
“Welcome. I have been waiting for you!” As greetings go, that is much better than something like “Stop, in the name of law,” but they were startling words just the same. Especially when the person introduced himself as Angel. For a moment, it seemed like the beginning of one of those groaner jokes where a person asked the pastor if there would be golf in heaven. The pastor responds, “Well I have good news and bad news. The good news is yes, there is golf in heaven. The bad news is that you have a noon tee time tomorrow.” I wasn’t in the market for any heavenly pronouncements, angelic or otherwise.
“Welcome. I have been waiting for you” were the first words heard spoken to me as I made my way in an unfamiliar place looking for a seat that satisfied my criteria – things like near the end of the row, sufficient leg room, and slightly at an angle to the speaker. The voice calling to me was clear but unfamiliar. As I stopped to turn and locate its source, I discovered that the face of the speaker was unknown to me as well. A pleasant smile and direct eye contact persuaded me to pause and respond to the greeting.
The location for this encounter was a United Methodist Church where my wife was the speaker for the morning, filling in while the pastor was away. I presumed the one welcoming us was assisting with the morning service and meant that he had been waiting so he could communicate the necessary information to Judi. However, that wasn’t the case at all.
Turns out, he has been waiting for everybody, not just me! Angel takes it upon himself to greet Sunday morning arrivals, especially those whom he does not know. If you didn’t pass by his location when you entered, he would track you down across the other side of the room. Thanks to that additional piece of knowledge, I felt a little less special at that point, but spent much of the next hour musing over what it meant to be welcomed by an angel. In biblical stories, messengers like that usually are delivering big news – life altering information that is not always initially welcomed. In my case, it was a simple greeting rather than a major mission. Plus, how much fun is it to tell people the next day that you were greeted by an angel at church?
I have returned to that setting on a few occasions. Each time, an Angel greets me. By now it is clear that this is more than a Sunday morning assignment for him. Greeting with welcome and goodwill are integral parts of how he engages the world. He once shared with me that some days he likes to walk the aisles of the local Wal Mart and pass out compliments to total strangers. I fear I’d make a wisecrack like, “My, that’s a lovely pair of pajamas you’re wearing today.” Fortunately, he is better-suited for this activity. He sees other things – “Your hair looks nice today.” Or “I like the way your eyes sparkle when you smile.” He is adding a whole new dimension to the concept of a Wal Mart greeter, only he doesn’t even work there. The surprise his comments create and the smiles he receives in return are their own reward.
Conversations with Angel remind me of the lasting impact that a sincere welcome can have on the receiver. It makes me recall a visit I made in 1991 after the move to Indiana. I had been asked to speak at a small, rural Quaker meeting that was in need of a pastor. I arrived early rather than run the risk of getting lost in the Hoosier countryside and not arriving until the close of the service. Sunday School was still in session when I entered the building, so I took a random seat in an empty pew and waited. I was the only person in the room. No other seat was occupied except the one in which I was sitting. There were plenty of spaces available for others when they arrived. A few minutes later, a person burst through the door at the front of the room. I still recall her red hair and the lime green color of her dress. She made a beeline in my direction. I assumed she intended to welcome me as a visitor or give me guidance about my role as the morning’s speaker. Instead, she wiped the smile right off my face with her opening words which were, “You are sitting in my seat.” No smile. No joy. No interest. As welcomes go, that wasn’t one!
What accounts for the difference between the two? One made space and invited me in; the other sought to move me out of an area she claimed as her own. One acted as though he wanted to know me; the other appeared disinterested in my presence and reason for being there. One acted with purpose; the other reacted to a surprise perceived as an intrusion. I can’t know all the details that might have influenced the two different responses, but I can testify to their effect on the stranger in their midst.
At the heart of the matter is the question of hospitality. It begins with a good greeting that conveys the power and warmth of welcomeness. It involves simple things like attentiveness, accompanied by a smile or eye contact. It is enhanced by polite words, and on some occasions, even an appropriate touch like a handshake, a hug, or a hand on the shoulder. But it is also more than just those things. A hospitable welcome rests upon a foundation of optimism and a disposition of kindness that, together, anticipate a positive encounter with the other. It comes with a curiosity to know what or who stands before you and to hear their story before deciding how to respond to them. That kind of reception can be utterly disarming because one is so grateful to be welcomed as you are into that moment and that space. The warmth of a good welcome makes it easy to respond with graciousness of our own. It is often the first step toward lasting and meaningful friendships. While hospitality was said to be a cornerstone of social engagement in some cultures, it is often sorely lacking in many of the exchanges I witness. The loss is ours.
One lasting impression from my first trip to Israel in 1995 was that our guide was a Jewish woman and the bus driver was a Palestinian man. In contrast to the stereotypes that pits those two groups against each other as mortal enemies, these two projected friendship and care for one another. That is not to deny the deep conflicts that exist between those groups, but it does provide a wrinkle of hope that other alternatives are possible. Each day I grieve over the violence and suffering experienced by persons on each side of that political dilemma – as well as several other conflicts around the globe. Seeing a counter viewpoint being lived out by the guide and driver was a breath of fresh air. Perhaps it is a simplistic approach but I can’t help but wonder, in a world where fear or suspicion make us watchful and leery of others, could the practice of welcome and hospitality help reduce hostilities that are based on little more than ignorance or misunderstanding? Admittedly it will take more to resolve generational hatred and greed that perpetuates much of the world’s harshness, but at least it is a start.
On the wall by the front door of our home there are two reminders of this. On the outside, a sign reads “Bienvenidos Amigos.” It came from a small town in Mexico. It reminds me of the hospitality I experienced there and of the welcome I intend to offer those who visit. The other is on the interior wall. It is a picture of coats on a hanger. Amid them hangs a set of angel wings. Beneath them are the words, “Be not forgetful to show hospitality to strangers, for some have thereby entertained angels unawares.” (Hebrews 13:2-3)
Whether you are entertaining angels or being welcomed by one, never underestimate the potential possibilities and lasting impact of that moment’s hospitality. It may have a huge influence on what comes next.