Finding a Full Welcome

My parents live just outside of Cleveland. So not too far. Still, I don’t get up there as often as I probably could. But when I do, they are both so incredibly happy to see me. No guilt. No questions. Just hugs, kisses, smiles and laughter. A couple of years ago, I discovered that welcoming spirit when my husband Mark and I entered St. Barnabas Episcopal Church.

I honestly loved my Catholic upbringing. So much so that I became a catechist while I was still a member of the Catholic Church. I taught faith formation to children in 1st and 2nd grades as well as worked with our youth minister to walk with middle and high schoolers as they explored and even had questions about their faith. But perhaps my favorite teaching was First Communion to 2nd graders. Welcoming them to the Eucharistic table brought me such joy.

But the Catholic teaching of the sacrament filled me with so much anxiety as I tried to ignore what appeared an inherent teaching of exclusion in the name of the Body of Christ. Welcoming these young people to the table, wasn’t I simultaneously excluding so many others like their younger siblings or friends from other churches? As a child, how many times did I proudly invite non-Catholics to come to church with me only to tell them they had to sit out communion?

Knowing the liturgy would be similar to what we were familiar with, my husband and I felt pretty confident in our decision to visit an Episcopal church. What we didn’t expect when we visited St. Barnabas was how comfortable we would feel. From the “Visitor Parking” to the Greeters, to Jane’s welcoming during the service and the “come again” from many before we left. But it was the sacrament of communion that moved me most.

I still remember smiling and sometimes laughing as I watched the youngest children excitedly reach for the bread of Christ. I witnessed God in these moments. Their smiles and genuine curiosity still bring tears of joy to my eyes. I knew then, during that first service, I wanted to be part of this welcoming community.

As a former catechist, I knew the liturgy, parts of the mass, and the sacraments, but I wanted to learn to be more loving and welcoming like Jesus. The irony that I was leaving a Jesuit parish to be more like Jesus pained me. It still does. I miss praying and celebrating with my Catholic friends. But I do not miss the spiritual acrobatics needed to stay in the Catholic Church. These past few years have brought me peace with my faith. The Episcopal Church has shown me that I can love God and love all my neighbors as myself.

I now know I can fully welcome all my friends and family to join me at the Eucharistic table no matter who they are and without conditions. I love so much that St. Barnabas welcomes us to pray how we pray and celebrate the sacraments when and how we wish for ourselves and our children. But even more important than that, the Episcopal Church and St. Barnabas in particular, has helped me grow a more welcoming heart beyond the red doors by learning to greet others with smiles, hugs, maybe even kisses, and absolutely no guilt.

For more information about Kathy Stockman, you can read a blog post about her here.