I’m at St Benedict’s Monastery in Colorado. I longed to visit here for 32 years. When I heard Father Thomas Keating, the Abbot, present a guest lecture in graduate school I was mesmerized by his passionate approach to prayer and contemplation. Nestled in a wide valley surrounded by mountains, the monastery stretches the heart to inhale God’s boundless beauty.
Posted on the doorway into the chapel is a small notice that says “the bishop of Denver wants us to remind you…the bread and wine are only to be served to the Catholics.” As I listen to the monks in white robes sing the glorious liturgy, I meditate. And then my mind wanders back to that little sign. Somehow I am not worthy of the feast. My Protestant spirituality is not good enough. I remind myself that no church is perfect. But still I wonder, do they know I am a minister? And who gives them the right to separate me from God’s holiest of gifts?
After the service, a monk greets me kindly. I want him to say “it’s ok if you want to take communion…we have to post that sign but truly, you are invited, you are welcome, you belong.” But he doesn’t. Maybe he thinks I am too much of a sinner. Or not even a Christian. And so I leave, feeling like an outsider.
And then I wonder, what barriers exist around our church. What signs have we tacked up inadvertently that keep others out. The stunning gothic stone façade? The million dollar homes lining Ward Parkway? The pretty cars we drive? Do folks assume that only perfect Christians with perfect beliefs and perfect lives of service are welcome inside our doors? Or do they need one of us insiders to invite them to ignore the signs and come on in?
I go back to my cabin and eat my supper in silence. Then I sit outside on the patio to read a book as the sun sets. A fellow pilgrim comes out on the patio. “We are going to have dinner. Please join us.” I’m flattered but prefer to read so I explain. “No, I’ve eaten.” She insists. “Please have a glass of wine, I’m getting you a plate and napkin.” She will not take no for an answer. And I accept. Not because I’m hungry for food, but for welcome.
So when I get back to Kansas City, I am going to invite a few friends of mine to church. Not because the church needs more people. But because people need to know that God welcomes them at the table of grace. It’s not our table. But is our honor to invite. Someone has said “It’s nice to go to a friendly church. It’s better to go to church with a friend.”
Grace and peace,
-Carla
