The Concierge
Dave Faust
While staying in a hotel in Phoenix, I needed some photocopies of a document for a meeting I was leading. When I asked the attendant at the front desk for the location of the nearest copy machine, she said, "Just ask the concierge. He will be glad to help you." Five minutes later I had my copies, free of charge.
Truth is, most times when I stay in a hotel, I pay little attention to the concierge. I like to handle my own travel arrangements, carry my own luggage, park my own car. As much as I can, I like to be a do-it-yourself traveler. And besides, since I don't speak French there was a time when I wasn't certain how to pronounce "concierge." Better to avoid this person altogether than to sound foolish and unsophisticated!
Exactly what is a concierge, anyway? Is that just a fancy name for a bellhop? The dictionary says concierge comes from a Latin term meaning "fellow slave." A concierge functions as a doorkeeper, mail handler, and representative of the hotel's owner—an all-around helper. Need a taxi? The concierge will call one for you. Need to find a good restaurant? The concierge will advise you. Need to store a valuable item in the hotel safe? The concierge will assist you.
"Fellow slave." Come to think of it, that's not a bad way to describe a Christian. I think the apostle Paul would have liked this concept. He often referred to himself and his Christian friends as "fellow laborers" and "bondslaves" of Christ.
I guess I do know how to pronounce concierge after all. It's pronounced "servant."
There are two ways to see ourselves in life. We can view ourselves as pampered guests who expect others to meet our every need and make us comfortable. Or we can see ourselves as servants who cheerfully carry others' burdens, help them find important information, and make sure they have what they need for the journey.
Peter wrote, "Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling. Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God's grace in its various forms" (1 Peter 4:9-10). As the word suggests, "hospitality" means turning our homes into "hospitals"—places of healing and rest. Treating others as honored guests, we serve one another in love, without grumbling.
Preparing to check out of the hotel, I approached the front desk to turn in my keys. The man behind the desk smiled and said, "If you can wait a few minutes, someone will be here soon to check you out. The desk clerk needed to go to the restroom, and I'm just standing in until he gets back."
"That's fine," I replied. I recognized the face of this willing and helpful servant.
He was the concierge.
This column first appeared in The Lookout on Oct 3, 2004.
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