5.29--Dirty Feet Evangelism Part 2: Welcome

Two weeks ago, we talked about how we are called to be dirty feet evangelists. We talked about how we are called to go out into the world and share the Good News of Christ’s victory over sin and death with everyone we meet. We talked about how this is the true work of the church in the world, a work that was commissioned by Jesus Christ Himself as Saint Matthew records at the end of his Gospel. We talked about how the church is defined by this and should be known by this—that true work of the church is not found in the budgets, or membership, or style of worship, or the building, but is instead found in the authentic outpouring of God’s love and grace into the world. And we talked about how this call means that we must get up out of our pews and into the world, where we cannot be afraid to get our feet a little dirty.

This week, we are going to continue the conversation. We’re going to talk about what happens once we have gone out into the world and have invited people to the church.

Mary Lou was the cashier at our on-campus dining hall my freshman through junior year of college. She is a sweet old lady who always wore a smile on her face and shared a warm greeting with you as you entered the building. No matter what kind of mood you found yourself in when you were walking to Hein Dining Hall, you could not help but smile when you saw Mary Lou. She had a charisma to her, a magnetism that one could not help but be drawn in. And Mary Lou knew everyone’s name by the second week of the fall semester.

I do not know how she did it. She could easily see hundreds, sometimes over a thousand different faces every day, and yet every time she met a student’s eye, she was able to recall his or her name. She genuinely cared for all of her students, and she loved each one of us and knew us by name.

Now, I do not know how many of you know this by now, but my first name is not Wes. It is Klinton. And, as on every valid ID, my student ID had my first name on it. So Mary Lou knew me as Klinton. Outside of my family and some old family friends, she is the only person since 5^th grade to call me by my first name. Once she knew it, I didn’t have the heart to correct her, because it meant so much to me that she took the time to learn not only my name but everyone else’s as well. It meant so much, in fact, that I would eat at the dining hall more for that brief moment talking with Mary Lou than I would for the food itself. She made me feel welcomed. She made me feel loved.

Mary Lou was as much an evangelist in my life than anyone else,  Mary Lou taught me what it means to be an inviting and loving person. She taught me the importance of knowing peoples’ names, and the importance of everyone’s need to have someone that genuinely cares about what is going on in life. She taught me how to be welcoming.

This is a vital part of what it means to be a dirty feet evangelist. God calls us to be a church that is welcoming, inviting, and accommodating to all.

Scripture is replete with calls to be welcoming, hospitable, to entertain the stranger. In Deuteronomy, Moses reminds the Israelites of the need to welcome the alien into their midst because they themselves were once aliens in a foreign country. And just as God delivered them from a place of captivity and oppression, so God yearns for all creation to move from “stranger” to “friend” or “citizen.”

The author of Hebrews urged the people of God to “Keep on loving one another as brothers and sisters. Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it.” This allusion to the Genesis story of Abraham welcoming and sharing bread with messengers from God is a wonderful reminder of the need to be an individual or a church who is seeking out ways to welcome the other.

Even our Gospel lesson, one of the resurrection accounts from Luke, touches on the subject of being welcoming. Jesus appears to two of his disciples as they are sadly walking down the road from Jerusalem to Emmaus. They do not recognize Jesus, though. Jesus starts up a conversation with them; they tell him what has happened recently in Jerusalem, and he then explains why the Son of Man had to die and why they should have believed in the resurrection. They had a chance to leave him, then, and part ways, but instead they urged him to stay with them, probably sharing with the bare meal that they were able to buy with their meager money made fishing or the like. And during this time together, as they get to know this stranger better, their eyes are opened and they realize for the first time since they met the man that He was Jesus the Christ.

When we are welcoming, when we show love to the stranger, God opens our eyes and shows us amazing things. For these two disciples, God revealed to them the Risen Christ. For others, the revelation might be different. In Acts 10, God revealed to Peter in a dream that all seekers are worthy of Christ’s love and all are worthy of being disciples, not just those with Jewish heritage. A chapter earlier, God revealed the same thing to Philip through his encounter with an Ethiopian eunuch who was struggling to understand Scripture. In each instance, a revelation occurred when the faithful person was willing to be welcoming.

 This should be especially in the Untied Methodist Churches since our slogan is “Open Hearts, Open Minds, Open Doors.” Being welcoming is supposed to be in our DNA; it is supposed to be who we are as a church.

But how welcoming are we? How ready are we to invite the stranger into our pews and engage in Christian hospitality? As a church, are we welcoming to those we encounter in life, to those who seek us out?

I remember the first time I visited a church by myself as a teenager. I had driven an hour down the road to hear one of my friends preach at his church’s youth Sunday service, and I was very excited about being there with him. As I pulled into the parking lot, though, I realized that I had no idea where the sanctuary was. I walked up to a door and pulled, only to find it locked. I tried another one. Same problem. Finally, I decided to try following a flow of people who were moving toward the building, but it turned out that they were going to a different service in a different part of the church building. Finally, I had to ask someone where I needed to be. The gentleman that I asked seemed put out by me, like I was bothering him, but he was kind enough to point me in the right direction. Once I found the Sanctuary, I walked in and sat down in an empty pew in the back. I had completely missed the bulletins on my way in and had to go back out into the narthex to pick one up. In the 30 seconds that it took me to go, grab a bulletin, and come back, a family had not only occupied my seat but had moved my Bible, keys, and sunglasses to the end of the pew so that it was not in their way.

I sat and listened to my friend preach and I participated in the service, but I never once felt welcomed there. No one introduced himself or herself to me during the greeting part of the service. No one shook my hand on my way in our out of the building. No one other than my friend acknowledged me at all. And this church had huge banners on the walls reading “Open Hearts,” “Open Minds,” and “Open Doors.” No one in the church seemed to be living this out, though.

How do you answer the call to be welcoming in your life or in this church? When we have a visitor, what is his or her impression of you? Of us? Are we showing them the love of the God who loved them enough to die and live again for them? Or are we so wrapped up in our own times of worship and talking to our own loved ones that they tend to go unnoticed?

How are you living out Christ’s call to be welcoming?

I pray that when people come to our church, they might have a Mary Lou experience with us. I pray that our doors, our hearts, and our hands will be open to them. And I pray that through our actions, the stranger, the alien, the visitor will be drawn closer to Christ.

Amen.