Hospitality

I am the only white face within miles as I sit in the courtyard of a Presbyterian church in the highlands of Chiapas. Church members are starting to arrive for the 3 pm service and every man that arrives makes a point of coming over to me to shake my hand and says "me Hermano,” my brother in English. Later at the 4 meals I was served at the church, I was given the best plate in their collection. Everyone else ate from plain white enamel plates, but the one they gave me had a beautiful floral design.

I have always been impressed with the hospitality the people here extend to our work groups when we visit. But I have often wondered if it was because were an oddity, a large group of white Americans visiting their remote village. I am beginning to think that they just take the concept of Christian love more seriously than we do.

I can’t help but wonder what the reception would be for one Hispanic or African American if they visited an American Presbyterian Church. While I am sure that they would be greeted cordially, I doubt if every Deacon and Elder would go out of their way to welcome the visitor, much less address them as my brother. But that is in fact what we all are as believers in the risen Christ. We are brothers and sisters in Christ and we should not be embarrassed by addressing each other as such. God’s grace is something we often take for granted, when we should treat it as a precious gift that we display to all we know.