A Place of Refuge, A Warm Welcome
These six cities shall be for refuge for the people of Israel, and for the stranger and for the sojourner among them, that anyone who kills any person without intent may flee there. Numbers 35:15
Day turned to night. A damp coldness settled across The Land. Wrapped in layers of every piece of clothing they owned, with small satchels tied to their backs, they set out through the city gates, with hopes of reaching Hebron by nightfall. She knew deep down her husband wasn’t capable of killing anyone, but he was accused, and basically that meant a death sentence if they stayed in their hometown. The journey would be dangerous, but she knew God would protect them. She had heard the miraculous stories from the time she was very young, and she knew they were true. God would protect them.
The first light of dawn began to brighten the eastern sky. The journey had been treacherous over the mountainous terrain. Only a little while longer, she thought. She hoped. The terrain had flattened now, and she could see signs of city life just ahead. Out of nowhere she heard something. It sounded like a whisper. Her husband heard it too. They stopped and listened. A man appeared from behind a cluster of trees. “Over here. I’m not going to harm you. Come here.” If this was an ambush, it was too late to escape. They walked over to the man. “You’re headed to Hebron?” They nodded yes. “You are almost there. Just a few more kilometers and you will be safe. Now go. Hurry. It will be daylight soon.”
They set off for the final few steps of their journey. As she turned around to look at the kind stranger–the town greeter, he said in a loud whisper, “Welcome home! I don’t know your story, but you will be safe here.”
Matt and I recently joined the Next Steps team at our church. To put it into perspective for those of you who are churchgoers, we are basically greeters. But to say the word “basically,” and to call us “just greeters” is such a vast understatement. We arrive about an hour before the service on Sunday morning to help prepare for the people who will be attending that service. We pray for every person who will walk through the doors of the church. My heart is warmed every week as I participate in these preparations. To think that for the last seven months, a team of people prayed for our family as we were checking out this church. Once the doors open we stand in our assigned section and welcome all the guests to the church. It is an amazing experience and brings me so much joy. But come to find out, this is just one little step in a very intentional process.
On any given Sunday, a visitor will be waved at and smiled at as they pull into the parking lot. They will be greeted at the door. They will visit with someone in the lobby before the doors to the Worship Center open, and then they will shake hands with several auditorium hosts before they even find their seat. The thought process behind this is that church happens before the service even starts.
Church happens before the service even starts.
Unpack that thought for a minute. I’ve known for a long time that the church is about the community of people. It is the people. But on Sunday mornings, for most of my life, that thought seems to disappear for me. Church suddenly becomes what is happening right in front of me, while I sit comfortably and take it all in. It’s the worship music, the message, the prayer times. I shake a hand or two, and call it good. Done and done. That’s church. But, oh my goodness, I have missed this very simple point. This new thought has changed me forever.
It was in our Team Huddle last Sunday that this concept started to make sense to me. We heard a poignant devotional about the Old Testament refugee cities. Now I let my imagination run away with me a bit at the beginning of this post. Don’t go look for the scriptures that tell this particular story, because you won’t find them. But it’s not hard to picture, is it? Someone on the run, struggling to make sense of life, wishing and hoping for a new start. And out of nowhere comes a voice in the woods encouraging them that they are almost there. A place of refuge is straight ahead . They just need to walk a little further.
So that being said, picture if you will, in your God-given imagination, a family of four making their way to church on a Sunday morning. It’s June. It’s Father’s Day weekend in fact. And it’s the hottest day of the year so far. They are weighted down by the burdens of life: job stress, financial stress, parenting stress, weary bodies, past hurts, and anxious thoughts about visiting a church. They come up on a building near downtown Mesa, and proceed into the parking lot where they are greeted with a warm smile from a man standing at the parking lot entrance. They proceed to the building where someone outside says, “You are almost there. Just a few more steps.” They walk in and are greeted by people they’ve never met before, who are totally excited they are there. They make their way to a seat where someone grabs their hand and says, “You’ve arrived. We are so glad you’re here. Welcome home!”
We who have run for our very lives to God have every reason to grab the promised hope with both hands and never let go. It’s an unbreakable spiritual lifeline, reaching past all appearances right to the very presence of God where Jesus, running on ahead of us, has taken up his permanent post as high priest for us…Hebrews 6:18-20 MSG
