So many of us remember those early days when families who came as refugees from Burma began worshiping with us at Tabernacle. These were families with no place to call home—dehumanized by those in power and forced to leave everything behind in the place they once belonged. Many of them were grieving the traumatic loss of “home” and loved ones, the unspeakable atrocities of war etched into their stories. And yet, every Sunday, they joined us in the pews, filling the sanctuary with their presence.

It was a time of economic recession. All around us, a multitude of voices—both outside and within the church—expressed genuine concern about not having enough. Scarcity dominated the conversation, and the uncertainty of the moment weighed heavily on so many. And yet, there God was, providing in abundance.

When the offering plates were passed from hand to hand during the doxology, those same families—families struggling to feed their children—placed small bills into the plates. By the time the plates were carried forward, they were filled. What we thought we saw clearly at first grew richer and more profound as God’s hospitality continued to unfold before us, inviting us to grow in our understanding and trust.

We began to realize that what we were witnessing was far more than “us” hosting “them.” Between Sundays, we were invited into their temporary homes—apartments where rent was owed regardless of employment status. They welcomed us with open arms. They didn’t just share their stories; they shared their lives. They modeled faith.

It became clearer over time that this was not about “us” and “them” at all. God, the giver of life, was hosting all of us together. We brought the fish. They brought the loaves. We feasted at the family table together, and in God’s abundance, there were baskets of leftovers to share with others on the way.

I remember those days with deep longing. As we conclude the first month of 2025, we see division everywhere—in society, in our neighborhoods, and, yet again, within our own congregation. The “us” and “them” narrative has returned. There is so much talk of protecting borders, protecting institutions, protecting way of life, protecting legacy, protecting principle, protecting what’s ours.

But the only balm for the predictability of human behavior is the steadfast love of a God who sends strangers into our lives to show us the way home again.

From Abraham welcoming strangers into his tent to Jesus receiving the care of others during his ministry, God has always revealed divine hospitality through neighbors who extend trust and generosity. Again and again, we are reminded that God is the giver of all good things.

Even as the tension mounts, I find myself grateful that a growing number of us are coming to see the gift of God’s hospitality in our midst. On first and third Saturdays, there are droves of neighbors gathering in “our” building—each carrying different stories, perspectives, and needs—and yet the richness of God’s hospitality is being revealed through shared connection. In these spaces, God is changing and maturing our seeing, each at a different pace. For those with eyes to see, there is a growing awareness: we are becoming less and less the “helpers” and more and more people being hosted in the goodness of God.

And then there are more and more of us experiencing surprising life in growing relationships—with the staff, coaches, and community connected to ExCell, our Child Care Center Ministry, Alcoholics Anonymous, Lisu Grace Church, the Richmond Concert Band, ReEstablish Richmond, Akulana, Habitat for Humanity, diverse faith communities, neighbors living in houses surrounding “us,” and so many others whose lives and ministries are intertwined with our own.

Is it possible that the very thing we’ve been praying for—across generations—is unfolding right in front of us?

Could it be that we are becoming a neighborhood church again—not by reclaiming what was, but by having the courage to receive what God is giving now? That God is sending us neighbors to help us find our way back to our true selves…..to help us find “home” (again)….together (again)?

Do you suppose we still have it in us to embrace the truth that God’s hospitality isn’t something we offer, but something we are invited into (again)?

And if that’s true, will we have the courage to receive it (again)?

I pray we will. In fact, I see glimpses of it already.

Yours in Christ,

Rev. Sterling W. Severns, Senior Pastor

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Going Deeper: We are excited to explore how God is calling us to use the facilities entrusted to us more fully in this Mission. To learn more about how the cohort and grant opportunity can guide us in this next chapter of faithful stewardship, click here to read the Q&A and join the conversation.