Recently Killy and I embarked on what we thought would be a straightforward journey.
The alarm sounded at 3am!
We were travelling from Heathrow to Lisbon where we had been invited to minister at an international sports ministry conference.
Everything at Heathrow went remarkably smoothly. Check-in was easy. Security was efficient. The flight departed on time. The journey lasted just over two hours. What could possibly go wrong?
As it turns out, quite a lot.
When we landed in Lisbon, all non-EU passengers were directed into a separate queue. Actually, queue is not quite the right word. A queue moves. This didn’t. This was more of a large gathering of weary pilgrims united by a common dream of one day entering Portugal.
Hundreds of people were already waiting and more were arriving every minute. We discovered that everyone had to use biometric machines for fingerprints and photographs.
There were fifteen machines. Several weren’t working. The queue barely moved. I have seen garden snails with a stronger sense of urgency.
One member of staff stood nearby. Doing nothing. Not almost nothing. Nothing. Had she been any more stationary, local authorities might have listed her as a monument.
Eventually another official arrived. She began shouting instructions. The only problem was that nobody seemed to understand what she was saying. People looked at each other with that familiar international expression which means: ’Do you understand?’
‘No.’
‘Neither do I.’
As the minutes turned into an hour I was reminded of Psalm 40:1, ‘I waited patiently for the Lord to help me’ (NLT).
I confess I was practising the waiting part more successfully than the patiently part.
Finally, we reached a machine. We entered our details. Submitted our fingerprints. Posed for our photographs.
Then we were told to join another queue. Apparently one queue was merely an introduction. There was another queue with hundreds more passengers. Another machine. Another checkpoint. Another official shouting. Another opportunity to cultivate the fruit of the Spirit. Particularly patience.
St Paul tells us in Galatians 5:22 that patience is evidence of the Holy Spirit’s work. I suspect Lisbon Airport has helped many Christians mature spiritually.
Two hours later we finally emerged.
Two hours. Exactly the same amount of time it had taken us to fly from London to Lisbon. Think about that. The journey through the airport took as long as the journey through the sky.
Some experiences in life are like that. The destination is reached quickly. The processing takes much longer. God often gets us where we need to be before he finishes teaching us what we need to learn.
By this point we were trying to stay cheerful. ‘At least,’ we joked, ‘our luggage will be waiting for us.’
How wrong could we be? Very!
We checked the screen, found the carousel. Waited. No luggage. Waited some more. Still no luggage. Then the screen changed. Our luggage had apparently moved to another carousel without consulting us.
Eventually we found our bags and reunited with them in a scene that would not have looked out of place in a romantic movie!
But what struck me most was not the queues, not the machines, not even the missing luggage. It was the signs. Everywhere there were large signs saying: WELCOME TO PORTUGAL.
The signs welcomed us, but nobody else did. No smiles, no greetings, no friendly faces. No one saying, ‘We’re happy you’ve arrived.’ The signs said one thing. The atmosphere said another.
And that made me think. (I had two hours to think!) Isn’t that true sometimes in life? Churches can have welcome signs and yet not be welcoming. Organisations can have welcome teams and yet not be welcoming. Families can say ‘welcome’ and yet not be welcoming.
The Bible repeatedly calls us to hospitality. ‘Don’t forget to show hospitality to strangers, for some who have done this have entertained angels without realising it!’ (Hebrews 13:2 NLT).
A sign can welcome people to a building but only people can welcome people into a community. Jesus was extraordinary at making people feel welcome. Children felt welcome. Tax collectors felt welcome. Sinners felt welcome. Outcasts felt welcome. The broken felt welcome. The overlooked felt welcome. No one ever met Jesus and thought, ‘I don’t think he wants me here.’
One of my favourite descriptions of God appears in Luke 15. The prodigal son returns home rehearsing his apology. Before he can even finish his speech, his father runs to meet him, embraces him and welcomes him home.
That is the heart of God. Not merely tolerated. Not merely processed. Not merely admitted. Welcomed.
What a contrast.
At Lisbon Airport I had my fingerprints checked. In heaven, I don’t think God will be interested in my fingerprints. He will be looking at whether my name is written in the Lamb’s Book of Life.
Then another thought crossed my mind: I sincerely hope arrivals in heaven are not organised like arrivals in Lisbon.
‘Estimated waiting time: forever.’
Thankfully, heaven won’t be like that. Jesus said to the thief on the cross: ‘Today you will be with me in paradise’ (Luke 23:43 NLT).
Not: ‘Today your paperwork will be processed.’
Not: ‘Please join the queue on your left.’
Immediate grace.
Immediate welcome.
Immediate acceptance.
The Christian life begins with a welcome. And one day it will upgrade with a Royal welcome.
Perhaps the greatest arrival announcement in history will be the words of Jesus: ‘Well done, good and faithful servant! . . . Come and share your master’s happiness!’ (Matthew 25:23 NIV).
Just the smiling face of Jesus.
The One who died for us.
The One who rose for us.
The One who has prepared a place for us.
John 14:2 records his promise: ‘There is more than enough room in my Father’s home’ (NIV). Now that’s an arrival worth looking forward to. And perhaps that is the great lesson of Lisbon Airport!
People may not always welcome us.
Systems may fail us.
Queues may frustrate us.
Luggage may disappear.
But for everyone who belongs to Christ, there is a welcome ahead that can never be delayed, cancelled, lost, misplaced or redirected.
One day, after all the waiting is over, we will finally be home.
Grace and peace,
J.John
