Pastoral Letter: The Theology of Welcome and the Feet of Mercy
Dear Simsbury UMC Family,
Grace and peace to you in Christ.
This past Sunday was my first time worshiping with you. Even now, I find myself carrying the warmth of that morning—the welcome, the smiles, the presence of God in the room. It wasn’t just the start of a new appointment. It was the beginning of a shared journey.
Thank you for showing up. For praying. For staying after to say hello.
For stopping by the office. For the quilt. The cards. The flowers on the altar and on my desk.
For every note taped to the wall.
Each of these gestures felt like more than kindness. They felt like love made visible.
And though my family is still in Korea, you somehow made your welcome reach across oceans. They felt it too. That means more than I can say.
Hospitality as Holy Ground
Your hospitality reminded me of Abraham under the oaks of Mamre.
He saw three travelers passing by and offered them water, bread, rest. He didn’t know they were messengers from God. He just welcomed them.
Hebrews tells us,
“Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing so some have entertained angels without knowing it.” (Hebrews 13:2)
Your welcome carried that kind of spirit. It made room for something holy.
The Quiet Work of Grace
That afternoon, I sat in the parsonage and read through your cards. Slowly. One by one.
I prayed a quiet prayer:
“Thank you, Lord, that I do not walk alone.”
In the days since, I’ve been walking the neighborhood—sometimes running, sometimes just driving with the windows down. I find myself looking around and wondering:
What will God do here?
What might grow from this beginning?
That wondering has become prayer. And prayer has turned into hope.
John Wesley called this prevenient grace—the grace that goes ahead of us, preparing hearts and paths we can’t yet see. I believe that grace met me here. Through you.
Some welcomes are brief. Others stay with you.
This one will stay with me.
A Real Journey of Faith
What lies ahead?
There will be joy—yes. Laughter, celebration, things we’ll look back on with gratitude.
But there will also be sorrow. Misunderstandings. Disappointments.
There will be days when we don’t get it right. When we get tired.
There may even be days when we wonder why we do this at all.
That’s life. That’s church. And that’s the life of faith.
Paul writes, “Whether we live or die, we belong to the Lord.” (Romans 14:8)
That means our best days—and our hardest ones—are held in grace. We belong. Still.
And the good news is: we do not walk this road alone.
We pray. We stumble. We try again.
We forgive and are forgiven.
We listen. We stay.
And in the midst of it all, Christ is here.
“For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.” (Matthew 18:20)
This is why I can already say—with more than affection, with commitment:
Dear Simsbury UMC Family.
When Mercy Walks
This Sunday, we continue our series with the theme:
“Mercy Has Feet.”
We’ll hear again the parable of the Good Samaritan.
We’ll ask: What does mercy do when it doesn’t stay still?
Where does it go?
What does it cost?
Last week, we heard the words, “Carry each other’s burdens.” (Galatians 6:2)
Mercy doesn’t wait for the perfect moment. It moves. It acts.
It bends down. It crosses the road. It takes time. It gives something up.
James says, “Faith without works is dead.” (James 2:17)
But he’s not scolding us. He’s inviting us—to let our faith walk, to let our compassion breathe, to put mercy into motion.
So bring your questions. Bring your weariness. Bring your hope.
Let’s meet again this Sunday—right where mercy walks.
With gratitude and hope,
Pastor DH Choi
Simsbury United Methodist Church