All Are Welcome

SCRIPTURE TEXT:  Psalm 133, Rev. Monte Marshall, Senior Pastor

The late Catholic priest and author, Henri Nouwen, once wrote that “In our world full of strangers, estranged…from their neighbors, friends and family, from their deepest self and their God, we witness a painful search for a hospitable place…where community can be found.”[1]

To put it another way, the search Nouwen describes is for a place to call home.  This is our focus for the next five weeks:  A Place to Call Home.

“In our world full of strangers,” it is not unusual to hear the words: “You are not welcome here.  This place is not your home.”

For example, in September of last year, the mayor of a southern French city showed up at a shantytown where many immigrants lived.  Flanked by armed police officers and members of his staff, he went from one apartment to another, “repeatedly telling Syrian immigrants: “You are not welcome in this city.”  This mayor had been elected to office in 2014 “with the support of France’s right-wing, anti-immigrant party, the National Front.”  A month before this incident, the leader of the National Front “recommended that governments return refugees ‘to their homes, even to war-torn countries.’”[2]  Unfortunately, there’s a lot of this kind of thing going on in the world today, including in the United States.  And much of it is driven by fear.

But now imagine a different response: “All are welcome here!  So why not call this place your home?”  As followers of Jesus, it might be helpful to remember Paul’s counsel to the Christians in Rome: “Welcome one another, therefore, just as Christ has welcomed you.”[3] 

And a welcoming response is certainly consistent with the spirit of Psalm 133.  The psalm begins: “See how good, how pleasant it is for God’s people to live together as one.”

Scholars tell us that this psalm was most likely sung by pilgrims as they made their way to Jerusalem and toward the temple for worship.  As one commentator notes, the phrase “See how good, how pleasant it is” recalls “the exclamation of blessing uttered by a traveler or visitor upon entering the home of another in ancient Israel.”[4]

These pilgrims are identified as “God’s people.”  They’re not just blood relatives, but a diverse mix of people who are seeking a place of welcome—a place to call home.  They’re seeking “to live together as one.”  James Mays writes that Psalm 133 “is a witness that God [is] at work building a family that transcends all the given and instituted barriers that separate and diminish life.”[5]  The aim, of course, is unity.   

And as Elizabeth Conde-Frazier reminds us, the path toward unity is paved with hospitality—a hospitality that says, “All are welcome here!”  She notes that “Hospitality creates a place where we are connected to one another.  It is a place of respect, acceptance, and friendship.  It offers attentive listening and mutual sharing of lives and life stories.”[6]

Zion, in this text, symbolizes “home.”   Zion as a place of welcome—of hospitality—of blessing.  As Andre Resner puts it:  Zion is the “designated place of blessing” but with a deeper meaning that extends beyond the limits of “a physical site.”  For Resner, “God’s blessing resides wherever [this] unified, caring community exists.”[7]

The psalm portrays this blessing in two ways:  first, as precious oil being poured out on the head of Aaron and running down his beard and onto the collar of his robes; and second, as the dew of Mount Hermon, falling on the hills of Zion.”  According to Nancy Koester, this blessing imagined in liquid form, “begins at one very particular summit”—the summit of Zion— “and cascades downward from there.  It starts with a few insiders but flows outward in blessing for many.”[8]

Finally, the psalmist makes clear that when people live together as one, Yahweh bestows the gift of life.  And because Yahweh is the source of this gift—it’s “life that never ends.”

Now it seems to me that when people live in a spirit of hospitality, and say words like “All are welcome here!” and “Why not call this place your home?”—amazing things are possible that affirm for us the power of living together as one.             

A case in point:  Fifteen years ago today, on the morning of September 11, 2001, Delta Airlines Flight 15 was on its way across the Atlantic Ocean from Frankfurt, Germany to Atlanta, Georgia when the captain received an urgent message.  The message simply said: “All airways over the continental United States are closed.  Land ASAP at the nearest airport, advise your destination.”

The flight crew had no way of knowing the horrors taking place in New York City, Washington, D. C. and rural Pennsylvania as the navigator searched for an airport large enough to accommodate the jumbo jet.

He determined that Gander, on the island of New Foundland, some 400 miles behind them, was their best option.  A quick request for landing approval was granted by Canadian air traffic control.

Once on the ground, Delta 15’s crew discovered that they were among 53 aircraft from all over the world which had landed at Gander.  This sleepy little village of 10,400 people all of a sudden had 10,500 visitors drop out of the sky!

As details of the events in the US became known to the crew of Delta 15 and then to their 218 passengers, a sense of shock, bewilderment and total emotional exhaustion set in.

But then, something amazing happened.  With the help of the Canadian Red Cross, the citizens of Gander and other small communities within a 75-kilometer radius leaped into action.  In each town, schools were closed and their gymnasiums, along with meeting halls, lodges and any other large gathering places, were turned into temporary dormitories.

The passengers of Delta 15 ended up in Lewisporte, about 45 kilometers from Gander.  Many found arrangements at the local high school, but the elderly passengers were not given a choice.  They were taken into private homes.  A young woman who was 33 weeks pregnant was lodged in another private residence across the street from a 24-hour Urgent Care facility.

Doctors and nurses were on call for anyone who needed their assistance, telephone calls and e-mails to the US and Europe were available each day.  Food was prepared and brought to the school for those who elected to stay put while other passengers were driven to the restaurants of their choice and fed.

In short, every single need of these unfortunate travelers was met.  Through selfless acts of hospitality and kindness extended to strangers, the people of Gander and the surrounding area changed what could have been a miserable, depressing three days of captivity into 72 hours that no one on Delta 15 is likely to forget. In fact, when the passengers of Delta 15 came back on board to complete their flight to Atlanta, many were in tears because they didn’t want to leave. 

But there’s more to the story.  Once the passengers were on board the plane for the resumption of their flight, a doctor from Virginia flying in business class approached the flight attendant and asked if he could speak over the PA system to the rest of the passengers.  Even though this is never allowed, something told the flight attendant to get out of the way and let the man speak.

The man picked up the microphone and reminded everyone about what they had just gone through and about the wonderful hospitality they had received at the hands of total strangers.

He then said that he wanted to do something special for the people of Lewisporte.  He said that he was going to set up a trust fund in the name of Delta 15 to provide scholarships for the kids of Lewisporte to help them go to college.

He passed around a sign-up sheet--and when it got back to him there were pledges of $14,500.  The gentleman promised to match the donations and start setting up the trust fund.  All of this simply because some people in a faraway place were kind to a group of strangers who just happened to drop in among them from out of the sky![9]

At Travis Park United Methodist Church, we make a point of saying: “All are welcome here!”  And the invitation is always extended: “So why not make this place your home?”  As a result, some pretty amazing things happen around here. 

But it’s not time to rest on our laurels.  The challenge is always before us to do an even better job of putting our words into action.  So in the spirit of Psalm 133, and in light of the extraordinary 9/11 witness just shared, I’m wondering:  What more can we do?  May God help us practice what we preach!  Amen.