All Are Welcome

“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.”
~Marty Haugen

We sang this song at church this past Sunday and it has become an ear worm I can’t seem to shake. I will be mindlessly doing something only to realize that this tune, these words, are floating through my mind. I am choosing to see them as a gentle breeze blowing through all the dust and clutter that can become a part of one’s brain, one’s consciousness on any given day. Truth be told, there could be so many tunes that could have taken up residence in my gray matter, songs that have no redeeming value or even less artful creativity. I am thinking “It’s a Small World” or even “Feelings” right now.

But yesterday as I read or heard report after report about the pastor who is choosing to burn the Qu’ran as a marker of September 11th, I was so happy that this lovely song of Marty Haugen’s was in my head. I realized that the more I heard of this outrageous story and felt my blood pressure and anger rise, that this song was becoming an internal meditation, a mantra to counteract the outward absurdity and the inward pain. The song continues:”Built of hopes and dreams and vision, 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.”

So today I am turning my back on the messages of those who want to spread hate and fear and division. I am not listening to those who can make money from whipping the news of one person and a very small community into a lather by reporting on this proposed act. Instead I am choosing to sing this song in my head and even out loud if I need to. I just walked through the offices whistling it at the tops of my lips. A co-worker walked out of their office and looked to see who was doing such a thing. For me it is a musical act of defiance and a grip on hope.

There are so many things in the world we have little control over. This may be one of them. My prayer is that the outrage of faithful people everywhere will sway this man to abandon this senseless act. My prayer is also that no one will believe that he represents all Christians any more than the terrorists who ended their own lives and so many others’ nine years ago represent all Muslims. To believe either would be an act of tragedy.

I guess my real prayer is that the Holy will blow through the lives of those with this misguided intention and that grace will prevail. But since I have no control over that either, I will continue to pray and to sing in the hope that in doing so I will wear my faith like a breastplate of protection and hope:

“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.”

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