The Hospitality Performance: Somewhere Between Genuine and Rehearsed

My family knows the game I play when we go to our favorite local restaurant, 131 Main. They shake their heads, but they usually play along. Unsuspecting guests are unwittingly invited into the game as well, usually to my wife’s chagrin. It’s simple but profound, and always sparks a lively conversation.

The game starts with a simple question: Usually about half way through our meal, I will ask, “How many servers, hosts, etc. have stopped by our table and engaged us?

Their answer is almost always wrong (on the low side); my personal record is 7.

Which brings us to today’s topic, the third in a series of four exploring how food experiences reveal fundamental truths about social interaction, identity, and community through the lens of Erving Goffman’s dramaturgical sociology. Read the series here; continue with Part Three below.


The server refilled your beverage glass before you noticed it was empty. She remembered your shellfish allergy from the reservation notes. When your date’s entrée arrived overcooked, another server whisked it away with genuine apology, returning minutes later with a perfect replacement – and a complimentary dessert. The meal felt effortless, warm, authentic. And it was completely choreographed.

Danny Meyer built a restaurant empire on a paradox: the best hospitality feels spontaneous but requires meticulous planning. In Setting the Table, Meyer describes what he calls “enlightened hospitality” – a philosophy that transformed the service industry. At its core lies a tension sociologist Erving Goffman would recognize immediately: How do you engineer authentic human connection? How do you perform genuine care?

Will Guidara, Meyer’s protégé who led Eleven Madison Park to the top of the World’s 50 Best Restaurants list, pushed this paradox further. In Unreasonable Hospitality, Guidara describes deliberately breaking the script to create unrehearsed magic. His team once overheard guests mention they’d never had a New York hot dog, so they sent a runner to the street cart and served it on fine china as an additional course. For a family from Spain, they transformed a private dining room into a miniature beach, complete with sand. These gestures weren’t in any manual. They were improvised performances of care that cost money while generating nothing but goodwill – and legend.

Together, Meyer and Guidara represent two poles of the same challenge: How do you systematize spontaneity? How do you make the rehearsed feel unrehearsed?

Service vs. Hospitality: Technique vs. Performance

Meyer distinguishes sharply between service and hospitality. Service is technical – delivering food and drink correctly. Anyone can learn it. Hospitality is emotional – making guests feel cared for. It requires what Meyer calls “emotional intelligence, empathy, and thoughtfulness.” But here’s the contradiction: Meyer systematizes these supposedly spontaneous qualities. He hires for them, trains for them, rewards them. He’s created theater where servers must improvise within carefully constructed parameters, where authentic emotion is both the goal and the product.

Guidara inherited a restaurant that delivered flawless service – technically perfect, precisely timed, utterly professional. But it felt cold. Guests were impressed but not moved. The performance was too polished, too obviously rehearsed. What was missing was the human moment – the break in the script that reminds diners they’re being served by people, not automatons.

This is Goffman’s dramaturgical theory as commercial practice. These restaurants are elaborate stages with clearly defined regions. The dining room is “front stage,” where servers perform gracious hospitality. The kitchen is “backstage,” where the performance is prepared – not just the food, but the emotional labor required to seem effortlessly caring for hours.

PERSONAL OBSERVATION: In all our years of going to 131 Main, we’ve never had a “bad” experience – and only one has been less than stellar. The floor manager walked by, noticed that only one entree had been delivered to our table of four, and beyond earshot but in range of my inquisitive eye, talked to our primary server. She came by apologize for the miscue, took my entree to be boxed up, and in just a few minutes all four entrees were delivered by a pair of servers. The manager apologized and removed the entree from our bill.

Was this technique or performance?

Reading the Room: The Art of Improvisation

Great hospitality requires constant calibration. Servers must read each table: Are these guests celebrating or conducting business? Do they want conversation or privacy? Are they in a hurry or lingering? This is impression management in real time, adjusting the performance to match unstated needs. A skilled server shifts registers instantly: warm with one table, briskly efficient with another, invisible to a couple deep in conversation.

Meyer hires for what he calls “hospitality quotient” – an intuitive understanding of how to make others comfortable. But even innate empathy needs refinement through training. His restaurants teach servers “dramaturgical discipline” (Goffman’s term): maintaining character under pressure, never letting the mask slip, preserving the illusion that this care is spontaneous.

Guidara pushes beyond discipline into creativity. He instituted “dreamweaver” roles – staff whose sole job was finding opportunities for unreasonable gestures. They’d listen tactfully to conversations, looking for moments to surprise and delight. Overheard a birthday? Not just a candle on dessert, but perhaps the sommelier opens something special from the birth year. Mentioned you’re from Chicago? Maybe a house-made deep-dish pizza appears, completely off-menu.

These gestures required different training. Staff needed permission to break the script, but also judgment to know when breaking it enhanced rather than disrupted the experience. They had to perform confidence, creativity, and care – while maintaining the structure that allowed a complex restaurant to function.

The pre-shift meeting became crucial in both operations. Here, teams review reservations, discuss VIPs, share information about guests’ preferences or occasions. They’re literally preparing for performance: who’s in the audience tonight, what they might need, how to deliver it. It’s backstage rehearsal for the front stage show.

Blurring the Boundaries: When Backstage Becomes Front Stage

The kitchen is traditionally the ultimate backstage – hot, chaotic, often profane. Here, cooks can drop the serenity performance and reveal the stress and intense coordination required for seamless dining. The swinging door is a literal threshold between raw reality and polished performance.

But Meyer and Guidara complicate this binary. Meyer prefers open kitchens, deliberately blurring front and backstage. If diners can see the kitchen, it becomes part of the performance – chefs must maintain some front stage behavior even in their traditional backstage space. The performance expands to encompass more truth.

Guidara went further, involving the entire team in hospitality, not just servers. Dishwashers, prep cooks, even accountants contributed ideas for guest experiences. The backstage crew became part of the front stage performance, invested in emotional experience, not just technical execution. This distributed emotional labor across the organization but raised the stakes – everyone needed some dramaturgical discipline.

The Paradox of Performing Authenticity

Meyer insists that true hospitality requires servers to bring their authentic selves to work. He wants people, not automatons following scripts. This creates fascinating tension: servers must be genuine, but their genuineness must serve commercial interests. They must care, but not too much. They must be friendly, but maintain professional boundaries. They’re asked to perform authenticity itself.

Guidara frames this as “prestige without pretense” – delivering world-class experiences without stuffiness. His staff performed simultaneously as highly trained professionals and warm, genuine people who happened to serve food. They needed to know which fork goes where while also laughing at themselves, acknowledging mistakes with grace, treating a street hot dog with the same respect as a truffle course.

This is emotional labor at its most sophisticated. Sociologist Arlie Russell Hochschild coined the term to describe work requiring managing one’s feelings to create observable displays. Flight attendants perform serenity during turbulence. Bill collectors perform stern authority. Restaurant servers perform genuine warmth toward strangers – again and again, table after table, shift after shift.

The risk, Hochschild warned, is alienation – when performing emotion becomes so divorced from feeling it that workers lose touch with authentic selves. Meyer and Guidara both recognize this danger. Meyer emphasizes employee well-being, competitive pay, and advancement, understanding you cannot extract authentic-seeming hospitality from miserable workers. Guidara instituted family meals, team outings, and celebration culture, ensuring the care his staff performed outward was mirrored by care they received internally.

The investment serves strategic purposes. Happy employees provide better hospitality, creating better experiences, generating more revenue and prestige. The care flows both directions, but it’s still choreography.

The Economics of Breaking the Script

Guidara’s “unreasonable” gestures raise questions about the economics of performance. Sending runners for street hot dogs, building beaches in dining rooms, opening rare wines at a loss – these seem to contradict profit maximization. But they generate something more valuable than immediate revenue: stories. Guests don’t just remember the meal; they remember the magic. They become evangelists, telling everyone about the restaurant that somehow knew exactly what would delight them.

This is impression management on a grand scale. The unreasonable gesture performs several things simultaneously: the restaurant values experience over efficiency, sees guests as individuals rather than covers, has resources to spare for pure generosity. These performances build brand value far exceeding immediate cost.

But there’s risk. Once unreasonable becomes expected, it loses power. If every guest anticipates a surprise, the surprise ceases to surprise. Guidara’s team had to constantly escalate, finding new ways to break the script, new performances of spontaneous care. The unreasonable had to remain genuinely unreasonable, which meant it couldn’t be completely systematized. They needed structure loose enough to allow real improvisation.

This is the central paradox of both philosophies: you must build systems that enable breaking the system. You must rehearse spontaneity. You must perform authenticity so skillfully that it becomes indistinguishable from the real thing.

Team Performance and Collective Care

Goffman wrote about “teams” – groups of performers cooperating to maintain a particular definition of the situation. Restaurants operate as complex team performances. Servers, runners, bartenders, hosts, and kitchen staff all collaborate to sustain the illusion of effortless hospitality. When one team member breaks character – a visibly stressed server, a curt host, a runner slamming down platesthe entire performance suffers.

Meyer’s training emphasizes “dramaturgical loyalty”: team members must support each other’s performances, cover mistakes, and maintain unified front stage behavior regardless of backstage chaos. If a server forgets to fire a course, the team rallies to correct it invisibly. If a guest complaint threatens the performance, everyone adjusts to restore equilibrium.

Guidara extended the team concept to include guests. He recognized diners also perform – they’re performing sophistication to appreciate haute cuisine, performing celebration or romance, performing social identities. The restaurant’s job was supporting these guest performances, being the stage where their special occasions could unfold successfully.

This meant sometimes letting guests lead, even when it meant bending the restaurant’s script. If a table wanted to linger over dessert for two hours, closing the kitchen around them, that became part of the performance. If guests wanted photos when most fine dining establishments discouraged it, Guidara’s team offered to take the photos, turning a potential protocol breach into enhanced experience.

The restaurant table is a stage where multiple performances intersect. Servers perform hospitality. Guests perform being worthy of such hospitality – appreciative, knowledgeable, appropriately demanding. The restaurant itself performs identity: casual or formal, traditional or innovative, exclusive or accessible. All these performances must align for the experience to succeed.

Digital Stages and Expanded Audiences

The digital age complicates these performances. Online reviews mean every guest is a potential critic, every meal a potential public performance. Servers must manage not just immediate impressions but photographable moments. Food must be Instagram-worthy; the experience must generate positive Yelp reviews. The performance extends beyond physical space into digital realm, evaluated by strangers and compared against countless competing performances.

Guidara understood this intuitively. The unreasonable gestures weren’t just about recipients – they were about the stories recipients would tell. Each surprise was designed to be shareable, to become legend. When Eleven Madison Park climbed the World’s 50 Best list, it wasn’t just technical excellence. It was accumulated stories of magic, circulating through social networks, building a reputation for hospitality transcending mere service.

But this created new pressures. Staff had to perform for two audiences simultaneously: guests in the room and potential thousands who might see photos or read reviews. A beautifully plated dish had to photograph well. An unreasonable gesture had to be story-worthy. The performance became more complex, more layered, more exhausting.

Meyer and Guidara navigated this by focusing on the immediate audience – the actual humans in their dining rooms. Yes, digital performance mattered, but it had to emerge organically from genuine hospitality rather than being engineered for likes and shares. The performance of care had to convince in person before it could convince online.

When Performance Dissolves Into Identity

The profound question at the heart of both Setting the Table and Unreasonable Hospitality is whether performing care can become real care. Meyer believes it can – that consistently acting with genuine hospitality makes it who you are rather than what you’re performing. Guidara pushes further, arguing unreasonable hospitality isn’t performance at all, but a mindset, a way of moving through the world that sees every interaction as an opportunity for generosity.

Goffman might have been more skeptical, seeing the self as nothing more than the sum of its performances. Perhaps the truth lies between: we perform hospitality until we internalize the script, and then the line between authentic and performed dissolves entirely. The server who’s practiced warmth for a decade may no longer distinguish between genuine feeling and professional performance – and perhaps that distinction no longer matters.

Consider the implications. If we perform care long enough, with enough consistency and skill, does it matter whether we “really” feel it? If the guest experiences genuine warmth, if they leave feeling valued and seen, does the server’s inner emotional state change the moral or practical reality of what happened?

This challenges our usual assumptions about authenticity. We tend to think authentic means unperformed, spontaneous, arising naturally from inner feeling. But Meyer and Guidara suggest another possibility: that authentic means fully committed to the performance, bringing your whole self to the work of caring for others, even – or especially – when it’s difficult.

The Theater of Everyday Generosity

In an economy increasingly built on service and experience rather than goods, we’re all in the hospitality business now. We all manage impressions, perform emotional labor, and navigate the tension between authenticity and strategic self-presentation. Customer service representatives, teachers, healthcare workers, flight attendants – all perform care as part of their professional roles.

Meyer’s restaurants and Guidara’s unreasonable gestures are simply more honest about the choreography, more intentional about the performance. They’ve turned the art of seeming real into a refined craft. But they’ve also revealed something hopeful: that performed care, executed with enough skill and genuine investment, can create real connection.

The script, when well-written and expertly delivered, can facilitate authentic human moments. There’s dignity in the performance, in choosing to show up night after night and make strangers feel valued, seen, cared for. The emotional labor is real labor, worthy of respect and compensation. And the moments of connection it creates, however fleeting, are genuinely valuable.

The restaurant is a microcosm of social life itself – a stage where we practice being generous, attentive, and present. Where we learn that authenticity and performance aren’t opposites but dance partners, each making the other possible. Where we discover that the most genuine moments often emerge from carefully constructed circumstances.

Think about the last time you felt truly welcomed somewhere – a hotel, a store, a friend’s home. Chances are, some of that welcome was performed. Your friend cleaned the house, planned the meal, performed the role of gracious host. The hotel desk clerk followed training on how to greet guests warmly. The store employee was taught to make eye contact and smile. Does knowing this diminish the experience? Or does it reveal how much effort people invest in making others feel good?

Meyer and Guidara have built careers on a beautiful paradox: you can engineer magic, choreograph spontaneity, and perform your way into authentic human connection. Their restaurants prove Goffman was right about social life being theatrical – but also that theater, at its best, reveals deeper truths.

The performance of hospitality, sustained with enough care and creativity, becomes indistinguishable from hospitality itself. And in that dissolution of boundaries between real and performed, we find something worth celebrating: the possibility that all our social performances, executed with genuine care, might actually make us better, kinder, more attentive to each other’s humanity.

The Lesson From the Kitchen Door

The real lesson from the front and backstage of great restaurants isn’t that hospitality is fake. It’s that performing care, again and again, with discipline and creativity and unreasonable generosity, is one of the most authentic things we can do.

When the server remembers your shellfish allergy, when the team builds a beach in a dining room for homesick guests, when the kitchen stays open late because you’re clearly celebrating something important – these are performances, yes. But they’re performances in service of something real: the fundamental human need to be seen, valued, and cared for.

Goffman taught us that all social interaction involves performance. We’re always managing impressions, always aware of our audience, always making choices about how to present ourselves. The question isn’t whether to perform – we can’t not perform. The question is what kind of performance to give, what values to embody, what kind of world to create through our repeated small dramas of daily life.

Meyer and Guidara chose to perform generosity, warmth, and attention. They built systems to support these performances and trained teams to execute them. They invested enormous resources in making strangers feel special for a few hours. And in doing so, they demonstrated that the performance of care, when taken seriously as craft and commitment, creates something genuine.

The swinging kitchen door separates front stage from backstage, performance from preparation, the polished from the raw. But in the best restaurants – and perhaps in the best lives – that door swings freely. The backstage work of preparation makes the front stage magic possible. The front stage performance gives meaning to the backstage effort. They’re not opposites but partners in creating experiences worth remembering.

We’re all standing on one side of that door or the other, all the time. Sometimes we’re performing for others; sometimes we’re preparing our performances; sometimes we’re the audience for someone else’s carefully crafted care. Understanding this doesn’t diminish the magic. It deepens our appreciation for the work involved in making each other feel human, valued, and connected in a world that too often treats us as interchangeable.

That’s the gift Meyer and Guidara offer: not just better restaurants, but a clearer understanding of what we’re all doing when we choose to care for each other, even when – especially when – it requires effort, training, and conscious performance. The care is real. The performance makes it possible. And that’s not a contradiction. That’s just life, lived with intention and grace.


Part of a regular series on 27gen, entitled Wednesday Weekly Reader.

During my elementary school years one of the things I looked forward to the most was the delivery of “My Weekly Reader,” a weekly educational magazine designed for children and containing news-based current events.

It became a regular part of my love for reading, and helped develop my curiosity about the world around us.

The Host’s Posture: Embodying Christ’s Love and Humility

Having explored God as the ultimate Host and the sacred act of preparing our tables, we now turn to the heart of the matter: the host themselves. In biblical hospitality, the host is not merely an orchestrator of events but an ambassador of Christ’s love, called to embody humility, service, and genuine care. This posture transcends social graces, moving into the realm of spiritual discipline and Christ-like imitation.

At the core of the host’s posture is Christ as the Ultimate Servant-Host. No one exemplified true hospitality more perfectly than Jesus. He consistently flipped societal norms, demonstrating that true leadership is found in humble service. His most profound act of hospitality, the washing of His disciples’ feet (John 13), redefined leadership as servanthood. He, the Master, took the lowest position, demonstrating that a host’s primary role is not to be served, but to serve. This is echoed in Luke 22:27, where Jesus states, “For who is greater, the one who is at the table or the one who serves? Is it not the one who is at the table? But I am among you as one who serves.” When we host, we are invited to mimic this divine humility, setting aside our own comfort or desire for accolades to prioritize the needs and well-being of our guests.

This posture of servanthood is fueled by love as the guiding principle. The kind of love mandated for the Christian host is agape love – a selfless, unconditional, sacrificial love that seeks the good of the other. It’s not a sentimental feeling but an active choice, a commitment to goodwill and action. This agape love compels us to anticipate needs, to overlook minor inconveniences, and to extend grace even when guests might be challenging or unresponsive. It means being attentive to dietary restrictions, cultural differences, or personal discomforts, not out of obligation, but out of a genuine desire to make others feel seen, valued, and cherished. When love guides our hospitality, the atmosphere of our home becomes a tangible expression of God’s heart.

A vital expression of this love is active listening and empathy. True hospitality creates a safe space where guests feel heard and understood. This requires the host to move beyond polite small talk, engaging in genuine conversation, asking thoughtful questions, and truly listening to the answers. It means being attuned to unspoken cues, recognizing when someone might be tired, uncomfortable, or in need of encouragement. The ability to empathize with a guest’s situation, even if unspoken, allows the host to minister to their deeper needs, offering not just physical sustenance but emotional and spiritual refreshment. This attentiveness, a mirror of Christ’s compassion, fosters profound connection that transcends a mere social gathering.

Perhaps one of the greatest challenges for any host is overcoming self-consciousness. The temptation to impress, to seek approval, or to worry excessively about every detail can stifle genuine hospitality. This self-focus pulls us away from the Christ-like posture of humility and service. True biblical hospitality liberates us from this burden. It’s not about our performance, but about God’s provision and His love flowing through us. When we release the pressure to be perfect and instead lean into God’s grace, we are free to be authentic, present, and genuinely engaged with our guests. This freedom allows us to welcome others into our imperfections, creating a more relatable and comforting environment than any meticulously curated facade. It’s in our vulnerability that guests often feel most at ease.

Finally, the host has a unique opportunity to facilitate edifying fellowship. The table, as a place of gathering, is ideal for conversation that builds up, encourages, and points towards spiritual truth. This doesn’t mean forcing awkward spiritual conversations, but rather creating an atmosphere where genuine sharing, laughter, and even thoughtful discussion about faith can naturally emerge. The host can gently steer conversation away from gossip or divisive topics, instead fostering dialogue that promotes unity, celebrates God’s goodness, and encourages mutual spiritual growth. This might involve sharing personal testimonies, discussing a Bible verse, or simply creating space for deep, meaningful conversations that nourish the soul as much as the meal nourishes the body.

Ultimately, the act of hosting, when viewed through a biblical lens, is a powerful manifestation of hospitality as a spiritual gift. Romans 12:13 encourages believers to “contribute to the needs of the saints and seek to show hospitality.” For those with this gift, it is a joy and a calling. For all believers, it is a command to be practiced. Cultivating this gift means intentionally developing the character qualities of love, humility, patience, and generosity. It means recognizing that God empowers us to be His hands and feet, extending His welcome, His grace, and His love to a world longing for genuine connection.

The host’s posture, therefore, is not merely a set of behaviors but a reflection of Christ’s character. By embracing humility, embodying love, practicing active listening, overcoming self-consciousness, and facilitating edifying fellowship, we become channels of God’s divine invitation, transforming our tables into sacred spaces where hearts are drawn closer to Him and to one another.


Today is the third in a five-part series that will prayerfully explore the profound role of the dining table in fostering Christ-like hospitality within the home, moving beyond mere functionality to embrace its spiritual, redemptive, and missional significance as an act of obedience, love, and worship.

The dining table should be a sacred altar of God’s grace, a place where His character of welcome and provision is manifest, where relationships are sanctified, and where the Kingdom of God is tangibly extended through shared communion.

Third Place Changes: The Shift from Physical to Digital Spaces & The Growth of Online Communities

Ray Oldenburg’s concept of the “third place” (the social environments that are separate from the “first place” of home and the “second place” of work) has evolved significantly over the past 35+ years, shaped by cultural, technological, and economic shifts. While Oldenburg’s books – The Great Good Place (1989) and Celebrating the Third Place (2000) – highlighted informal public spaces like cafes, bars, and parks as essential for community building and fostering social interaction, these spaces have been impacted by various factors over the last three decades. 

Today begins a series examining the changes that have and are occuring in third places. First up is a closer look at the shift from physical to digital spaces and the growth of online communities.


In the past 35 years, the concept of the third place has expanded beyond the traditional physical spaces that Ray Oldenburg originally described. This transformation is largely due to the rise of the internet and digital technologies, which have enabled new forms of interaction and community-building. Here’s a deeper dive into the shift from physical to digital spaces.

The Growth of Online Communities

Oldenburg’s third place was about informal public spaces where individuals could gather, relax, and build social connections outside of home and work. In the digital age, online communities have emerged as new forms of these third places, offering similar opportunities for connection, albeit without the need for physical proximity. Key factors include:

  • Social Media Platforms: Sites like Facebook, X, Instagram, and TicTok have allowed people to form and maintain relationships in virtual environments. These platforms create communities based on shared interests, hobbies, or experiences, replacing some of the functions of physical third places. For example, a Facebook group for photography enthusiasts can foster a sense of community in much the same way a local photography club would.
  • Forums and Discussion Boards: Reddit, one of the largest online forums, has thousands of “subreddits” (topic-based communities) where people engage in informal discussions. Subreddits function like virtual third places by facilitating regular, unstructured social interaction, much like a neighborhood café or pub might. Similarly, platforms like Stack Overflow or specialized online forums serve as gathering spaces for specific interest groups.
  • Video Games and Virtual Worlds: Online multiplayer games like World of Warcraft, Fortnite, or Animal Crossing have evolved into virtual third places where people not only play but also socialize. These games offer platforms for spontaneous conversations, casual interaction, and even real-world friendships, replicating the social environment of physical third places.

These online spaces transcend geographical barriers, allowing people from all over the world to interact, which has fundamentally changed how we think about community. Unlike traditional third places, which are typically local and require physical presence, digital third places allow for global, virtual connections that can be maintained in real time.

Hybrid Spaces: The Merging of Physical and Digital Worlds

Physical third places increasingly have a digital component, creating “hybrid spaces” where the physical and virtual worlds overlap. Several examples highlight this trend:

  • Cafés and Co-working Spaces with Wi-Fi: Traditional third places like cafés have evolved in response to the demand for connectivity. Wi-Fi access has turned these venues into hybrid spaces where people may engage in digital work or online conversations while physically sharing the space with others. For example, someone might sit in a café and participate in an online meeting while being surrounded by people doing the same, thus blending virtual and in-person interaction.
  • Smartphone Use in Physical Spaces: In third places such as parks, bars, or cafés, the use of smartphones has created a dual layer of interaction. People may be physically present in these spaces while simultaneously engaging in online conversations through messaging apps, social media, or video calls. This constant digital connection can, at times, diminish face-to-face interactions, but it also allows individuals to maintain multiple layers of social interaction (virtual and in-person) simultaneously.
  • Event Streaming and Digital Participation: Events that take place in physical third places, such as live music performances, talks, or meetups, are often streamed online or hosted simultaneously on platforms like Zoom or YouTube Live. This enables people who are not physically present to participate and engage with others attending virtually, creating a hybrid social environment. In this sense, third places are no longer confined to physical attendance; they now have digital extensions.
  • Augmented Reality (AR) and Virtual Reality (VR): Emerging technologies like AR and VR have started to blend the physical and virtual worlds even further. Apps like Pokémon GO, for instance, encourage people to go outside and interact with their physical environment while also engaging in a shared digital experience. In the future, VR environments could replicate the social dynamics of physical third places even more closely by creating immersive spaces where people can gather and interact with realistic avatars.

Changing Nature of Interaction

The move to digital third places has affected the nature and quality of social interactions. While online communities can provide valuable spaces for connection, they come with distinct differences compared to physical third places:

  • Anonymity and Pseudonymity: In many online communities, participants can remain anonymous or use pseudonyms, which can change the dynamics of social interaction. While this can encourage openness and honesty, it can also lead to superficial or less emotionally engaging interactions compared to the face-to-face connections fostered in traditional third places.
  • Global Scale: Online communities have no geographic boundaries, which allows people to interact with others from vastly different cultures and backgrounds. This is a significant expansion of Oldenburg’s concept, which was originally more localized. However, the global nature of online interaction can also mean that relationships in digital third places may lack the same depth and immediacy as local, physical third places.
  • Asynchronous Communication: Online third places often enable asynchronous communication, where participants don’t have to be online simultaneously to interact. Platforms like Reddit, email, or forums allow conversations to unfold over time, which differs from the real-time interactions in physical third places. This flexibility can be both a strength (as it accommodates people in different time zones) and a limitation (as it may lack the spontaneity of face-to-face exchanges).

Impact of Digital Third Places on Traditional Social Spaces

The rise of digital third places has led to some displacement of physical ones, but it has also enhanced the diversity of social spaces available to people:

  • Decline in Face-to-Face Interaction: With the ability to connect virtually, some people may feel less compelled to visit traditional third places. For example, rather than meeting friends at a local bar, individuals might prefer to socialize through a group video chat or online game, especially if those friends live far away.
  • Complementary Role of Digital Spaces: In some cases, digital third places complement rather than replace physical ones. For example, people might meet online in a Reddit group, then arrange in-person meetups at local venues, using the digital space as a tool to facilitate face-to-face interactions.
  • New Forms of Social Capital: Digital third places have given rise to new forms of social capital, particularly in online communities where trust and reputation are built through consistent interaction. Platforms like Reddit or gaming forums create a sense of belonging, where users establish identity and build relationships based on shared interests or goals, even though they may never meet in person.

While traditional physical third places still exist and remain essential, the rise of digital spaces has expanded and diversified where and how people engage in informal social interaction. These online and hybrid spaces meet many of the same needs as Oldenburg’s original concept – offering a sense of community, belonging, and unstructured conversation – while adapting to the realities of a more connected, yet geographically dispersed, modern world. Digital third places are not mere replacements for physical spaces but have become an integral part of the broader ecosystem of how humans connect and interact.


Low-Effort, High-Impact Neighborly Gestures

Let’s face it, life gets busy. Between work, family, and personal commitments, it can be challenging to find time for everything, let alone building strong neighborly relationships. But the good news is, fostering a great relationship with your neighbors doesn’t require a massive time commitment. Small, simple gestures can go a long way.

What if we took the time to get to know the people next to us and discovered that they aren’t so menacing after all? Perhaps we would find that the people on our block or floor are normal people just like us.

At the end of the day, they long for a place to belong, a place to be accepted and cared for.

Introduce Yourself – It might seem obvious, but simply introducing yourself to your neighbors can be a great starting point. A friendly hello, a brief conversation about the neighborhood, or even just exchanging names can lay the foundation for a positive relationship. You might be surprised how many people appreciate a warm welcome.

Share the Love (Literally) – Who doesn’t love a homemade treat? Baking is a classic way to show your appreciation. Whether it’s a batch of cookies, a loaf of bread, or a homemade jam, a small, delicious gift can be a wonderful icebreaker. It’s a simple gesture that can spark a conversation and create a positive impression.

Offer a Helping Hand – Small acts of kindness can go a long way. If you notice your neighbor struggling with groceries, offer to help carry them in. If you see their driveway needs shoveling after a snowstorm, lend a hand. These small gestures can make a big difference in someone’s day and strengthen your bond with your neighbor.

Mind Your Manners – Sometimes, the smallest actions can have the biggest impact. Be mindful of noise levels, especially during late hours. Respect shared spaces like sidewalks and lawns. These simple courtesies show that you care about your neighbors and their well-being.

Communicate Openly – If there’s an issue, address it directly and respectfully. Open communication is key to resolving conflicts and building trust. A friendly chat can often clear up misunderstandings and prevent larger problems from arising.

Remember, building strong neighborly relationships takes time and effort. But by incorporating these simple gestures into your daily life, you can create a more connected and supportive community without sacrificing too much of your own time. Small steps can lead to big rewards.

What are your favorite low-effort ways to connect with your neighbors? Share your tips in the comments below!


Check out these other “Good Neighbor Day” articles:

Coming Soon

  • 9/2 Family-Friendly Neighborly Activities
  • 9/9 Creating a Safer and Stronger Neighborhood Together
  • 9/16 Celebrating National Good Neighbor Day
  • 9/23 How to Celebrate National Good Neighbor Day in One Easy Step

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How to Have a Beautiful Day in Your Neighborhood

Celebrating National Good Neighbor Day September 28

National Good Neighbor Day is an annual observance in the United States that encourages people to build stronger relationships with their neighbors and foster a sense of community. 

Here’s a brief overview of its history and background:

The day was created by Becky Mattson, a resident of Lakeside, Montana, who came up with the idea in the early 1970s. She believed that good neighbors were vital to the strength and well-being of communities and wanted to create a day that would recognize and encourage neighborly relationships.

Mattson began promoting the idea locally and then expanded her efforts to gain wider recognition. She successfully lobbied for the day to be recognized in her home state of Montana.

Encouraged by the state-level success, Mattson launched a campaign to have the day recognized nationally and her efforts caught the attention of members of Congress, who supported the idea.

In 1978, Mattson’s work culminated in success when President Jimmy Carter issued Proclamation 4601, officially designating the fourth Sunday in September as “National Good Neighbor Day.” In his proclamation, Carter stated, “Understanding, love, and respect build cohesive families and communities.”

In 2003, the observance was moved to a fixed date of September 28th each year. National Good Neighbor Day is sponsored and managed by The Hopeful Neighborhood Project.

Mattson’s grassroots effort to promote neighborliness and community spirit is a testament to how individual citizens can influence national observances. Her initiative has since inspired many communities across the United States to organize events and activities that foster better relationships between neighbors.

National Good Neighbor Day aims to promote kindness, consideration, and understanding between neighbors, recognizing the importance of strong community bonds.

As National Good Neighbor Day approaches, communities across the nation are gearing up to celebrate the spirit of neighborliness. This annual observance offers a perfect opportunity to strengthen bonds and create a more vibrant, connected neighborhood.

Here are some inspiring ways you can participate and make a difference in your community:

Bring the Neighborhood Together – Nothing fosters community spirit quite like sharing a meal. Consider organizing a block party, community potluck, or barbecue in your local park. These gatherings provide an excellent chance for neighbors to mingle, share stories, and create lasting connections.

Lend a Helping Hand – Good Neighbor Day is all about kindness. Why not offer to help an elderly neighbor with yard work or home maintenance? Baking treats to share or offering to pet-sit for a neighbor going on vacation are simple yet meaningful gestures that can brighten someone’s day.

Improve Your Surroundings – Take pride in your neighborhood by initiating community improvement projects. Organize a neighborhood clean-up, plant trees, or start a community garden. These activities not only beautify your area but also give neighbors a chance to work together towards a common goal.

Foster Social Connections – Launch a neighborhood watch program to enhance safety, or start a book club to bring together literature lovers. Setting up a community bulletin board can keep everyone informed about local news and events, fostering a sense of community.

Welcome New Faces – Make newcomers feel at home by creating a welcome committee. Greet new residents with welcome baskets filled with local goodies and information about the neighborhood. Offering a guided tour of the area can help them feel more connected to their new home.

Share Your Skills – Everyone has something to offer. Host workshops where neighbors can share their expertise, whether it’s cooking, home repair, or gardening. Consider setting up a tool-lending library to promote resource sharing within the community.

Celebrate Diversity – Organize multicultural potlucks or cultural performances to celebrate the diversity in your neighborhood. These events can foster understanding and appreciation for different cultures and traditions.

Give Back Together – Coordinate charitable activities like food or clothing drives for local charities. Volunteering as a group at local non-profits not only helps those in need but also strengthens neighborhood bonds.

Promote Health and Wellness – Organize group fitness activities like neighborhood walks or yoga in the park. Hosting health awareness seminars can also contribute to the overall well-being of your community.

Go Green – Initiate environmental projects such as coordinating neighborhood recycling efforts or organizing energy conservation challenges. These activities can bring neighbors together while making a positive impact on the environment.

Engage Youth – Set up mentoring programs or organize youth sports leagues to involve younger residents in community activities. This can help foster a sense of belonging and responsibility among the next generation.

Embrace Technology – Create neighborhood social media groups or websites to improve communication. Organizing digital literacy classes for older residents can help bridge generational gaps and keep everyone connected.

National Good Neighbor Day reminds us that strong communities are built on simple acts of kindness and connection. By participating in these activities, you’re not just celebrating a day – you’re contributing to a more cohesive, supportive, and vibrant neighborhood all year round. So why wait? Reach out to a neighbor today and start planning how you’ll make this Good Neighbor Day on September 28 special for your community.


Welcoming Hygge Hospitality into Your Home


Hygge [HYOO-guh] has become a cultural buzzword. When many read about this Danish practicetheir shoulders lift in excitement, then fall in exhale. In a culture of rush, hygge appeals to their desire for rest – for slow living, shared moments, and fostered friendships. Hygge has strong ties to beauty, contentment, and well-being. It’s warm and inviting. Hygge is the opposite of hustle. It eschews abundance. It savors. It takes things slow and envelopes you in sanctuary. Hygge is home. When you sit in a comfy chair by the fire, that’s hygge. When you arrange a fresh bouquet of wildflowers on a bedside table, that’s hygge too. Candles, soft furnishings, natural light, fresh-baked pastries, intimate gatherings with friends – these are what come to mind when you think of hygge. But hygge can be so much more. 


In Holy Hygge, author Jamie Erickson unites the popular Danish practice with the deep, theological truths of the gospel. She unpacks the seven tenets of hygge: hospitality, relationships, well-being, atmosphere, comfort, contentment, and rest. In addition, Erickson shows how the external veneer of a lifestyle can create a life-giving home only when placed under the hope of the gospel. 

Holy Hygge provides practical ideas for using hygge to gather people and introduce them to faith in Christ. Each chapter concludes with discussion questions, Scripture references, and a prayer.


In recent years, the Danish concept of “hygge” (pronounced hoo-gah) has been embraced around the world as a way to cultivate coziness, contentment and enjoying life’s simple pleasures. While it doesn’t directly translate to English, hygge essentially means creating an atmosphere that fosters feelings of warmth, comfort and conviviality.

The hygge philosophy emphasizes cherishing ordinary, cozy moments – savoring a hot mug of tea, lighting candles, relaxing with loved ones, or enjoying nature’s beauty. It’s about being present and appreciated the small joys in life. As such, it’s a mindset perfectly suited for home hospitality.

Incorporating hygge into your home entertaining creates an enveloping embrace for guests, a simple charm that makes them feel at ease. It encourages true hosting from the heart, focused on developing connections rather than presenting a showpiece. Here are some ways to invite hygge’s special warmth into your home for visitors:

Ambiance Matters – Lighting is key for a hygge environment. Keep things softly illuminated with lamps, candles, and the flicker of a fireplace. Add plush textiles like chunky knit blankets, pillows and area rugs. Choose warm color schemes. Play low-key background music. All these elements create an aura of soothing coziness.

Nurture Nostalgia – Vintage, handcrafted or heirloom items spark feelings of nostalgia central to hygge. Incorporate them into your decor – grandma’s ceramic vase, that needlepoint pillow you made, or a restored antique dresser. Display old family photos. Offer homey treats like fresh bread or cookies. These comforting touches make guests feel sentimental and at home.

Be Present – The hygge mindset is about savoring each moment rather than stressing over hosting formalities. Tune out distractions like your phone. Talk, laugh and connect with guests on a genuine level. If you cook, embrace family-style meals around the table. Pour another glass of wine. Hygge values emotional warmth over perfection.

Share Experiences – Some of the best hygge experiences come from doing cozy activities together. Suggest a living room “hyggekrog” (nook) where everyone can lounge by the fire playing board games. Swap favorite book quotes and passages. String popcorn. Make hot toddies. These simple shareable moments create lasting hygge memories.

Ultimately, hygge home hospitality means prioritizing authenticity over artifice. It’s about helping guests feel cared for, comfortable and able to make meaningful memories. With its emphasis on simplicity, contentment and engagement, hygge offers a heartwarming path to making your next home gathering truly special.


In Holy Hygge, author Jamie Erickson combines the Danish concept of hygge – creating cozy, convivial atmospheres that cultivate well-being – with principles of Christian hospitality and community building. The book explores how embodying hygge’s values like simplicity, togetherness, and cherishing life’s small joys can help create warm, engaging spaces where people feel welcomed to gather, connect with each other, and allow the gospel message to take root.

Erickson provides ideas for hygge-inspired practices to incorporate into church communities, small groups, and homes. This includes suggestions for comfortable communal spaces using soft lighting, plush textiles, and vintage decor pieces. She also recommends ways to build hygge through shared experiences like cooking nourishing meals together, faith-based arts and crafts, hymn singing, and meaningful conversation.

Throughout the book, Erickson aims to help readers move beyond surface hospitality into fostering deeper interpersonal connections. By embracing hygge’s spirit of relaxed conviviality, she believes church groups and families can create fertile ground for exploring big spiritual questions, providing mutual support, and allowing the gospel to organically grow in people’s hearts.  

Erickson presents an appealing vision for creating intimate, engaged faith communities by channeling hygge’s distinctive warmth and “unhurriedness.” Her premise that the gospel can spread most authentically through such cozy, present-focused gatherings makes conceptual sense.   

Where the book hits some uneven patches is in awkwardly trying to merge hygge’s essence – which is largely about indulging in simple creature comforts and self-care – with Christian teaching’s emphasis on sacrifice, spiritual discipline, and focusing outward. Some of the recommendations for hygge spiritual practices like making warming beverages or relaxing by the fire can feel a bit disjointed from their intended higher purposes.

That said, Erickson’s enthusiasm for using hygge to build a welcoming sense of togetherness and facilitate deeper faith bonds shines through compellingly. Her suggestions for creating intimate, living room-style faith spaces and making time for unhurried, substantive group discussion provide an appealing alternative vision to typical gathering models.    

Overall, while the hygge-to-holy living synthesis isn’t fully seamless, Holy Hygge offers some inspiring, unconventional ideas for embodying the hospitality and communion core to Christian community life in new, more relaxed yet still meaningful ways. It’s a comfortingly distinctive take on “warmly abiding” together as believers.


Practical Hospitality: A Guide to Building Bridges in Your Church and Neighborhood

Your church – its members – can be viewed as islands without bridges. The “islands” are the homes, apartments, or condos of your members. Wherever they live, it will be all too easy and natural to want to retreat into themselves and spend their influence mostly on themselves and their families, isolated and disconnected from their neighbors across the street or down the hall.

They are often strangers to their own neighbors.

The secret weapon for gospel advancement that builds bridges is hospitality, and your church members can practice it whether you live in a house, a dorm, or a high-rise apartment.

Thinking like this requires viewing the home as primarily a weapon for the gospel before it is anything else. Biblical hospitality chooses to engage rather than unplug, open rather than close, initiate rather than sit idly.

During the early months of the pandemic in 2020, I worked with the Auxano team to develop this TeamUP eBook to introduce you to the possibility of leading you and your church to build bridges – from member’s homes to their neighbors – and it starts with you.

These bridges are the next step in the ongoing shift from a facility-focused ministry to one based in people’s homes.

In this TeamUP, you will find excerpts, practical ideas, and actions from some of the best practicers of this concept.

These seven ideas and accompanying actions have been highlighted to first raise your awareness in your own life, and then, as a leader, encourage your team or church to do the same in their own lives.

Bridges are born of practical necessity, an astonishing marriage of technology and art. Crossing an often imposing obstacle, they succeed in linking two parts, providing the opportunity for connection and conversation. Bridges are links; they connect people and communities.

It’s time for your church to use hospitality as a bridge to your neighbors.

Reading Between the Ears: Synoptical Reading, Leadership, and the Magic of Disney

Reading is a passion I treasure, and one that I am thankful my father instilled in me.

I love (and practice) the 4 different levels of reading as espoused by Mortimer Adler in his great book, How to Read a Book, but I really like to latch onto a topic and practice synoptical reading. Also known as comparative reading, it is where many books are read, and placed in relation to one another and to a subject about which they all revolve.

For many years, an ongoing topic of synoptical reading has been about Walt Disney (the man) and the “kingdom” he founded.

Under the watchful eye of Engineer Mickey, here’s my new stack of Disney reading that I’m kicking off 2024:

  • The Art of Walt Disney (Disney 100 Celebration Edition)
  • Disney Book of Maps: A Guide to the Magical Worlds of Disney Animation
  • Drawing 100 Years of Disney Wonder
  • The Disney Book (Disney 100 Edition)
  • Hyperion Historical Alliance Annual 2023
  • Disney 100 Storybook Collection
  • Disney, Culture, and Curriculum
  • Disneyland Historical Highlights: 1954-1972
  • The Mouse That Roared
  • Disney Magic: Business Strategy You Can Use at Work and Home

A wonderful collection of older books recently acquired, revised editions celebrating Disney’s 100th anniversary, and brand new works, these books will provide hours of amazing insight into the Disney story.

With these acquisitions, my Disney library is approaching 500 volumes, dating from 1939 to current releases – and I’m still actively researching the subject, regularly discovering new authors and books.

I get it, I really do. Some people think that using anything associated with Walt Disney and the company he created, as it exists today, to illustrate practices for leaders - especially church leaders -is wrong.

I respectfully disagree.

Churches need to look at sources of excellence in any area that can help them fulfill their mission and vision.

In the area of Hospitality and Guest Experiences, there are many great organizations that excel at customer service or guest services. Most of them learned it from a single source.

There is only one organization, in my opinion, that consistently delivers exceptional Guest Experiences, continually upping their game.

That organization is the Walt Disney Company.

Another objection I often hear: “Sure, Disney does a good job; they have a bazillion dollars to spend on keeping Guests happy.” Yes, they do – and I’ve contributed my own share to that bazillion!

But I encourage you to look beyond what you see to the PRINCIPLE behind the action or practice, and more often than not you will find something that you can apply in your organization.

In other words, Excellence Scales.

That’s why I’m reading these books!

#wednesdayweeklyreader #disney #books #bookstagram #reading


Part of a regular series on 27gen, entitled Wednesday Weekly Reader.

During my elementary school years one of the things I looked forward to the most was the delivery of “My Weekly Reader,” a weekly educational magazine designed for children and containing news-based, current events.

It became a regular part of my love for reading, and helped develop my curiosity about the world around us.

How to Help Your Church Live Sent in the Place They Call Home

Not so long ago, neighbors generally kept their doors open to one another. Smaller houses seemed less confining, because the more porous divisions between homes – separated not by doors of wood or steel but by “screen doors” – encouraged socializing with neighbors.

An essential ingredient in community formation is dying out: the strong relational ties that are built when we let our guard down with each other, when we claim common space as an appropriate forum for conversation, play, and eating.

I used to think hospitality was a lost art. Now I’m convinced it is a lost heart.

Leonard Sweet

I want to introduce you to the possibility of leading your church to build bridges with hospitality – from member’s homes to their neighbors.

These bridges are the next step in the ongoing shift from a facility-focused ministry to one based in people’s homes.

Think of it as shifting:

  • From your buildings to their blocks
  • From your campus to their cul-de-sac
  • From in person to in the neighborhood

Why not encourage and equip your members to BE the church in their neighborhoods TODAY, before asking them to BRING their neighbors to church in the future?

Watch the video replay of How to Help Your Church Live SENT in the Place They Call Home. You will learn about the spaces, places, and graces that will help your church become bridge builders to their neighbors. I unpack these three words with ideas, examples, and tools to help your church BE the church where they live.

To help you get the most out of the video, download this Listening Guide prior to watching the video, then work along with it to develop your own “bridges” in your neighborhood.


 How Can I Help My Church Learn to See Their Mission Field Starts Across the Street or Down the Hall?

Love your neighbors – not the neighbors you pick out, but the ones you have.

Wendell Berry

Is this a common sight in the neighborhoods of your community?

  • Empty front porches
  • Closed garage doors
  • Lifeless front yards
  • Silent encounters in the halls

Unfortunately, this is the norm in all too many neighborhoods.

Does your neighborhood lack neighborliness?

Maybe it’s time to see the mission field right across the street with a clear vision to serve “the neighbors you have.”

If you wear glasses or contacts, you’ve probably gone through the adjustment period of seeing with clear vision because of new lenses. Seeing things you’ve not seen before, seeing a little too clearly, can give you a headache.

When you begin to look at your neighborhood with a clear vision that these are your neighbors and you have been called to love them, you may have the same feelings.

It’s time to offer your lives to your neighbors, beyond the everyday, incidental encounters of taking out the trash cans or walking your dog.

This issue of SUMS Remix looks at solutions that will help you learn to connect to a place and the people who live in it. The solutions include: 

Adopt a framework for neighboring

Begin a journey that turns good intentions into actions

Change the world without changing your routine