A culture of welcome

We live our belief through the lens of our experience. Because of our past, we may find religion comforting or discomforting. We may find ritual affirming, or it may occur for us as a dreary grind. What we notice in our religious observance generally falls into categories, and we dwell on one aspect, which may be a different aspect than what someone else dwell on. In the simplest example, some people find in the risen Christ, the king and judge, and others find in Him the gentle friend. Some notice majesty; some notice radical humility.

I was very affected by my time in the Episcopal community through St. John the Divine. For many years, I was an usher for the congregation, and for the large important ceremonies, we would have an orientation. One topic that has stayed with me all these years was the head of security there discussing how to deal with potentially dangerous people. (In the years after 9/11/2001, the Cathedral was on the top ten list of potential bombing targets, so we were to be extra vigilant.)

Despite the potential for danger, we were urged to be mindful of our primary mission of welcome.

How amazing is that! First, we are to love and welcome. Always, we are to love and welcome the stranger and the friend.

But shouldn't that be obvious? Why does it need to be said at all? Because it doesn't happen everywhere all the time, not there, not anywhere.
What gets in our way? Why isn't that obvious? Why was that something that stands out?

Sometimes we -- and by we I mean those of us who are active in our religious community -- are thinking about our private concerns. We are sad, preoccupied, anxious, angry.

Sometimes we don't feel we have the power to do something. We think, "Who am I to .....?" We don't feel worthy or entitled.

Sometimes we do not want to intrude.

Sometimes we want to perfect our own devotions.

But Jesus went off to pray for those devotions. When He was with others, He was fully present to them, available and powerful.

We should be too.

In the kind of urban congregation I am familiar with, I don't know everyone, and in fact, people are transient, visiting sometimes for a week, for a month. The faces I have seen for years stand out, even when we have not spoken, because there are so many different ones.

So, how to create a culture of welcome? 

We had a pastor who hosted what he called symposiums, light refreshments with wine and talk. We talked, in generosity and friendship about whatever topic piqued is interest. We had another pastor who created regular parish barbecues and picnics. Some individuals in the parish continually smile at strangers. I think of a long-since-moved-away parishioner named Eugene whose beaming smile still pleases me to remember.He epitomized joy and welcome.

My resolve today: be welcome. In church and elsewhere. Make it alive.