From The Rector:
The Life-Changing and Holy Power of Welcome
I'm sure that all of us can look back at our lives and recognize key turning points, moments of significant change, times that set us off in a new and different direction. Of course, sometimes these moments are unhappy ones: the loss of a job, the rupture of a relationship, a frightening diagnosis, or the death of one we love. Fortunately, we are sometimes blessed with joyful moments like falling in love, making a new friend, experiencing physical or emotional healing, finding meaningful and satisfying work, helping someone in need, and discovering a place that quickly feels like home. Sue and I have been blessed with that gift more than once.
About 20 years ago, one of my teaching colleagues invited Sue and me to her church. That church was St. Paul's Episcopal Church, conveniently located just a few blocks from our house in Jersey City. We accepted the invitation because I liked my colleague, and we were curious about this architecturally interesting building, which has the incongruous look of an English country church on a side street in the city. And, maybe without even admitting it to ourselves, we went to this old church because we were hungry for some good spiritual food.
So, that Sunday (by the way, it was the Second Sunday of Advent, the holy season of preparation), we walked through the church doors, stepping into the unknown. Without knowing it, we reached one of the most momentous milestones of our lives. We were greeted warmly by the ushers and took our seats. When the service began, we followed along in the bulletin, prayer book, and hymnal as best we could. I spent most of the service looking and listening, awed by the beautiful building, impressed by the congregation's diversity, and dazzled by the choir's talent. But, the key moment was the Exchange of Peace. Honestly, it seemed like everyone was out in the aisle greeting one another, genuinely happy to see fellow parishioners. Sue and I were surprised and uncertain, not sure if we should (or, frankly, if we wanted to) join in the exuberant celebration. As we stood awkwardly, shyly half-waving to the people around us, the church's rector came down the aisle and stopped at our pew. He extended his hand and said, "Hi, I'm Dave. Welcome to St. Paul's."
That moment changed my life in ways I could have never imagined back on that memorable Advent Sunday. Sue and I returned the following Sunday, and on most of the hundreds of Sundays that followed. "Dave" (The Rev. Canon Dr. David Hamilton) became and has remained a close friend and cherished mentor. His welcome, and the congregation's embrace, gave us a taste of what an authentic Christian community can and should be. Dave's common touch and honesty, especially his unflinching willingness to share his own struggles, reawakened in me a call to ordained ministry. For Sue and me, our simple but profound encounter with the Body of Christ that day set in motion a meandering chain of events that later brought me back to St. Paul’s as rector, and eventually led us here to St. Thomas' and the exciting new chapter we are beginning together.
These past few weeks, your warm welcome of us has reminded me of that long-ago welcome at St. Paul's. So many of you have extended your hands, introducing yourselves (and, yes, often reintroducing yourselves!). You have given us beautiful and thoughtful gifts and invited us into your homes and lives. You have shared your insights and recommendations about this community and have offered to help us with "anything." It really has been something else – yet another beautiful milestone in our lives.
We all know that the ongoing pandemic has changed so much about how we "do church." Fear of spreading or catching disease prevents many of us from being as expressive and outgoing as we might want. And, although sadly necessary, wearing masks again certainly makes it more challenging to greet one another and particularly hard to identify people who might be new to our community. But, just about every Sunday of my ministry, including my first few unmasked and masked weeks here with you, when I've said, "The peace of the Lord be always with you," I've remembered Dave making his way down the aisle, reaching out his hand to us and changing our lives forever. And, even in – especially in – this time of anxiety and uncertainty, I pray that we never forget the simple but profound act of greeting a stranger in church: the life-changing and holy power of welcome.
Posts
