All of You is Welcome Here

some more thoughts on authenticity

My friend Brian opened a retreat this week by saying, “All of you are welcome here. All of you is welcome here.”

Take a moment to reflect on that second sentence.

Do you have a space in which all of you is welcome?

Do you have a space where your faults, fears, insecurities, hopes, dreams, ambitions, past, present, and future is seen? is heard? has a place at the table?

That space can be an actual space like a church or a group of people such as a hiking group or a service club. But that space can also be a person like a friend or spouse. Your space might even be an animal or animals (shout out to my friend who always remembers the animals).

Henry David Thoreau once said that he enjoyed going to the woods “where [he] is better known.”

Whether it is a church or a friend group, a spouse or a puppy, we all need somewhere where we can be ourselves, who we truly are. This is one of the things I love about Jesus; he welcomed everyone while also welcoming every one.

Simon the zealot, Matthew the tax collector.
Mary the possessed, Joanna the wife of Herod’s steward Chuzza.
Thomas the doubter, Judas the betrayer.
The Samaritan woman (Photine), and humble mother Mary.
Peter the loud mouth, John the beloved.
Phoebe the deacon, the widow at Nain .
Nicodemus the Pharisee, Paul the persecutor.

Daniel the preacher rockstar, blogger extraordinaire, magician, mandolin enthusiast, Daniel the insecure, anxiety ridden, unsure of himself wanderer.

And you along with everything that makes you you.

Yes, Jesus meets us where we are at. As the old hymn says, he welcomes me “Just As I Am.”

But we mustn’t think that Jesus meets us where we are at so that we will stay wherever we are at. Sure, he may sit at the table with us or rest with us at the well, but during those times of conversation, he eventually gets to one of his favorite lines: “rise and follow me.”

And where is it he will lead?

Well, actually to ourselves.

Not the chameleon self who changes color so much that it doesn’t even remember what it actually looks like, but the self who we are called to be: our original self, made in the likeness of God, made good and for goodness, made lovely for love, made uniquely us, a wonderful piece of art.

In leading you to God, you are invited to bring “all of you.” You are invited to show God all of those different colors, different masks, and, in the Presence of Love, you are welcome to place those upon the cross and submit them to the power of the resurrection.

This “false self” gives way to the true self, the self known by God from all eternity.

Throughout our lives we collect all sorts of baggage. This baggage gathers dust, and it becomes so familiar to us that we can’t distinguish the baggage from ourselves.

Sure, we may get glimpses of our true self.

As we enter one of those spaces I mentioned earlier, where we can be who we are meant to be, the joy, the love, the acceptance we feel may be so beautiful, so wonderful that we don’t want to go back to the illusion.

But if you’re like me, these moments of being seen as we truly are, vulnerabilities and all, is so amazingly wonderful while also being profoundly sad.

Why sad?

Because we know that these moments are fleeting. We know that we aren’t at a place yet where we feel safe to come out of our shells. Whether it is fear of rejection or even fear of acceptance, there is something that tells us that these moments of being truly welcomed can’t last forever.

And this voice, of course, is a lie.

Sure, we may face rejection, heartbreak, or loss of community, but there is One (Three) who loves us perfectly.

You may have missed it. Maybe you didn’t. Maybe you actually are a lot like me.

But I mentioned above that it might be the fear of acceptance that keeps us down.

I think this might actually be one of the things I deal with most, and it is closely related to the fear of rejection.

I have so many friends who affirm my gifts and talents, the things I know that I love to do and can excel at, my ikigai. And something within me knows they are on to something.

But what happens when more people catch on to that secret? What happens if I actually did get that book deal or that golden opportunity? Would I be able to stay me? Would I be able to remain humble? Would I stay true to myself?

And even worse…

Don’t those people know they are all wrong about me? Don’t they know I stumble over my words, procrastinate, am totally inconsistent, and am deathly afraid of heights?

All you are welcome here. All of you is welcome here.

All of me?

Do you even know what you’re getting yourself into?

Do you even want to know?

And so the fear of acceptance comes from a fear of rejection, or perhaps even an experience of rejection, a rejection of self.

Can I tell you something? Just you, the reader, and me, the one scribbling out these things?

You are welcome here. You are welcome with me. Whether you happen to be a member of the congregation I work with, a friend of mine, someone who has followed me for years, someone who I’ve met this week or have yet to meet, or a person who just happened upon this post, I want you to know you are welcome in my presence.

I’m only one person, so I don’t always have time to answer every email, respond to every message, or to take every call, but in every way I possibly can, I hope you feel welcome here. Because whatever insecurities you have, whatever fears you have, whatever secret sins (or whatever you might call it) you might have, I’m right there with you. And that’s why I write posts like this: to let you know you aren’t alone.

We are all perfectly imperfect and perfectly loved.