Hospitality: Come as you are, exactly as you are, but do not expect to leave in exactly the same condition”

I will begin with a classic bit of Rumi

"The Guest House" by Rumi  

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

I recently attended the funeral of my dear friend Nik’s mother, Helen. Helen was a very special person. She gave so much to so many by just being herself and making you feel welcome and accepted as you are. I have been reflecting on the impact that she had on my life as well as the life of others. While I was preparing thoughts I would share at the funeral, it dawned on me that she was one of the inspirations for my ministerial mantra, she certainly planted some seeds: “Come as you are, exactly as you are, but do not expect to leave in exactly the same condition.” I learnt that in her home where she made myself and so many others feel truly welcome. Her home always felt like a safe haven, a place of refuge. A place of welcome. Home. Certainly, Helen always made you feel that way. To quote the great Robert Frost:

“Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.”

Now the thing about Helen is that she didn’t have to take you in, but she always did. More than that she encouraged and enabled you to be who you were in her company. This is true welcome. This is true openness. I think that sometimes we confuse what it means to be open. It is not to tell the whole world who you are, to pour yourself all over others, but allow those you meet to be who they are in your company. When I think of openness I see it as an Invitation to others, to come into your life.

Now while Helen always made us welcome, there were a couple of rules. She would say “I don’t mind you coming round, as long as you say hello” and “There’s two doors to this house, you come in one and if you don’t like it you go out the other.” So, you would arrive and say hello as Helen worked away on her knitting or stamps in the back room. I learnt the lesson the hard way about her rule. I didn’t need to learn it twice. As she told me straight when I didn’t pop round and say hello once.

Helen was of Polish decent and was born in Germany just after the “Second World War”. Her start to life was not easy. Her father died not long after she was born and as a young child she developed polio, spending months in hospital in an iron lung. Helen’s stay in the hospital lasted so long that she even began to call the nurses ‘mum’. Polio permanently handicapped her as she had one leg shorter than the other. The family eventually ended up in England. She could speak only Polish at first, but eventually became a fully fledge Yorkshire woman. She again learnt something of welcome in those early days as some made the family welcome where as others were suspicious of these strange sounding people. Helen’s sense of welcome was shaped very much by her early life. It also shaped her career as a theatre nurse. Many of her former colleagues attended her funeral. They all spoke of Helen is exactly the same way. Her welcome was her life.

Helen fell in love and married having two sons. Sadly her husband John died suddenly while on holiday from a brain haemorrhage. She brought up her boys alone, being both mother and father to them. Her son’s Nik and Anthony are two of the finest people you could meet. They carry that same spirit of openness and welcome. An absolute credit to her.

I spoke with several people family, friends, colleagues, friends of her sons and all had the same impression of Helen and her life and legacy. She is a wonderful example of what it means to live with welcome. She wanted you to be who you were, with love and respect. She acknowledged the inherent worth and dignity of all, although she would never have used such a phrase. She did so not by what she said, but by simply being who she was. Oh, by the way I am not attempting portray a saint here, she also had that classic Yorkshire bluntness and if you and done wrong she would tell you so. I learnt that once and never disrespected her again. She welcomed me with open arms though, not matter what condition I was in. She did the same with everyone.

This all got me thinking about welcome, about encouraging welcome, about encouraging folk to come and try again even if they have fallen short in life. It also got me thinking about how faith enables us to do some.

It brought to my mind those well known words of Rumi

“Come, come, whoever you are. Wanderer, worshiper, lover of leaving. It doesn't matter. Ours is not a caravan of despair. come, even if you have broken your vows a thousand times. Come, yet again , come , come.”

Jelaluddin Rumi

Rumi’s words bring to my mind the prodigal’s father. A lot of folk who ended up at Helen’s, who would go talk to her in her back room were struggling with life and she would listen without prejudice, just offering love. When I think of living in and by Grace this is what comes to my mind, to be that kind of person to others. To welcome another to be who they are is the ultimate of Grace we can offer one another. I’m sure Helen wouldn’t see it that way, she was just being herself. She was simply being hospitable. She lived with the memory of those who had offered it her, from a difficult beginning in life and at other stages too. She followed their loving Grace filled example. She also remembered those who made her feel unwelcome as she was a stranger in a strange land, at a difficult time of re-building in European history. Many of her parent’s families were murdered by the Nazi’s and she suffered loss and tragedy throughout her life. She witnessed and experienced a variety of examples and chose the path of love and hospitality, all her life.

Since Helen’s funeral I have been thinking about hospitality and how we might live hospitable lives. Lives of welcome and of healing and repair. We cannot do that to the whole world, but we can begin where we are and do what we can with what we have.

Hospitality is word that conjures images of the hotel industry in our day and age. The word though has a deeper spiritual history. It dates back to the early monasteries of the 5th century. Strangers would come in need of care. The word “Hospitality” originates from the Latin word “hospes” meaning both guest and host and stranger, the origin of the word is reciprocal in nature. At the heart of word is the link between welcoming travellers and caring for the vulnerable. The words hospital, hospice, hospitable, hospitality, bring to my heart and mind the idea of being generous, caring and sustaining, something I witnessed in Helen and many others. It is no surprise that Helen worked as a nurse all her life. Now like Helen there were rules in these ancient monasteries. The best known being that of St. Benedict. Benedict created a book of rules to live by, called The Rule of Benedict. Many monasteries still adhere to it today. The foundation of the rule was listening. “Listen with the ear of your heart,”

To be hospitable is to listen with an open heart; it is to allow the person in your company to speak, to be who they are. It is the key to my ministry and do know what I think I learnt it in Helen’s backroom as she would listen to me and my troubles when I would go to her home often in confusion and despair. She would welcome and listen to me in my prodigal shame. It wasn’t anything personal, she did it for so many, right up to the very end. She would call you a pain in the backside, but would sit you down and give you a cup of Mellow Birds and sometimes something a little stronger. It is strange to me but over the last few weeks, before Helen died, “Mellow Birds for mellow moments” has been singing in my heart and mind. The concept of mutual care and love as also been on my heart a lot too. That it is relational in nature, that folk walk together side by side, listening and sharing

It fascinates me that at its root in the Latin word “hospes”, hospitality meant both guest and host. This is a relational interchange. It brings to my mind an article I read by Renee Ruchotzke who wrote:

“I believe that the theological basis for hospitality – radical hospitality –is the concept of the Creative Interchange as expressed by process theologian Henry Nelson Wieman. In Wieman’s theological model, the source of human good is what he calls the Creative Interchange. You and I interact, we learn something new from one another, we absorb that experience into our own being, it enriches our experience of the world. Our enriched selves in turn enrich others in subsequent interactions. This ripple effect enriches the world. The more varied our experiences and the more we interact with different people, the greater the increase of human good.”

This to me is how we live hospitable lives; it is to be truly open and welcome to one another. Such living is truly transformative; such living embodies what I mean by my ministerial mantra “Come as you are, exactly as you are, but do not expect to leave in exactly the same condition.” To welcome the other you have to be welcome too. A real challenge in our time, but then again it is the same in any other time. It is always a challenge. There is nothing new under the sun.

Hospitality, living this way is not easy. There is the possibility of rejection and becoming vulnerable. Harm can come. Some can make you unwelcome. Some may take advantage. That said I believe that hospitality is essential if we are to begin to heal our broken communities and world. It probably begins one relationship at time, just a wall is repaired one stone at a time.

I have been remembering and honouring a life that touched me deeply the last couple of weeks. Someone who taught me hospitality and welcome. Not a perfect person, a very real one. One I didn’t realise at the time had had such an impact on me at such a difficult time in my life. Someone who loved me as I was by welcoming me exactly as I was. Someone who offered comfort and shelter and most importantly a listening ear, someone who listened with the ear of their heart.

As I said at her funeral.

“Helen was a remarkable woman. Someone who would make you feel welcome as you were. In my work my ministerial mantra is “Come as you are, exactly as you are…but do not expect to leave in exactly the same condition.” I have been thinking of these words these last few days and do know what I have only just realised where I learnt this. It was at 46 White Lee Road a place where you were always welcomed in, even if you were a pain in the arse.”

Thank you Helen for all that you gave to all of us. It is etched in my heart and soul as it is in that of so many of us.

Someone whose memory I hope will always live on in me.

I’m going to end with a little bit more of Rumi. A poem celebrating hospitality.

All religions, all this singing
One Song.
The differences are just
Illusion and vanity.
The Sun's light looks
A little different on this wall than
It does on that wall,
And a lot different on this other one,
But it's still one light.

We have borrowed these clothes,
These time and place personalities
From a light,
And when we praise,
We're pouring them back in.

Please find below a video devotion based on the material in this "Blogspot"

Welcome: On Becoming a Wished for Guest

"Come, come, whoever you are. Wanderer, worshiper, lover of leaving. It doesn't matter. Ours is not a caravan of despair. come, even if you have broken your vows a thousand times. Come, yet again , come , come."

Words of the Sufi mystic Mawlana Jala-al-Din Rumi

Simply Rumi to most folk

I’m told I’ve got one of those faces. One that’s easy to talk to, easy and approachable. I’m not sure how true it is, but I do find strangers come and talk with me. It happened on Monday afternoon. I’d just come back from the act of Remembrance in Urmston and went to the gym. I set off for half an hour on the cross trainer before getting stuck into some resistance work. I’d only been moving a minute or so when an old guy came to the machine next to me and began to engage me in conversation. I think he told me his life story in about 20 minutes before he’d had enough, not of talking, but of the machine. He told me about his career, his family, his religious beliefs and his politics and a whole lot more. He told me how he’d been a good salesman and that this was down to the smile and his open face, something that his granddaughter had inherited he was proud to say.

I smiled as he left and I got on with the rest of my routine. I wondered if that’s how it works. All you need is an open face and folk will feel welcome. There’s probably more too it than that, but it’s a good start I thought.

Over the years I’ve developed a bit of a ministerial catch phrase. I wonder if anyone reading this can guess.

I am often hear sating “Come as you are, exactly as you are, but do not expect to leave in exactly the same condition.” It is my play on those words of Rumi’s at the beginning of this post.

It is my attempt to make feel people welcome wholly as they, but to also keep them open to the possibility of change. For I do belief that life is flux, always changing. As Heraclitus so beautifully put no one steps in the same river twice, because the river is never the same and neither is the person stepping into it. Change of course is something to be celebrated, my hope is people will always feel welcome exactly as they, without apology. I want everyone to feel welcome in my company and this community. So, I’m kind of glad that folk find me approachable.

And when I say come as you are, exactly as you are…but do not expect to leave in exactly the same condition, I really mean it.

I hope that people always feel welcome in my company...

“Welcome” is one of those very interesting words. It is derived from and old English and Germanic word meaning a wished for guest. So when we welcome people it is more than just accepting folk as they its about wanting nay wishing for what these guests bring. So in the communities I serve when we say all are welcome here, we mean that you truly are wished for guests, although we are not yet sure exactly what it is we are wishing for.

Who you are as you are is wished for…No need to explain or apologies for who you are…

Now of course people don’t always feel welcome in certain company. People have been rejected for all kinds of reasons, whether that be race, gender, sexuality, beliefs or lack of. I and the communities I serve aspire to make no such exclusions, but I know we fall short of our own ideals at times, who doesn't . We do attempt to make no exclusions. We say all are welcome as they are, you are a wished for guest as you are.

It is not just we ourselves who sometime do not feel welcome, sometimes we do not wish to welcome all of life. Some aspects of life and some people are not welcomed by we ourselves. What is unwelcome in our personal guesthouses? What are life’s unwished for guests?

This brings to mind another one of Rumi’s better known poems “The Guest House”

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

I, like so many folk, love the mystical poetry of Rumi. I particularly love his notion here, that being human is like being a “guest house”. In life we are visited by all kinds of guests, so many unexpected visitors occasionally show up and stay for a while, including some you’d really like to throw out. Such guests are certainly not wished for. And yet perhaps such guests are the ones that we ought to be wishing for the most, because if we do welcome them then they may have something to teach us, they may lead us to some new truth, new experience. Perhaps these are the guest we ought to be wishing for, maybe they are the true gift givers in life.

If only we could just simply do that. Just let all life in without fear of what might happen to us, if we could live without stranger danger, whether that be people, situations, feeling and thoughts. Rarely do any of us make the uncomfortable feelings and situations welcome guests.

There are conversations in my life that I avoid, that I would rather not have, that I swerve around. I did it on a couple of occasions with the man I the gym, especially when he moved the subject to politics. I’m sure most folk experience this with family and friends in these increasingly divisive times

Not that I ignore what is going on in the world around me, quite the opposite actually. Sometimes I get a little stuck in the troubles of life. Yes of course there are people places and things that I would rather not listen to; things I would rather ignore avert from my eyes, than pay attention to. There are things in this world I don’t like and do not approve of; there are actions in my nearest and dearest that I don’t agree with; there are aspects of myself that I wish were different. Should I turn from them? There are those who would say so and I have certainly done so in the past, but I try not to these days. Nobody is perfect, no one is complete, but that does not mean that they should be shunned, they should be locked outside love’s gate. They should become un-wished for guests, unwelcome.

This brings to mind a passage from Luke’s Gospel Ch18 vv 9-14 In the passage a prideful Pharisee, who considers himself better than others, is described. He follows the laws and commandments to the letter. In the same passage a tax collector is also described who recognises his imperfections and does not feel he is worthy of God’s love. In the passage Jesus holds up the tax collector and not the Pharisee as being the exalted one. Jesus says “For everyone that exalteth himself shall be abased; and he that humbelth himself shall be exalted. You see the Pharisee turns from the tax collector and others who he believes are beneath him. He sees their wrongs and thus believes that unlike himself they are not worthy of God’s love. The Pharisee fails to see that by rejecting his neighbour he is also rejecting God.

There is something in this teaching, a theme repeated in the Gospels, about being a good host and a good guest. It’s about accepting our humanity and the humanity of one another. It’s about love and acceptance of ourselves and one another; it’s about universal love; it’s about perfect love. I believe that the only thing we can do perfectly is love. This requires us to love all, without prejudice. In my eyes this is how the love that is God comes to life, how it incarnates. I fall short of this mark every day, but I believe that it is possible to attain such love, not just for myself but for everyone. We can accept all people, we are capable of love. The key is to make all of life a wished for guests.

Now of course to truly love someone requires you to get to know them and this can be both scary and at times painful. And of course to know someone requires us to understand what a person loves and what causes them pain. To truly welcome someone means we welcome all of them. We can’t ask the guests we wish for to leave part of themselves outside of the guesthouse

There is a wonderful story told by Madeleine L’Engle in “Walking on Water”, which describes this oh so beautifully.

“(Here is) a story of a Hasidic rabbi, renowned for his piety. He was unexpectedly confronted one day by one of his devoted youthful disciples. In a burst of feeling, the young disciple exclaimed, “My master, I love you!” The ancient teacher looked up from his books and asked his fervent disciple, “Do you know what hurts me, my son?”

The young man was puzzled. Composing himself, he stuttered, “I don’t understand your question, Rabbi. I am trying to tell you how much you mean to me, and you confuse me with irrelevant questions.”

“My questions is neither confusing nor irrelevant,” rejoined the rabbi, “For if you do not know what hurts me, how can you truly love me.””

To know someone is not only to share in their joy, but also in their suffering. To welcome someone is to welcome them wholly, to make every aspect of them the wished for guest.

I believe that one purpose of religious communities is the development of intimacy, real intimacy, something that is lacking in our increasingly isolating culture. Something that modern day consumerist spirituality does not offer. It does not offer the intimate encounter that community brings. Spirituality cannot occur in the privacy of our lives or hidden away on mountain tops it can only come to life in real lived encounters with other people. In awkward difficult encounters with people like you and me, perfectly imperfect people who know both joy and pain. With folk who practise what t it means to truly love. Who worship wholly in all areas of life, not in a superior way, but humbly and because they love life and their souls need this worship and love of life.

The communities I serve say all are welcome, we say come as you are exactly as you are...but don’t expect to leave in exactly the same condition.

We say we accept people exactly as they are in their faith, doubt and confusion, in their joy and sadness. This is true hospitality. Welcoming the weary traveller with open arms, whoever they are and where ever they have come from. Welcoming them wholly body, mind and soul; that they leave no part of themselves at the door. All that we ask is that those that we welcome are good guests and hosts themselves, that they accept us as we are and others who come as they are.

We say this is a community of love, where we aspire to offer perfect love, to accept people as they are.

So come as you are, exactly as you are, become the wished for guest, but do not expect to leave in exactly the same condition…

A Guest of Life

I enjoyed a lovely time, during my week off, mainly with family both biological and none biological. Truth be told though I’ve been enjoying a good few weeks of late. I feel very connected to life, to people, at the moment. I’m looking the world, the people of the world, in the eye and smiling and do you know what they seem to be returning the favour. I feel very blessed...I’m singing joyfully and the world seems to be singing back at me...thank you...

I spent a couple of days with my brother and his family down in Middlesex; I thoroughly enjoyed our time together. This was not the case the last time I visited a couple of summers back. My brother was not in a good place back then and I found this extremely painful. This time he is much better and I feel more accepting of how he is. I have found that the hardest pain in life is that of your nearest and dearest. I suspect that this is not just because you are closer to them and therefore more invested it is also because it mirrors your own suffering. I felt quite a bit of guilt after my last visit. Why? You may well ask, well because truth be told I fled his pain and suffering. This is something I do far less than I used to but I still do so from time to time.

There's no doubt to me that the reason that I've been experiencing a deeper sense of connection these last few weeks is because some more barriers have come down. I am less afraid of life and people and therefore am generally experiencing the joy of living in my daily interactions. Through this I am witnessing the love of God manifesting in life and it is beautiful. How could it not be?

Last week was just so beautiful because I felt welcomed into so many different people’s lives. Now was this because they welcomed me or was it because I embraced the welcome? I cannot be certain; all I know is that I enjoyed my time in the company of so many people. It got me thinking about the time we spend here, our physical lives. It also got me thinking about the intimate relationships we share together.

Our time is always limited. Whether that is in the place we find ourselves or the relationships we form. We are all passing through this time and place. Nothing last forever, no person, nothing. We are all guests of this life. This is perhaps something we ought to consider when we are with one another.

Being a good guest is not as easy as it sounds; I know I’ve not always found it easy. It requires an appropriate level of intimacy between the people involved. It’s about sharing in the life of the person you are with, taking an interest in what they like; it is also about taking an interest in what causes them pain. It’s about entering their world for a short time. It’s about sharing in their loves in a genuine, open and honest way, but it’s also about sharing in their suffering.

I believe that I achieved this last week, as I shared time with people I have known all my life and others I have only known for a short time. Do you know what every moment was deeply meaningful. I also felt the same way as I was wandereing around parts of Yorkshire and Greater London and interacted with a variety of people on so many levels; sometimes merely through eye contact and at others through brief conversations.

The whole week was a delight to every sense as I indulged myself in the indulgences of others. I was a good guest and this is why it was so fulfilling; I was a good guest to the people I shared my time with and I was a good guest to life itself. I fully engaged with everything that came my way, I accepted all that was on offer. I asked for very little, I accepted what was offered and I gave thanks for every morsal.

This may just be the key you know. To ask for very little, to accept what is offered and to give thanks for whatever comes our way. I just need to remember this and when I forget to remember to listen out for the reminders all around me. I need to keep on opening my heart and listening with the ears of my heart.

Now of course there are people places and things that I would rather not listen to; things I would rather ignore, avert from my eyes, than pay attention to. There are things in this world I don’t like and do not approve of. There are actions in my nearest and dearest that I don’t agree with, there are aspects of myself that I wish were different. Should I turn from them? There are those who would say so and I have certainly done so in the past, but I try not to these days. Nobody is perfect, no one is complete, but that does not mean that they should be shunned, they should be locked outside love’s gate.

There is a passage in Luke's Gospel (Ch 18 vv 9-14) that describes a prideful Pharisee, who considers himself better than others, above everyone else. He follows the laws and commandments to the letter. In the same passage a tax collector is also described who recognises his imperfections and does not feel he is worthy of God’s love. In the passage Jesus holds up the tax collector and not the Pharisee as being the exalted one. Jesus says “For everyone that exalteth himself shall be abased; and he that humbelth himself shall be exalted. You see the Pharisee turns from the tax collector and others who he believes are beneath him. He sees their wrongs and thus believes that unlike himself they are not worthy of God’s love. The Pharisee fails to see that by rejecting his neighbour he is also rejecting God. While he is following the laws to the letter he is breaking the "Golden Rule", to love his neighbour as himself.

There is something in this teaching, a theme repeated in the Gospels, about being a good host and good guest. It’s about accepting our humanity and the humanity of one another. It’s about love and acceptance of ourselves and one another; it’s about universal love; it’s about perfect love. I believe that the only thing we can do perfectly is love. This requires us to love all, without prejudice. In my eyes this is how the love that is God comes to life, how it incarnates.

Now of course to truly love someone requires us to get to know them and this can be both scary and at times painful. to know someone requires us to understand what a person loves and what causes them pain. There is a wonderful story told by Madeleine L’Engle in “Walking on Water”, which describes this oh so beautifully.

“(There is) a story of a Hasidic rabbi, renowned for his piety. He was unexpectedly confronted one day by one of his devoted youthful disciples. In a burst of feeling, the young disciple exclaimed, “My master, I love you!” The ancient teacher looked up from his books and asked his fervent disciple, “Do you know what hurts me, my son?”

The young man was puzzled. Composing himself, he stuttered, “I don’t understand your question, Rabbi. I am trying to tell you how much you mean to me, and you confuse me with irrelevant questions.”

“My questions is neither confusing nor irrelevant,” rejoined the rabbi, “For if you do not know what hurts me, how can you truly love me.””

Now of course we cannot know everyone in a deep and meaningful way. It takes time and effort to form intimate bonds. This is exemplified almost perfectly in an ancient Chinese proverb that says: The fifth cup of tea between friends is the best.

I believe that one purpose of religious communities is the development of intimacy, real intimacy, something that is lacking in our increasingly isolating culture. Something that modern day consumerist spirituality does not offer. It does not offer the intimate encounter that community brings. Real spirituality cannot occur in the privacy of our lives or hidden away on mountain tops it can only come to life in real lived encounters with other people. In awkward difficult encounters with people like you and me, perfectly imperfect people who know both joy and pain. In community we practise love; In community love comes to life.

The purpose of community is to welcome the stranger exactly as they are. My Unitarian traditions says that we welcome all, but I suspect we do this imperfectly. We say "come as you are exactly as you are...but don’t expect to leave in exactly the same condition." We say we accept people exactly as they are in their faith, doubt and confusion, in their joy and sadness. This is true hospitality. Welcoming the weary traveller with open arms, whoever they are and where ever they have come from. Welcoming them wholly body, mind and soul; that they leave no part of themselves at the door. All that we ask is that those welcome are good guests and hosts themselves. That they accept we as we are and others who come as they are.

To be a good guest of life is to practise perfect love, I believe it is the only thing that can be done perfectly. I have not yet achieved this myself, but I aspire to it each day. I believe that everyone of us is capable of this. Why don't you give it a try. It can begin with your next encounter. It can begin by you being both a good guest and a good host. It begins by welcoming one another into each others lives, both your joys and delights and your pains. It begins by listening with the ears of your heart and speaking the language of your heart. The language of the heart will break down every barrier...let it speak in and through you.

Welcoming the stranger

"Come, come, whoever you are. Wanderer, worshiper, lover of leaving. It doesn't matter. Ours is not a caravan of despair. come, even if you have broken your vows a thousand times. Come, yet again , come , come." 

— Mawlana Jalal-al-Din Rumi

These words by the Sufi mystic Rumi speak powerfully to me.

I believe that they teach us what a religious community should be about. Such communities ought to be about welcoming people – whoever they are and wherever they have been.

This welcome is an invitation to join fellow travellers on a journey together. A journey of hope and not despair, that keeps on inviting the wanderer to "keep coming back". The invitation of course is universal, it is open to all.

The importance of welcoming the stranger is at the root of all the great faith traditions. The ancient Greeks cultivated the concept of  “Xenia” or “guest friendship” They believed that the guest may well be a God in disguise and thus treated them accordingly. In Genesis Abraham is visited by three guests, who he treats like royalty. These guests are later revealed to be angels; in fact it is implied strongly that one may well be God himself. They tell the childless and aged Abraham and Sarah that they will have a son.

Being a gracious host is a primary requirement of Islam. The Qur’an 4. 36-37 reads:

“Be kind to parents.and near kins man, and to orphans, and to the needy, and to the neighbour who is of kin, and to the neighbour who is a stranger, and to the companion at your side, and to the traveller...Surely God loves not the proud and boastful such as are niggardly, and bid other men to be niggardly, and themselves conceal the bounty that God has given them.”

This welcoming of the stranger is deeply engrained in the Judeo-Christian tradition. The classic example of this is the parable of the “Good Samaritan” The story tells of a Jewish man who lay on the side of the road beaten, robbed and left to die. He is passed by a Jewish priest and temple official, who both ignore him. Then a Samaritan passes by, a despised enemy of the Israelites. He looks after the man and pays for his shelter at the inn. He welcomes the stranger.

Mother Teresa, an often vilified and dare I say mocked figure, took this teaching to heart and believed that in every suffering and needy person was something of God, she saw Jesus in human suffering. She and others like her saw it as their life task to offer hospitality to the stranger

The monastic tradition has cultivated the practise of caring for the stranger and the poor and needy. Hospitals began in such places. The word hospital comes from “hospitable”. The best example of this has to be the monastery of St. Benedict. Benedict created what has become known as “The Rule of Benedict”, which was a book of rules by which a monastery ought to live. Many monasteries today live by this rule, including some Buddhist ones. The foundation of the rule is listening, deep attentive listening. It begins, “listen carefully, my child, to the instructions...and attend to them with ear of your heart “.

To welcome someone into our lives we need to listen deeply. This is a concept which the Dalai Lama promotes in contemporary time. It is not some ancient practise lost in the annals of time, it is living and breathing, it is contemporary and it is most urgently needed in our time.

In my time at Altrincham and Urmston I have been warmly welcomed by the various faith traditions. I have certainly felt listened to. Inter-faith relations and respect for those who think about religion differently is healthy and strong here. Sadly this is not the case the world over. I suspect that this is why there is so much anti-religious feeling in 21st Century Britain.

Sadly not all people of faith are welcoming of all, whoever they are. Perhaps this is why so many people have rejected religion all together. How often do we hear “I’m spiritual not religious”?

I think many spiritually minded people reject religion because they see it as authoritarian, unbending, dangerous and not a source of loving compassion for your fellow man or woman. My experience of religion has been very different, both within my own Unitarian tradition and through my encounters with the other faiths here in Altrincham and Urmston. I consider myself to be both spiritual and religious. I am religious because I join with others on a spiritual odyssey seeking truth and meaning. My fellow travellers often do not hold the same beliefs and yet we are able to journey together in compassion, helping one another along the way. I am also spiritual because I do not seek authority over others and no one has authority over my conscience in matters of faith. The religion I practise is free and it is deeply spiritual.

The 16th Unitarian Francis David once proclaimed “We need not think alike, to love a like.”

I have found this to be true among the faith communities I have encountered during my short time as a minister. They have made me, the stranger, most welcome.