On Thursday, January 23, Trinity United Methodist Church in Richmond hosted a  L ARCUM sponsored service for the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity. The week runs from the Confession of Peter (Jan. 18) to the Conversion of St. Paul (Jan. 25). It is an opportunity for Christians around the world to pray together for the unity of the Church, a unity that has already been given to us by God through Christ's prayer, recorded in John 17.

 The service can take many different forms, depending upon the wishes of community gathered. This year in Richmond the organizers used the Graymoore Institute's order of worship prepared by the Christian churches in Malta and Gozo, using St. Paul's arrival at their islands as told in Acts 27 and 28. This year's theme was the words of 28:2, "They showed us unusual kindness."

   The preacher for the service was the Rev. Mary Anne Glover, interim general minister of the Virginia Council of Churches. She picked up on this theme of radical hospitality by starting with a story from her own upbringing of a father and mother practicing their own radical hospitality by making sure two chairs at the dinner table were always left open. By the time the meal started they were filled with strangers out of work or home, strangers in need of encouragement or money. Every time they left with a promise by her father to help them look for work or a place to live, a handshake that contained small amounts of money...and containers from her mother "full of the leftovers."

    Throughout her sermon Pastor Glover wove in some basic questions so in need to be asked in these days. What would radical hospitality mean today? What would it look like today? Do you shake hands with a dismissive "How do you do?" or do you hold on to hear their answers? What is it that we can do and say at the elevator, the gas station, in the darkness? How do you extend radical hospitality to those who are far different from you? How do you extend it to those who have walked for days to get here, to this country, this community? Pastor Glover concluded with the admonition, "Radical hospitality is done because I am a child of God," and then asked one last question, "What would it take for you to reach this kind of radical hospitality?"

      During the "Greeting of Peace," the assembled took up Pastor Glover's call. Those in the pews got out to greet each other in the center aisle; the pastors got out of the chancel to greet everyone. This simple act was a sure sign of radical hospitality.

 

(Retired Pastor Eric Moehring is the ecumenical representative for the Synod.)

In late May, I flew to Santiago de Compostela, Spain to begin two weeks of pilgrimage along the Camino de Santiago. The Camino is comprised of several pilgrimage routes established by the Catholic Church that lead from France and Portugal into the city of Santiago de Compostela in northern Spain.
            Catholics believe that the body of St. James was transported in a stone boat to this region of Spain, where it was later discovered by a monk in the 9th century. King Alfonso II made the first pilgrimage to the holy site and many followed his example during the medieval period. The Camino declined in popularity until the route was officially marked in the 1980s. Today, over 300,000 people from across the globe travel the Camino each year.
            For my pilgrimage, I traveled with a group of 16 other students from the College of William and Mary as part of a study abroad experience. Everything I needed for my two weeks fit in my backpack. It contained only one other outfit, a sleeping bag, simple toiletries, a notebook, lots of band-aids, and more granola bars than I should've been able to fit. Most importantly, I had my pilgrim's credential to collect stamps along my route to receive my Compostela, which gave me extra forgiveness of sins.
            I bought a one-way ticket to Leon, a city 200 miles away from Santiago and began my walk back to Santiago. Each day, I put on my hiking boots at 5 a.m. to walk 16 miles to the next destination. After walking, I waited in long lines for the shower, did my laundry in a small outdoor sink, enjoyed the traditional three-course meal, took advantage of siesta time, and explored the village. I learned to cobble together enough Spanish to get by, though, I did accidentally order myself octopus for dinner once.
            The Camino is the greatest example of how people from all over the world can come together. While walking, each pilgrim greets you with "buen camino" and they often take the time to share their stories. I met a German woman walking in memory of her father, two recent college graduates taking a break before they started their office jobs, and an Argentinian woman searching for clarity after losing her job. The Camino encouraged me to reach out to those around me and be flexible. It allowed me to take a break and be present with God. It was a life-changing experience filled with the pain of many blisters, but also, pure joy when I finally walked arm in arm with my fellow pilgrims into the cathedral square.
            In divisive times, the Camino proves that people are really not so different, especially when you share the dust of 200 miles on your boots.