Last week I spent a few days in the Georgia Mountains. While driving through the town of Clayton, I saw a large sign that read “Welcome – Bienvenidos.” It was the sign for Saint Helena Catholic Church. I took a left turn down a beautifully landscaped road and after a few seconds, the parish stood to my left. Its white tower stood in contrast to the green, wooded mountain behind it. I parked and approached. The door was unlocked so I entered and remained praying inside for about thirty minutes. Though there was no usher or greeter present to welcome me, I felt welcomed. I had read the sign, and the door had been unlocked. I had been welcomed by Christ himself who had been waiting for me in the utter silence of this parish nestled in the Georgia Mountains.
In the exhortation Evangelii Gaudium, Pope Francis described the Church as a mother with an open heart whose doors are always open to go forth toward others. He taught that the Church is called to be the house of the Father, with doors always wide open. Just as the father in the Parable of the Prodigal Son always kept his door open hoping his son would return, the Church must not create obstacles when her children return to her. The Pope wrote, “the Church is not a tollhouse; it is the house of the Father, where there is a place for everyone, with all their problems” (EG, 47). Pope Francis commented that a concrete sign of the Church’s openness is that the doors of churches should always be open. I benefited from this while visiting Saint Helena, and I am grateful for it.
Before reaching Clayton, I visited Camp Covecrest in Tiger, Georgia. Covecrest is a Catholic camp that provides experiences for high schoolers so they may encounter Christ in a new, more profound way. During my brief visit, not only did I feel welcomed, but I felt at home. Those who work at the camp “welcomed me home.” A young lady (whom I had met a few months ago) gave me a tour of the camp. While there, I saw several people I knew from before, and I did not know they were at camp that week. One young man I met ten years ago while I was studying in Rome! We have a friend in common and I had not seen him since 2006.
Hospitality, the ministry of welcoming, is real within the Church because we are all united in Christ. In welcoming the other, we welcome Christ. United by our common baptism, we are called to welcome others because we are already one. I saw no familiar faces at the parish, and many familiar ones at Covecrest, but the experience was the same: it was an encounter with Christ who opens his arms to me, to you, in a warm welcome, as he nestles us towards his heart.
The pictures are mine, all rights reserved.
Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In