Sunday, September 1, 2013

Welcome


I’m being welcomed back to many places this week. Concordia. The music department. My multiple workplaces. To new apartments and dorms. To the Land of the Healthy People after having bronchopneumonia for two weeks. But I felt the full-on hugging feeling of welcome most when I went to church this morning.

Usually I go with a group of friends, but this time I went on my own. I scanned the sanctuary to see if there were any other students or people that I knew. Nope. But wait! I saw Lyle! He’s a kind, older gentleman that introduced himself to me and my friends our first year, showing us his Class of ’59 ring, and ever since then I’ve run into him and his wife at church, chapel services on campus, and even at the coffee shop. When I played piano for chapel last year, he would always say, “I don’t remember your name, but I’m looking forward to hearing you play that piano again!”
It’s been quite a few months since I'd seen him, and since he doesn't always remember names, and I recently cut off 18 inches of my hair, I sat down next to him expecting him not to recognize or remember me. Which made it all the more touching when he shook my hand and said, “It’s good to see you again! You must be in your third year now? I’m looking forward to hearing you play piano again!”

One of the readings today was from Hebrews 13:2, which I felt fit my situation perfectly: “Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing so some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it.” No matter how much of a community I have built for myself here, I always have an underlying feeling of being the stranger. I’m not claiming to be an angel. But I’m thankful for the people who have reminded me that I am not a stranger, that I am always welcome.

One thing I'm sure of in life is that there are lonely people in this world. Sometimes I’m one of them. What I wonder is, how can I be the one to welcome in the stranger? Why is it so hard for us, not only to be the welcomer, but also sometimes to even accept being brought to the table?
Why can’t we all be like Lyle? 

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