Let us build a house where love can dwell

and all can safely live,

a place where saints and children tell

how hearts learn to forgive.

Built of hope and dreams and visions,

rock of faith and vault of grace;

here the love of Christ shall end divisions:

All are welcome, all are welcome,

all are welcome in this place.

“Whoever welcomes you, welcomes me” says Jesus.

This notion of welcome is important – remember the line in the letter to the Hebrews: “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.”

But it’s not just important to people of faith: shops and offices, homes and hospitals all seek to offer a warm welcome, to make the doorway into that establishment not so much a high threshold, but the entry to little less than paradise.

Welcome – such an inoffensive word
 

Let us build a house where prophets speak,

and words are strong and true,

where all God’s children dare to seek

to dream God’s reign anew.

Here the cross shall stand as witness

and as symbol of God’s grace;

here as one we claim the faith of Jesus:

All are welcome, all are welcome,

all are welcome in this place.

Welcome seems such an easy idea, but in reality it takes thought and intention and discipline. To be seeped in the art of welcoming, can take as much practice as any other art, craft or sport. There are some people who naturally gifted in this way (as there are people who are naturally gifted in other crafts and sports), they seem to be in the right place at the right time, with an appropriate drink or bite to eat to offer, a few gentle, yet thoughtful questions to ask, and a real, deep, listening interest in the other person.

They seem to be able to wipe away all the awkwardness and strangeness of new meetings, and make you feel at home. Perhaps this is the measure of the value of a welcome, just how much it makes you feel ‘at home’.

Let us build a house where love is found

in water, wine and wheat:

a banquet hall on holy ground

where peace and justice meet.

Here the love of God, through Jesus,

in revealed in time and space;

as we share in Christ the feast that frees us:

All are welcome, all are welcome,

All are welcome in this place.

Welcome – it sounds so straightforward.

For Christians and for Jews, welcome is part of who we are. Welcoming the stranger is anchored in the Old Testament texts and was part of the measure of the Hebrew community’s faithfulness of God.

When a traveller came to town, they waited by the well, and everyone knew that it was the responsibility of the townsfolk to house and feed the visitor for the night. Not only were these travellers visitors, they were also strangers, aliens, with different foods, clothes, languages and gods. There must have been a sense of fear sometimes, when offering hospitality to total strangers. After all, as one writer puts it

"Just as the human need for hospitality is a constant, so, it seems, is the human fear of the stranger."

But hospitality was so central to the life of the Jews that they did not let that sense of risk define who they were; they were intentional about rising above the fear and offering that hospitality which was central to the God they worshipped.

The same was true in the early Christian communities. Paul reminded the church in Rome to offer hospitality to the alien. In the Acts of the Apostles, we read that the early deacons practiced hospitality to those in need throughout the community. And in Matthew's community, hospitality was still seen as the measure of the faithfulness of the people (as we have just read). Welcoming prophets, righteous ones, and “these little ones” was a disciplined practice of the young churches.
 

Let us build a house where hands will reach

beyond the wood and stone

to heal and strengthen, serve and teach,

and live the Word they’ve known.

Here the outcast and the stranger

bear the image of God’s face;

let us bring an end to fear and danger:

All are welcome, all are welcome,

All are welcome in this place.

Welcome the stranger. It sounds like something we do all the time, but just another note about the word ‘stranger’

In the Greek, the word for ‘stranger’ is xenos – and xenos is also the word for ‘guest’ and for ‘host’. So in this age of tribal loyalties (on the streets of Harare and of Brixton); of Balkanization (with the meeting of Kosovo Serbs in Mitrovica) and of gated communities (some just round the corner from this church), we have become all too aware of the term "xenophobia," - all too aware of our fear of the stranger. Such a fear leads to nationalism, to racism, and in the end to genocide.

Jesus’ call to welcome another runs counter to this prevailing culture of fear, a culture that has prevailed for hundreds of years, and which is as strong now as ever it has been. Jesus’ call to welcome another is nothing less than a call to “xenophilia”, a call to the love of the stranger, the stranger who is also guest, the guest who, at the end of the long walk on the Emmaus road, is also the host.
 

Let us build a house where all are named,

their songs and visions heard

and loved and treasured, taught and claimed

as words within the Word.

Built of tears and cries and laughter,

prayers of faith and songs of grace,

let this house proclaim from floor to rafter:

All are welcome, all are welcome

All are welcome in this place.

Welcome is the watchword by which we shall be known – it is the mark by which a church stands or falls. And the conflict that is so much in evidence within the international Anglican Communion (and possibly other, quieter conflicts closer to home) suggests that the church is not getting it right. It suggests that we are engrossed in conflicts marked by the ways of the world rather than by the hospitality of discipleship. Following Jesus means walking into a holy, gentle, self-forgetting lifestyle lived in community. It means constantly striving to be more like Jesus. It means taking the risk for the sake of the other. It means overcoming our fear of the alien, and replacing it with loving concern for the stranger. It means welcoming others in the name of him who first welcomed us into his love, and in whose name, and because of whose love, we seek to welcome others.

“Whoever welcomes you, welcomes me” says Jesus.