Years ago, Kim and I went out to the store to buy a door mat. We looked around at all the options. I argued that it was essential for us to have a mat that says “Welcome.” You know, just in case someone might think we are not welcoming people, our mat would assure them of our good intentions.
But that’s not enough, is it? Having a mat at my door that says “welcome” is like having a sign in my kitchen that says “clean.” It’s a nice thought, but will words actually get it done?
Are words enough?
Every Sunday I stand in the pulpit and say the word “Welcome” to everyone in the room and everyone watching our livestream. Every Sunday we have someone posted at the parking lot door to welcome each person that comes in. Friendly individuals in our congregation will always make the effort to find the folks who may be here for the first time, or who haven’t been here for a while and offer them a warm welcome. All these things are essential. But are they enough? If we have told people they are welcome here, is our job done?
Paul’s letter to the Romans speaks of the importance of welcome. He is encouraging the Jewish Christians, the first Christians, to welcome others – those who are not Jewish. As we have spoken of before many times, this was a major conflict in the early church. The believers needed to argue and pray and discuss the matter extensively to come to a new understanding about what Jesus was doing in the world; about who could claim his promise.
Paul makes a strenuous argument that Christ’s promise is for all the nations of the world, that all may sing praises to his name, that the whole world might glorify God. Paul urges the members of the church to welcome others, just as Christ has welcomed them. To offer this welcome – not for the sake of manners, but for the glory of God.
If we are to embrace the welcome of Christ, and to further extend that welcome to others – all the nations, as Paul says – then we must understand something about this kind of welcome, a Christian welcome.
The best image of such a welcome is found in the classic story of Victor Hugo – Les Miserables. Jean Valjean, a poor and miserable man who lives with his sister and her seven children in abject poverty. Until one day when they are no longer able to eke out a living, he shatters the window of the bakery, grabs a loaf of bread and runs. He is caught and sentenced to prison for four years. After a few unsuccessful attempts at escape, his sentence is extended to 19 years. 19 years in prison for a broken window and a loaf of bread.
When he is released he finds his way to the home of a priest – Monseigneur Bienvenu. The priest welcomes him. He breaks bread with him, listens to him, and gives him a bed for the night. Jean Valjean doesn’t know what to do with such kindness. Nineteen years in prison have drained his humanity from him. During the night, Jean Valjean slips out of the house with the priest’s silverware. He is caught by the police.
In the morning, Monseigneur Bienvenu is summoned to the door to find the man whom he welcomed into his home the night before, in the hands of the police, looking ever so much the criminal. But the priest sees a sacred human being. He says, “I am glad to see you. But I gave you the candlesticks too. Why did you not take them along with the forks and the spoons? My friend, here are the candlesticks. Take them.”
The priest, with his extravagant welcome, gave Jean Valjean a chance at new life. “Use this now to become an honest man,” says the priest, Monseigneur Bienvenu – which, of course, means welcome.
The welcome of Christ sees the sacred that is within everyone. This welcome accepts each one as they are and is ready to give what is needed.
It’s not a low bar. Not a wide path.
Perhaps we can wonder: In what ways have we failed to recognize the sacred that dwells in every human being? Who are the ones we have neglected to invite into our midst? When has our welcome been less than Christian?
In a world crying out for peace, for compassion, we are all in a wilderness, as John the Baptist proclaims. Our paths are in need of straightening. Our fruits are not always evident. But as John makes clear, it is not too late for repentance, because God is able to change everything.
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Photo by Marissa Daeger on Unsplash
