Being Welcomed Sucks

This past Sunday was the conclusion of the Stewardship Campaign. Sandy Crawford did an excellent job of sharing his personal experience of feeling grateful and how his life has been impacted by belonging to Symons Valley United Church. Please see below for an excerpt from his message.

During Sunday's worship service, we also celebrated the sacrament of baptism. Baptism can happen when one is an infant, a child or when they are all grown up. Baptism in the United Church of Canada is a ritual in which the congregation that states, for the baptized:

Welcome to the family!

If the baptized person is not a grown up, the parents of the baby or child are asked to make promises to raise their child in the way of love and the teaching of Jesus. And, in return, the congregation promises to support them and their child on their journey of parenting and growing up as children of God. The time of baptism is usually a reverent moment during the worship service. Water from the River Jordan is added to the water basin. The water is poured slowly, for all to see. The baptized are named and brought forward. Sometimes in the arms of a loved one or sometimes on their own accord. We lay hands on the baptized so that the Holy Spirit may be called upon to be present during this holy time. The words, In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, are said. The sign of the cross is made. The presence of the Divine can be easily be noticed at baptism.

Most Sundays. Other Sundays, the Divine sometimes hides around the corner. Of the Communion Table. Or the AV booth. The Divine is there but it can be tricky seeing exactly where because of the giggling. Or outright laughing. By the congregation.

Because. You know. Not everyone WANTS to be baptized. Not. At. All.

Like this Sunday.

We had one young man who was contrary to the whole baptismal thing and was not shy about letting us know that. By guess and by golly we made it through the liturgy, the words were said, the promises were made, water somehow made it onto his person and the cross was VERY LIGHTLTY drawn across his turned away, unhappy back. Amen.

Today I was thinking how funny it was that this kid was resistant to the whole act of being welcomed into the family of Christ and our congregation. Of course, the welcome wasn't really what he was resisting - I imagine it was more about being up on the stage, of having to do what he was told in that exact moment of time, of dealing with me, the water and all that darn touching.

But it got me thinking, what do we do when our people resist being welcomed in? Our people, our family, our children, our friends who resist being in the family unit (anyone who remembers being 16 knows that being a part of your family is just absolutely painful at times). What about those who withdraw, for whatever reason, from the circle of friends, the family gatherings, the support group, the small group ministry? What happens when, no matter how much love we have, it is not enough to keep them close in certain times of life?


I think that our response to those moments has to be the response I hope would happen when I, myself, feel out in the cold and unable to enter into whatever circle I am missing from. The response is not to shut the door. The response is to keep the door open, keep current the invite to return and join once again, and to be prepared to make the circle wider when I do choose or am able to enter back in.


I'm sure there's this nice door image that could be found to represent this metaphor of keeping the door open but I can't help but think of a picture I saw floating around on Facebook last Christmas. It was the Christmas card photo that the Australian politician Andrew Leigh's put out for their family Christmas card. One of their children was clearly unhappy about having to participate in the dumb photo shoot and made his feelings known. Rather than force the issue or reschedule, Leigh and his spouse decided to show the world that not every moment of their lives was photo-perfect. Nor did they cut him out of the picture, so to speak. I love how the little guy is sitting at the edge of the group, not apart of it but not far apart from it. He set himself aside but the family looks ready to welcome him back in once a few things have been sorted out - with himself and his gosh-darn parents.

Sometimes it sucks being welcomed. But it would suck more to not be invited back in.

{Talk about a Prodigal Son moment - go read it. Luke 15:11–32.}

And now for a word from the sermon and Sandy Crawford:

How do we show our gratitude? “You are the light of the world,” Jesus said to his followers. Those words from what we call “The Sermon on the Mount”, are a small part of Jesus’ lessons about what it means to live in this world.

“You are the light of the world,” Jesus said so long ago. But is Jesus really talking about me? About you? As someone who does not feel like something as essential or purifying as salt or as illuminating as light, I wonder if Jesus really means these words about me. Surely he means people who don’t yell at their kids, who always say YES when asked to volunteer and who never act like the world has ended just because a traffic snarl has messed up their carefully planned day. Surely those whom Jesus calls salt of the earth and light of the world are a superior class of people, nothing like myself.

So, just whom is Jesus speaking to, if not to us?

Maybe we need to backtrack again. A few verses before this sermon, we hear exactly whom Jesus is speaking to: “News about [Jesus] spread all over Syria , and people brought to him all who were ill with various diseases, those suffering from severe pain, the demon-possessed, those having seizures (probably because they had been caught in a traffic jam too!) and the paralyzed and he healed them.”

And here’s why it’s a good thing to realize who Jesus was speaking to. Because it is so easy for us to believe that Jesus was speaking to a special class of people that day.  But in reality they were those who sought him because they had to. Because they needed him. The ones we are told came to Jesus that day, the ones he spoke to, were the sick, those in pain -  those who yelled at their kids – and those who lost their temper over trivial issues. They were people in need of God. And because they stood in need of God, they needed that blessing.  Just like us.

To the broken and hurting, Jesus gives that blessing. And then he says they are of the earth and of the breath of God. To the flawed and imperfect he says that their bodies are wonders filled with light. Simple and direct – you are salt; you are light.

And then he tells us to get on with it! Salt has to be used to fulfil its purpose!  Hiding your light under a basket isn’t going to help anyone!

Go. Be salt. Be light. Go.