All Are Welcome. No Exceptions
Dear friends,
As we move into the summer months at St. John’s, I am reminded of the number of people who cross the threshold of our front gates every year to visit our historic church from near and far (about 30,000 per year). They come on foot or in cars, on tour busses or in school busses. Some are locals, others live abroad, some are retired, some are students, some have strollers and young children, others have backpacks and cameras. Some are just here to learn about our historical significance, others want to worship with us and experience our religious and spiritual life.
Needless to say, St. John’s is a place of welcome. And while this may not have been true for those who were marginalized in the earlier years of our colonial and confederate history, my hope is that today, we are becoming a place where all people feel they belong. Which raises the question: what does it mean to be welcoming, when “welcome” feels very different for people from different nations and ethnicities, gender identities and religious affiliations, political parties and social worldviews?
In our gospel reading for this Sunday, Jesus says: “Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.” How much easier can this be? Welcome, and be welcomed. This is how we welcome God. And apparently for Jesus, this is what “religion” is intended to be—not a set of moral codes or rules, nor an institution that requires fees or feats in order to be forgiven or accepted. Holy Welcome is the religion of seeing each other, the religion of come on in, there’s room. This religion listens long and deep. When it speaks it says, “You belong. Stay awhile. You are wanted here.”
In the words of one writer, “to be a sign of welcome is to care for others seriously, but not to take ourselves too seriously.” As I’ve pondered this, it completely rewires my understanding of what it means to be the “perfect host” – one that isn’t perfectionistic, but is fully present. This can, of course, be challenging when we don’t know much at all about who we are trying to welcome. It’s hard to open the door to the unknown. In response, Jesus says, “why not let children teach you? They already understand all you need to know. Even the smallest of offerings exchanged with the smallest of persons are much bigger than you imagine.” You can do it—Welcome, welcome, welcome!
As this summer unfolds, let’s take Jesus’ words to heart, and "welcome him" in every person we greet with the curious and openhearted generosity of a little child.
In Christ,
Amelie+
