You Are Welcome Here! (Restrictions May Apply)

“Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.” [Matthew 10:40]

Jesus speaks these words at the end of a long sermon commissioning the twelve apostles to go out and proclaim the good news, to cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons. Jesus tells them all this and then tells them don’t worry about bringing a bag, or a tunic, or money, or whatever. These apostles would have to depend on the hospitality of strangers in the places they visited. The church from its inception has relied on the kindness of strangers, for those who welcomed the apostles welcomed Jesus. The early church depended on hospitality and it was charged with extending that same hospitality to others, and so today we Christians strive to be a people of welcome and hospitality.

“Welcome” is a hard word for me – because I really want to believe people when they tell me I’m welcome in a space but it’s hard to accept that welcome at face value when their actions tell me differently. Like many of my fellow Millennials, I have been burned by community, hurt by churches and groups and fellowships that said they welcomed me and all that I am, only to be disappointed when that welcome proved to be conditional. I am often welcomed into progressive, liberal spaces because I am a queer brown person with a “prophetic” voice but I am quickly seen as a troublemaker when I ask hard questions and refuse to settle for scraps at the table. Or other times, my friends and I are welcomed and invited to the table if we all dress to the nines and serve you Sunday best church lady realness but not when any of us walk into your church with dyed hair, tattoos, or, Heaven forbid, wearing a t-shirt and shorts. Many places are eager to lay out a welcome mat for people like me, but are not sure what to do with us once we walk through the door.

But, perhaps foolishly, I continue to show up to church, I continue to read and study my Bible with others, I hatch plans to start theology study groups, I continue to do my best to love and welcome the stranger in my midst. I’ve been asked more than once, why I would dare return to Christianity after having experienced so much abuse, so much pain, so much nonsense? I can tell them quite simply that the answer is… Jesus. Shocking, I know. The church’s welcome may sometimes ring hollow, but the love of Jesus, with his arms stretched out on the cross can welcome and envelop all parts of me. Jesus welcomes me in when I’m happy and pleasant, and Jesus welcomes me when I am messy. Jesus invites me in after calling people out on social media, when I’m pissed off, when I burn bridges, when I refuse to be polite. Jesus sets a place for me at the table at all times of the day and Jesus feeds me the bread of heaven even when I want no part of it.

This is the welcome we are called to embody.

Some churches will loudly proclaim that “It doesn’t matter to us who you are – you are welcome here!” But actually, it does matter, because Jesus loves each of us as we are, in the fullness of our identities – and when we say it “doesn’t matter” we’re essentially saying that you’re just another body in the pew, we don’t need to know your life story, just show up! Nobody wants that. In order to truly practice the radical welcome of Jesus Christ we must build relationships. We must foster and nurture connection. We must see people for all of who they are.

One of my good friends once said something that will always stay with me – she said that people have different “textures” – someone you know could be the happiest person in the world one day and then the next be sad, distraught, or pissed the hell off. And so often the temptation is to only see a person in one of those textures, and not the wholeness of who they are. So we must accept people and all of their textures!

If the church has any desire to stay true to what Jesus has commanded us, we must be truly welcoming. We must listen to people’s stories, and build relationships with them. We must welcome people even when we are challenged by them. We must continue extending hospitality to the strangers in our midst, especially in this country, where the government continues to criminalize Black bodies, threatens to kick off millions of people from their healthcare coverage, shut out Muslims from entering this country, and deport millions of undocumented immigrants.

We once depended on other’s kindness hospitality – and now we are called to extend it to others.

Seeing Over the Crowd

I delivered this sermon yesterday at the parish I am currently interning at. For the readings appointed, including the Gospel reading, click here.

Today’s Gospel reading is one of my favorite stories from the New Testament. The Gospel of Luke tells us that a man named Zacchaeus, a chief tax collector, heard Jesus was coming by. He wanted to see Jesus but was unable to do so because he was “short in stature” and couldn’t see over the amount of people surrounding Jesus. I can relate to that a lot because I’m about 5’4” and most people are taller than me. I’m afraid of heights though, so I haven’t tried climbing into a tree to see someone- but  I can relate to the experience of being unable to see Jesus because of a crowd.
Continue reading “Seeing Over the Crowd”

One Month Later

It’s been about a month since I packed up my life into a suitcase (well, the essentials, anyway) and moved away from home.

Boston is almost a new city for me. I dated someone who lived in the area a few years ago, so I did occasionally come to Boston to see him, but I never spent more than about an hour or so in the city before setting off to visit with him in New Hampshire.

Now that I’m here for a year, much of my recent life- aside from going to work and participating in training sessions-  has been centered around settling into my new home.

Continue reading “One Month Later”

Writing a Rule

I have long been interested in the contemplative traditions of the world’s faiths, Christian monasticism being especially fascinating. There is something appealing to me about the idea of being set apart from the world while also responding deeply to it in a prayerful, compassionate way as monks, nuns, ascetics, and anchorites have done for centuries. When I began returning to my Christian roots this past year, one of the things that again drew me were the lives and teachings of contemplatives, ancient and contemporary; people who emptied themselves, disciplined their daily lives and became enraptured with love of God and neighbor.

Continue reading “Writing a Rule”

My Story, My Scars

I had the honor of sitting on a panel for my school’s Queer Student Union a few weeks ago. I was asked to speak as, what else, but a queer person of faith, a perspective that I have shared numerous times by now. I was joined by one of my professors-  a longtime mentor of mine- who is a lesbian rabbi, as well as three other queer students who identify as Muslim, Catholic, and atheist, respectively.

Continue reading “My Story, My Scars”

The Holiest of Weeks, Revisited

The significance of me coming back to church during the Lenten season is not lost on me (I hope); this is a time when Christians all over the world turn their focus inward, to examine the blockages in their hearts that prevent them from fully dedicating themselves to Christ. It’s been a very deep and purifying season for me, and I feel made anew in Jesus.

Lent is now officially over, and the Lord is risen (he is risen indeed, alleluia!), but I wanted to offer some reflections on praying and living through my first Holy Week in 10 years.

Continue reading “The Holiest of Weeks, Revisited”

Your Works are Wonderful

Note: I had the pleasure of being a speaker this past Thursday at the most recent installment of Queer Voice in the Worldwhich is a social justice-oriented, TED-talk style program highlighting LGBTQ perspectives, held at the William Way Community Center here in Philadelphia. The theme of this month’s event was “Body”, and so I gave talk on my recent spiritual journey and how it is so intricately and intimately tied to healing the divide between body and spirit in my life. The text of my talk follows. 

I was born and raised as a Roman Catholic, and I loved Jesus. Still do. I was really into church when I was younger. I memorized all the prayers during Mass and would recite them under my breath while the priest was saying them. I’m Puerto Rican, so you know I learned all of that in English and Spanish.

Continue reading “Your Works are Wonderful”