Warm Welcome

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As if in rebuke to last week’s lament about the times I have felt unwelcome in the Church to which I have belonged since birth, during my two most recent visits to parishes I was warmly received.

The first instance occurred after deadline but before the paper went to press, so the participants at the tea sponsored by the Blessed Sacrament Council of Catholic Women could not have known my history when I appeared to take photos of the event. While I wandered about, seeking the best angle, at least half a dozen of the women urged me to join them at their various tables. I’d met many of them before because it’s my mother’s parish and also because I’ve talked with them at various DCCW events, but their friendliness was so genuine that I felt they were welcoming not Margaret’s daughter or the newspaper editor, but the me who often feels overlooked at social events because I am neither charming nor witty.

The second instance occurred this past Sunday, when I went to San Pablo Mission. The mission, almost 40 miles west of Cedar City at the edge of the Escalante Desert, is one of the few buildings along that stretch of Highway 18. The chapel is in the front room of what looks to be a single-story house. At least 100 men, women and children crowded into the mission for the celebration of the Eucharist on Oct. 27. Some had come from St. George and American Fork for the occasion, one of the concluding events of St. George Parish’s celebration of the Extraordinary Mission Month called for by Pope Francis. The afternoon included a social gathering at which members of the St. George-based group of the Missionaries of Jesus and Mary would speak. I was there to report on the story, and also was asked to do a pulpit appeal for subscriptions to our newspaper.

I arrived 10 minutes early, but already the chairs in the chapel were taken by people reciting the rosary. I stood in the hallway between the chapel and the kitchen, a vantage point from which I could take photos. As the minutes ticked by, more and more people arrived, filling the kitchen and a side room, both of which offered a limited view of the altar but were the only available space.

My first welcome came from Father Sébastien Sasa, who greeted me with the same warmth he showed to his parishioners, many of whom he spoke to by name. The next friendly gesture came before the first reading, when one of the choir members moved his chair into the hallway to give me a place to sit.

This kindness is perhaps unremarkable, for it is (or used to be) customary for a man to give up his seat to a woman. What came next, however, is without doubt worthy of comment.

When the Mass ended, I stayed for a time to interview people who regularly attend the mission. When I exited the building, one of the women asked in Spanish if I would like to follow her to the community center where the reception was held. She then waited alongside the road until I took a photo of the exterior of the mission. When we arrived at the community center, preparations for the luncheon still were under way, so I stepped out to answer a text. As I did so, another woman came out and invited me back in, asking me to stay.

All of these instances are wonderful examples of the welcome we Catholics are called to give the strangers in our midst as they come for worship, community and table fellowship. I am so grateful that my sisters and brothers at both the tea and the mission welcomed me, giving me moments of respite, companionship and encouragement in my journey toward our Father’s house.

Marie Mischel is editor of the Intermountain Catholic. She can be reached at marie@icatholic.org.