrines of Christianity.

Islam explicitly rejects several of these doctrines. The Qur’an denies that God has a Son and rejects the Trinity, declaring: “They do blaspheme who say: God is one of three.”⁶ Christianity, by contrast, proclaims the Triune nature of God and the divinity of Jesus Christ as the core of divine revelation.⁷ For this reason Ramadan is not merely a cultural festival but a religious observance embedded within a theological framework fundamentally different from that of Christianity.⁸

To host an iftar within a church setting therefore risks conveying the impression that Christians are not simply welcoming Muslim neighbours but participating in, or symbolically affirming, a religious practice rooted in a theology that explicitly denies the central claims of the Christian faith.

The Canonical Meaning of Sacred Space
The question becomes clearer when one considers the canonical status of church buildings. In both Catholic and Anglican traditions a church is not simply a gathering space but a place formally set apart for divine worship.

The Code of Canon Law of the Catholic Church defines a church as “a sacred building designated for divine worship, to which the faithful have the right of access for the exercise, especially public exercise, of divine worship.”⁹ Canon law further states that within sacred places only those activities that “serve the exercise or promotion of worship, piety, and religion” are permitted, and that uses incompatible with the sanctity of the place are forbidden.¹⁰

Similarly, the Canons of the Church of England affirm that a consecrated church is set apart “for the worship of Almighty God and for no other purpose inconsistent with that worship.”¹¹ The canons further regulate how church buildings may be used, requiring ecclesiastical permission for activities not directly connected with Christian worship and emphasising that such uses must not compromise the sacred character of the building.¹²

These canonical principles reflect a long Christian tradition in which church buildings are treated as sacred spaces dedicated to the proclamation of Christ and the celebration of the sacraments.¹³

The Adhān: A Confession of Islamic Faith
The theological significance of church-hosted iftars becomes even clearer when one considers how Ramadan observance normally begins. The breaking of the daily fast traditionally follows the adhān, the Islamic call to prayer announcing the sunset prayer known as maghrib.¹⁴

The adhān is not simply a ceremonial introduction to a meal. It is a public proclamation of Islamic belief. Among its words are the declarations:

“I bear witness that there is no god but Allah.”
“I bear witness that Muhammad is the messenger of Allah.”¹⁵

These statements are closely related to the shahāda, the foundational confession of Islam.¹⁶ The recitation of the adhān therefore marks the beginning of an act of Islamic worship rather than merely the start of a communal meal.

When the call to prayer is recited inside a church building, the space becomes the setting for the public proclamation of Islamic doctrine. This creates an obvious symbolic tension with the purpose of a church, which exists to proclaim the lordship of Jesus Christ and the saving truth of the Gospel.

Islamic Prayer and the Symbolism of Place
Islamic jurisprudence distinguishes between a permanent mosque (masjid) and a temporary place of prayer (musallā).¹⁷ A mosque normally requires formal dedication as a charitable religious endowment (waqf).¹⁸ The recitation of the call to prayer alone does not legally transform a building into a mosque.

Nevertheless the adhān has historically functioned as a powerful marker of Islamic religious presence. Early Islamic historical sources frequently record that when a city came under Muslim authority the first religious act was the proclamation of the call to prayer.¹⁹

Even today the recitation of the call to prayer indicates that a place has become a site of Islamic worship, even if only temporarily.²⁰ When the adhān is recited in a particular location, that place effectively functions as a setting for Islamic prayer.

If the call to prayer is recited within a Christian church, the building therefore becomes—at least for the duration of that act—a place where Islamic worship is publicly proclaimed. While the legal status of the building does not change, the symbolic message becomes difficult to ignore: a sanctuary dedicated to the worship of Christ is temporarily serving as a setting for the proclamation of another religion’s creed.

Unintended Religious Relativism
Events such as church-hosted iftars are often motivated by the desire to promote social harmony and mutual understanding. Yet the symbolism can easily suggest that the doctrinal differences between Christianity and Islam are merely superficial variations within a broader shared spirituality.

Historically Christianity has never understood itself in this way. The Church proclaims that Jesus Christ is the incarnate Son of God and the unique mediator between God and humanity.²¹ The Gospel does not present Christ as one religious teacher among many but as the one through whom salvation is offered to the world.

When churches host religious observances rooted in a theology that denies these claims, the impression may arise that such differences are unimportant. The result can be an unintended form of religious relativism.

False Equivalence Between Religions
Closely related to this problem is the risk of false equivalence. Christianity and Islam make fundamentally different claims about the nature of God, the person of Christ, and the means of salvation.

Islam affirms strict monotheism (tawḥīd) and explicitly rejects the Trinity and the divine sonship of Christ.²² Christianity proclaims the Triune nature of God and the incarnation of the Word as the heart of divine revelation.²³

Presenting the ritual practices of the two traditions as interchangeable expressions of devotion risks obscuring the depth of this theological divergence. Genuine dialogue between religions requires honesty about differences rather than symbolic gestures that blur them.

The Question of Reciprocity
There is also a practical observation that cannot be ignored: the absence of genuine reciprocity in the use of sacred spaces.

In most mosques the prayer hall itself is strictly reserved for Islamic worship, and activities conducted there are expected to conform to Islamic norms governing the sanctity of the space.²⁴ Islamic jurisprudence generally treats the mosque as a place dedicated to ritual prayer (salāh) and the remembrance of God rather than a neutral venue for interreligious gatherings.

It would therefore be extremely unusual for a mosque to permit an ecumenical meal within its prayer hall. Christian prayers would not normally be allowed, and the proclamation of doctrines such as the Trinity or the divinity of Christ would be incompatible with the religious purpose of the space.²⁵ In addition, the customary norms of many mosques involve gender separation within prayer spaces, reflecting established Islamic practice.²⁶

The result is a striking asymmetry. Christian churches are frequently presented as open venues for the religious practices of other faiths, while Islamic sacred spaces typically maintain clear boundaries regarding the forms of worship permitted within them.

A More Authentic Lenten Witness
None of these concerns require hostility toward Muslims or opposition to peaceful coexistence. Christians are called to treat all people with charity and respect. Yet charity must remain rooted in truth.

The irony is particularly striking when such events occur during the Christian season of Lent, a period traditionally devoted to fasting, repentance, prayer, and almsgiving.²⁷

The prophet Isaiah famously describes the true fast as sharing bread with the hungry and bringing the homeless poor into one’s house.²⁸ For the Fathers of the Church this passage became central to understanding the meaning of the Lenten fast.

St John Chrysostom taught that fasting must be accompanied by mercy toward the poor and warned that fasting without charity is empty.²⁹ St Leo the Great likewise instructed the faithful that what Christians deny themselves through fasting should become sustenance for the needy.³⁰

Historically the Church’s Lenten discipline therefore involved almsgiving, charitable distributions of food, and care for the poor.³¹ Christ Himself provides the pattern: “When you give a feast, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind.”³²

When churches open their doors to feed the poor during Lent, the sacred space of the church is not being repurposed but fulfilled in its deepest vocation as the house of God and refuge of the needy.

Conclusion: Hospitality Ordered by Truth
The Church should never be afraid of kindness. But kindness must be ordered by truth. A church is not a neutral venue between religions but the house of God, dedicated to the proclamation of the Gospel and the worship of Christ.

When that identity becomes blurred—even in the name of goodwill—the Church risks forgetting the very purpose for which her sanctuaries were built.

At a deeper level, the phenomenon of church-hosted iftars reflects a broader cultural and theological shift that has affected many Christian communities in recent decades. The increasing influence of secularism, religious relativism, and a subjective emotionalism in matters of faith has encouraged the view that the Church’s primary role is to foster social harmony rather than to bear witness to the truth of the Gospel. In such a climate, symbolic gestures of inclusivity often take precedence over theological clarity.

Yet the Christian tradition has always insisted that charity and truth cannot be separated. A Church that becomes hesitant to affirm the distinctiveness of the faith entrusted to it inevitably weakens its own witness. When sacred spaces are treated as neutral venues for religious pluralism, the Church’s proclamation of Christ risks becoming indistinguishable from the surrounding culture.

The result is not greater relevance but the opposite. A Church that mirrors the assumptions of secular society eventually loses the very identity that once made it a moral and spiritual guide for that society. If Christian communities wish to remain credible in their mission and ministry, they must recover the confidence to preserve the integrity of their worship, their doctrine, and the sacred spaces dedicated to them.

It should also be noted that the concern raised here is not about the act of sharing food with Muslim neighbours itself. Hospitality between communities can be a good and constructive expression of civic friendship. If a parish wishes to host a meal during Ramadan in a church hall, parish centre, or other community space, such an event would not carry the same theological symbolism as holding it within a consecrated sanctuary. Community spaces exist precisely for social gatherings and shared civic life, and hosting an iftar in such a setting would avoid the confusion created when a sacred space dedicated to Christian worship becomes the venue for the rituals of another religion.

Hospitality toward all people is a Christian duty. But hospitality must always be shaped by the truth that the Church exists to proclaim: that Jesus Christ is Lord, and that the house dedicated to His worship is not a neutral hall of religious exchange but the place where the Gospel is proclaimed and the saving mystery of Christ is celebrated.

First published at Nuntiatoria

See examples reported in UK church and national media of cathedral-hosted Ramadan events, e.g., Anglican diocesan communications and press coverage of interfaith iftars.
Matthew 25:35; Romans 12:13.
Hebrews 13:2.
Rodney Stark, The Rise of Christianity (Princeton University Press, 1996), pp. 73–94.
Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, II–II, q.103–107.
Qur’an 5:73.
Catechism of the Catholic Church §§232–267.
Jonathan A. C. Brown, Misquoting Muhammad (Oneworld Publications, 2014), pp. 165–168.
Codex Iuris Canonici (1983), canon 1214.
Codex Iuris Canonici (1983), canon 1210.
Canons of the Church of England, Canon F18 §1.
Canons of the Church of England, Canon F16; Canon F18.
Joseph A. Jungmann, The Early Liturgy (University of Notre Dame Press, 1959).
Mohammad Hashim Kamali, The Middle Path of Moderation in Islam (Oxford University Press, 2015), pp. 141–144.
Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, Kitāb al-Adhān, hadith 603–605.
William Montgomery Watt, Islamic Creed and Theology (Edinburgh University Press, 1985), pp. 12–16.
Wael B. Hallaq, An Introduction to Islamic Law (Cambridge University Press, 2009), pp. 124–126.
Michael Bonner, Islamic Endowments (Waqf) (Princeton University Press, 2005).
Hugh Kennedy, The Great Arab Conquests (Da Capo Press, 2007), pp. 168–170.
Kamali, The Middle Path of Moderation in Islam, pp. 142–143.
John 14:6; 1 Timothy 2:5.
Qur’an 112:1–4.
Catechism of the Catholic Church §§232–260.
Jonathan Bloom & Sheila Blair, The Grove Encyclopedia of Islamic Art and Architecture, entry “Mosque.”
Wael B. Hallaq, An Introduction to Islamic Law, pp. 124–126.
Marion Holmes Katz, Women in the Mosque (Columbia University Press, 2014).
Thomas J. Talley, The Origins of the Liturgical Year (Liturgical Press, 1991).
Isaiah 58:6–7.
John Chrysostom, Homiliae de Jejunio, PG 49.
Leo Magnus, Sermones, PL 54.
Talley, Origins of the Liturgical Year, pp. 169–182.
Luke 14:13–14.