Last year a coworker mentioned at a staff meeting that they were looking for people to sit at the desk at the Bryn Athyn Cathedral. It is not a skilled position, but rather addresses the need for a human face to welcome visitors during a wedding rehearsal or choir practice. 

 

I could do that. 

 

She was only talking about a few hours. Recently, there was an event involving people who have never been in the building before, and it was my good luck to help them find their way through the stone arches. There are, it turns out, a spread of doors to navigate. I had forgotten that, because I already know the way. 

 

Then everyone caught up to the minister, and immersed themselves in preparations for the ceremony the following day. I was delighted to see twin girls among them, who are probably giddy to be flower girls. I resisted the urge to inform anyone that I am blessed with twins too, the ones who live and learn in another country, immersed in a culture I would be lost in. But I surely thought about them, both now when they are college students and long ago when they were little girls in matching dresses. 

 

I noticed the awkwardness that some participants seemed to carry, unsure of where to stand or what to expect. I overheard that there were parents as well as step parents in the party. Everyone was on their best behavior, having taken time off work, packed their bags, and ordered formal wear months ago. Today they could dress comfortably. Tomorrow they would spend hours getting their hair and makeup just right. 

 

Then one of the relatives asked me about the Cathedral. Who built it? Who designed it? Who funded it? I was embarrassed by my own ignorance. I said a few random details about the artisans, and the effort to reflect the beauty of nature. He seemed satisfied with that brief response, and rejoined the group. But I would like to have clear answers. 

 

Recently I have been reflecting on what the welcome to heaven will be like. Do newcomers have questions? Is there a kind face at the door? Are there multiple entrances? Will we feel awkward? 

 

Probably most of us feel vulnerable about our imperfect past. Relationships that went awry, or years when we lost our bearings. Yet God assures us that we are part of the guest list. 

 

 

"Everyone who enters the other world, without exception, is a wanted, welcomed newcomer." Secrets of Heaven 2119, Emanuel Swedenborg