Stories of the Lutheran family bringing love to life...

SPE

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Africa’s frontline.Bushfires. Floods.

Hopelessly lost.

Together we can welcome the stranger

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Cover photo: Tatachilla Lutheran College students Brooke Hamilton and Tesema Habtamu Krause jam together. Meg Hansen Photography meghansen.com.au

It was a long, long time ago, in a place that is far, far away—but I still remember my first day at school. The place: Good Shepherd Lutheran School in Hamilton, Victoria. And the time? (Let’s just say, my birth year was etched on the school’s foundation stone.)

Why do I remember that day so vividly? Because of Debbie. Like me, it was her first day at school. Unlike me, she was friendly and outgoing. With her simple, five-year-old’s question, ‘Want to share my pencils?’ she made me feel more at home in school than anyone else was able to on that day. We were good friends for years.

It is great to feel welcomed into a new place—whether it is a school, a workplace, a church, a business, a restaurant. When we have a choice, don’t we return to places where we’ve felt welcomed? Welcomes stay with us. That’s why we have created this special edition of The Lutheran for you. Regardless of where you might be in your life, we want you to feel welcomed by us as you explore the stories that follow.

Why? Because as Christians we understand that the gospel is Jesus’ own welcome to us and through us. That the Jesus who didn’t hesitate to be seen with outcasts, to speak to people whom ‘respectable people’ shunned, to heal anyone in need regardless of their race, creed or culture—asks us to do the same. To welcome strangers as though they were our very best friends.

This time around we are welcoming a very special audience to join us: the families of students in Lutheran schools around Australia. Thanks to Lutheran Education Australia, we have been able to give this edition of The Lutheran to the families and staff of every Lutheran school. So I guess the obvious next question is, ‘Want to share our stories?’

You’ll meet TJ, who knows first-hand what it means to be a stranger, in a strange land. And he’s got tips to help you make the next stranger you come across feel welcomed. You’ll meet Yunus, another stranger, who has made a new life with a new purpose in Australia. And you’ll meet the pastor, Dr Bruno Muetzelfeldt, once a stranger himself, who helped countless strangers to find welcome in strange lands.

Welcome begins with us. If you are a naturally shy person like me, it can be uncomfortable to step towards a stranger and make the first move. But to be a church where love comes to life it is vital that we do, and the rewards can be so great. The writer to the Hebrews says, ‘Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing so some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it’ (13:2). I pray you’ll find angels here too.

Rosie Schefe Editor – The Lutheran

EDITOR/ADVERTISINGEditor: Rosie Schefe Phone: 0427 827 441 Email: rosie.schefe@lca.org.au

SUBSCRIPTIONSPhone: 08 8360 7270 Email: lutheran.subs@lca.org.au www.thelutheran.com.au

We Love The Lutheran!

As the magazine of the Lutheran Church of Australia (incorporating the Lutheran Church of New Zealand), The Lutheran informs the members of the LCA about the church’s teaching, life, mission and people, helping them to grow in faith and commitment to Jesus Christ. The Lutheran also provides a forum for a range of opinions, which do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the editor or the policies of the Lutheran Church of Australia. The Lutheran is a member of the Australasian Religious Press Association and as such subscribes to its journalistic and editorial codes of conduct.Design and layout: Comissa Fischer/Openbook Howden Printer: Openbook Howden

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IN THIS EDITION

03 Are we going to Hallelujah?

06 To the stranger, with love

07 I once was lost

10 Lutheran hospitality— neither dampened nor scorched

12 A bridge to common ground

14 Aware and active

16 You’re welcome!

17 A lifeline for Barbara

18 A hearty welcome and a new beginning

20 An alien in the pulpit

21 As long as I am needed

25 Giving when all is gone

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You’re Welcome June 20152 Vol 49 No5 P146

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Tesema is thirteen. He was four years old when he was adopted

from Ethiopia. Now a Year 8 student at Tatachilla Lutheran

College in South Australia, Tesema

shares his feelings about being welcomed.

‘Are we going to Hallelujah?’

by Tesema James (TJ) Habtamu Krause

From an orphanage in Ethiopia to theLutheran college at Tatachilla—

what welcome awaits?

June 2015 You’re Welcome 3Vol 49 No5 P147

saying goodbye to my mother. It was far from our house, and we went there by minivan. I have never seen my birth mother since.

At the orphanage our only food was mashed potatoes twice a day.

While we kids over the age of one-and-a-half only had mashed potatoes, the kids under that age had really good food. I got jealous of that. One day the lady who fed the little ones was late to turn up,

and we went over and ate the food of the young ones. It was yummy.

There was a good time once. The lady turned up late again. There was a big green door she had to open up to get into the orphanage. It was good she turned up late because we got into the room for the little ones, where they had toys. It was the first time we ever got to play with toys.

Then we heard her coming, and we had the quickest clean-up of our life.

At the orphanage Abebaw was picked on a bit. One time he wanted to go outside, and there were

I was born in 2001. We lived in Addis Ababa.

As a child we were very poor. We lived in a mud house, I think. We slept on the floor.

Our clothes were very dirty because we had to wear the same clothes every day.

I can’t remember what we had to eat. The water we had to drink was very unclean. We didn’t have a toilet, just went outside at the back.

What I remember about Ethiopia is it was very dry.

My mum was usually a cheerful person. She had to walk a lot. My dad was very protective. He loved us. He slept right next to the door in case anyone tried to barge into the house.

One day my dad took me to work. He died in front of me.

He worked with animals and he got charged by a bull. I knew he’d died, and I felt really sad. Our mum was really sad for a long time.

Mum couldn’t care for us, and we had to go to the orphanage.

My little brother Abebaw went with me. The orphanage had green sheds we stayed in, and one main building in a square shape. I was two-and-a-half years old when I went there. Abebaw was just a baby.

‘It was really late at night when we went, so I can’t really remember

I was told I was going to get adopted, and that Abebaw was going to come with me. That was really good, because I knew we were going to go somewhere better.

When people gave us presents,that made us feel welcome.

Especially food. And hugs.

these guys making a fire, and they grabbed him and put his hand over the fire. I quickly went over and got him and took him away. But he had a big black mark on his arm.

We were at the orphanage for a year-and-a-half.

I was told I was going to get adopted, and that Abebaw was going to come with me. That was really good, because I knew we were going to go somewhere better.

I was very happy when I saw my new mum.

When I first saw her we ran over and they gave us a big hug, and then they gave us our first pair of shoes. I was very happy, jumping up and down. They gave me my first new toy. I still have it. It was a little guy in an ice-cream truck, and you push it, and it plays the ice-cream song.

Then we went to this big room, and I got my first big meal in all my life. It was fish and chips.

There was a lady there who helped us find our way. We got to the hotel

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room, and they asked us who the people with us were, and I said this is our dad. I wouldn’t stop talking. I could speak Amharic very fast.

I almost got lost in the airport. The aeroplane felt like a rollercoaster. All the way Abebaw was screaming because he had an ear infection.

When we arrived, it was in Alice Springs. We ran off the plane and found family cousins. Josiah was there—our new brother. He was ten, or eleven, and we gave him a big hug.

We got home and got out our Ethiopian hats, and our drums, and started playing them for the family. There was a man from Ethiopia there, who translated everything for us. I think the first thing I said was ‘I want more chicken’.

Most people treated us good. Sometimes people would just stare because we were different. Most people felt we were very cute, and that took away the staring.

When people gave us presents, that made us feel welcome. Especially food. And hugs.

My first English words were ‘Harley Davidson’. We were driving and my big brother saw a motorbike and told me the word. Then the postman would come to our house, and I’d point at his bike and say ‘Harley Davidson’. He’d say ‘I wish’.

With church I always used to ask, ‘Are we going to Hallelujah?’, because that was the main song.

Going to church, it feels good when people welcome you. Sometimes when people say ‘Hi’, but just stop there and don’t keep talking, that makes you feel unwelcome.

We go to Tatachilla Lutheran College.

Our first day was really good because I met heaps of people, and they were all really nice and introducing of themselves. I made heaps of friends. It’s great when everybody comes and says ‘Hi’ and talks to you, and finds out what you like, and lets you join them.

There was one other school I went to where there was one person who was mean. He used to say racist things, but then he stopped. Most times people are not racist.

I now have a new family and the hardest thing is there are so many names to remember. It feels good. It’s very comfortable because we have so much family around and get to do so much stuff. I have a very cheeky grandpa—Grandpa Colin.

I still miss my older brother though, because he lives far away.

I think the best way to welcome someone is not try to force them to do something. Just tell them you have something, but ask them what they like to do.

You could have one night a week for all the new people, so you could get to know them. You could have a Feeding Frenzy, a Free Food Night, so people could come along. You could talk and go and do stuff. If they’re young, just try to have heaps of fun. If people are shy, they could have a postcard they could write on to tell people they are new.

I think you should let everybody know who the new people are, so people can make a special effort to welcome them.

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Below: TJ (left) plays with his very first toy, as he and Abebaw get to know their new mum, Julie.

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5October 2014 You’re Welcome

When was the last time you felt you were a stranger?

For some of us, it hardly ever happens. For others, it is a daily experience.

There are, of course, degrees of being a stranger. As I write this column, I am in Germany. I don’t speak German, so every encounter becomes a combination of gestures, half-spoken words, and generous, willing smiles from the local people. I am a stranger here, yet I understand the basic system. Things work out.

I had quite a different experience in Khartoum once, with some colleagues. We were visiting a Sufi mosque when a large crowd of men suddenly appeared and pressed against us. A female colleague felt so threatened that we had to leave immediately. We were strangers, and not particularly welcome ones.

I can’t imagine what it is like to experience that kind of hostility every day. What of those who have no safe country to return to and no place that particularly wants them? This has become a big issue in Australia, with our policy of

‘turning back the boats’ and denying safe haven to anyone who arrives in that way. We have seen the psychological and physical devastation this causes, but we continue with the policy nevertheless.

The theme of this issue of The Lutheran, ‘Welcoming the Stranger’, is particularly relevant. In Luke 6:32,33 Jesus challenges his disciples: ‘If you love those who love you, what credit is

that to you? For even sinners love those who love them … But love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return.’

Welcoming the stranger should not be big news for Christians. What else can we expect? We are simply passing on to others what we

ourselves have received. God rightly expects it of us, just as he expected the Israelites to welcome strangers because that’s who they once were (Deuteronomy 10:19).

This doesn’t just mean welcoming our friends, those we feel comfortable with. The stranger can be someone whose differences we find confronting. It includes people who we sometimes might fear. It is risky. It is being willing to tell people why we do it, and about the Saviour who loves us so much he gave us everything.

I hope this issue inspires you to do what you can to extend the hand of friendship to the strangers who continue to arrive among us, and whom God asks us to love, as he has loved us.

Bishop John Henderson’s ‘Heartland’ column is a regular feature in The Lutheran.

To the stranger, with love

“The stranger can be someone whose differences we find confronting

by LCA Bishop John Henderson

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I once was lostby Mark Worthing

nearer than we think

value of my faith is to welcome the stranger, the refugee, the internally displaced, the other. I shall treat him or her as I would like to be treated. I will challenge others … to do the same.’ But who really is ‘the stranger’?

In May 2006 I was in Iran, to speak at a conference on religion and medicine at Tehran University. I arrived early, so decided to head into the old city and check out its famed bookstores and food stalls. In my enthusiasm, I failed to note the name of the hotel at which I was staying or even the name of the suburb in which it was located. By about 10.00 pm I was getting cold and I realised I was hopelessly lost in this very foreign city of

In 2013 the Lutheran World Federation (LWF) adopted and released a statement titled ‘Welcoming the Stranger’ and challenged Lutherans around the world to consider their mission and ministry in light of this profound biblical principle.

At the fourth Australian Conference on Lutheran Education (ACLE 4), held in Brisbane in September 2013, about 1000 Australian Lutheran educators were challenged by LWF president, Bishop Munib Younan, to think about what it means to welcome the stranger.

The LWF statement Bishop Younan introduced begins by asking us to make a personal pledge: ‘A core

14 million Farsi speakers. With my blue eyes, pale skin, brown hair (yes, it was once brown!) and Western dress, I stood out as being out of place. After many acts of hospitality by ‘strangers’ who spoke a little English, or German, or French, I finally arrived back at my hotel in the early hours of the morning. I will never forget the dozens of Iranians willing to help the stranger among them that chilly May night.

That incident gave me a new perspective on the concept of the stranger. I had always assumed the stranger was someone else, someone who needed my help. As the LWF statement reminds us, ‘we are all considered “strangers” somewhere’.

Perhaps ‘the stranger’ is

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and for us, so that we will no longer be strangers. As Martin Luther put it, ‘God, who has been reconciled to us in Christ, loves us and is nothing but love ... [God] wants to be known by us as a reconciled father, and not as an angry judge’ (Luther’s Works vol 30 p293). No-one could go further in welcoming the stranger than what Jesus did to welcome us. We cannot be reconciled by one who does not come to meet us where we are at, at our own level and in our own context. This is why it was necessary for God to become human. This is why God chose to suffer and die on the cross. It belongs to the essence of who God is to reconcile himself to the stranger.

I also began to think about the stranger in the context of God’s relationship with human beings. We are all estranged from God, out of place, lost, in need of help. But God does not let us remain strangers. He welcomes us in and through his Son, Jesus Christ. God makes us one with him so that we are no longer strangers before God.

In theological language, we call this the doctrine of reconciliation. As the apostle Paul tells us, ‘God has reconciled us to himself through Jesus Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation’ (2 Corinthians 5:18). Imagine that! God takes human form in Jesus and lives and dies among us

“ I was hopelessly lost in this very foreign city

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In response to God’s great act of welcoming us as strangers through reconciling us to himself, we are called to welcome those who seem ‘the stranger’ to us. When we do this we are reflecting and living out the welcome which we ourselves have received from God in Christ. That is the ‘ministry of reconciliation’ of which Paul speaks. When welcoming the stranger is grounded in the Christian understanding of reconciliation, it becomes the foundation for all aspects of mission, whether telling people about Jesus, engaging in social ministry, or advocating on behalf of the oppressed and marginalised.

The one who welcomed us as strangers is the same one who turns to us and says, ‘In as much as you have done this for the least of these—for the strangers among you—you have done it unto me’ (see Matthew 25: 34–40). As Martin Luther explained: when we welcome the stranger, when we show hospitality ‘we may be sure God himself is in our home, is being fed at our house, is lying down and resting’ (Luther’s Works vol 3, p189).

The Reconciler of strangers calls us to live out our reconciliation and to be witnesses of this reconciliation by welcoming the stranger wherever we may encounter him or her. It is like the story Jesus told of the king who forgave a great debt, only to find that the one whom he forgave did not pass on this kindness to others (Matthew 18: 23–35). God

“ I had always assumed the stranger wassomeone else, someone who needed my help

calls us to pass on to others the welcome we have received as strangers. Those of us who were once strangers to God, and are now made God’s friends through Jesus Christ, are called in all that we do and say to make welcome everyone in our community, in our congregations and into the kingdom of God as part of our witness to the reconciliation we have experienced in Christ.

So, who is the stranger? This is reminiscent of the question the teacher of the law asked Jesus: ‘Just who is our neighbour?’ As Old Testament law held up many obligations towards one’s neighbour, there was great interest in defining ‘the neighbour’ very tightly (so as to avoid too many responsibilities). In Jesus’ day, many teachers advised that the neighbour was any adult male living on your street within four houses of your own. Remember Jesus’ answer to this question? He told the story of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10: 29–37). Christians are well versed in the correct response to the question; ‘Who is my neighbour?’

My neighbour is anyone in need.

But have we given the same thought to the equally important question, ‘Who is the stranger?’ How many of us ask, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you?’(Matthew 25:38).

Who is the stranger? We look around us and see the refugee, the new Australian in foreign dress and with strange customs, and we think we know who the stranger is. Indeed, those people who seem so different from us are often the stranger to us. That is, until we stop to have a chat with them on the street, invite them over for a meal, see their children in school with our children, see them coaching our daughter’s soccer team, or meet them at our door delivering fresh vegies from their garden as a gift. Then they are no longer the stranger because we know them. We have a relationship with them. They have become ‘us’.

It is the same with Jesus: once we know him, once we enter into a relationship with him, we are no longer strangers. So, who then, are the strangers? We all started out as strangers before God. And a little bit of ‘the stranger’ remains in all of us. Anyone who is lost, broken, alone, in need, isolated, is the stranger. Anyone in need of reconciliation in Christ is the stranger. We are all ‘the stranger’.

Rev Dr Mark Worthing is pastor of Immanuel Lutheran Church, North Adelaide.

“ We are allconsidered

somewherestrangers

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