uring the 1970s my parents were pastoring the Honolulu Central church. An only son should visit his parents in their home, so our entire family—Ronny, Bobby, Rosalia, and I—took the long flight from San Francisco to Honolulu.

None of my parents’ parishioners knew us, of course, though they had heard Mother and Dad speak of us with exaggerated words colored by love. Nevertheless, these total strangers showered us with affection and gifts.

At the airport a knot of Adventists, with ukuleles and guitars, serenaded us as we walked from the jetway and into the waiting room. A nearby security guard had inquired about the VIP who must be arriving! But that was only the beginning. These strangers to us lavished upon us more than we could ever have thought of or asked for.

They loaded us down with fragrant and colorful leis, made with real flowers—pikake, plumeria, orchids, and ginger. Our two boys could barely walk because of the leis, including money leis, strung around their necks.

Even an innocent question from one of us about something they construed as a request, and within hours the object—pomelo or other exotic fruit or some trinket—arrived.

Auntie Hale (pronounced “holly”) behaved as though she were a blood relative. Uncle Reese took us surfboarding. Stanley and Forunata treated us to a snorkeling trip. The Naluai family opened their home for a luau thrown in our honor, where Gracie performed a lovely, graceful hula. Parishioners brought us pineapples, Asian pears, shell leis, flowers, papayas, mangoes, and so much more. And I mustn’t forget the pies, cakes, chocolates, and cookies made with macadamia nuts.

It was all lavished upon us strangers by strangers who hugged us and kissed us. Why such demonstrations of affection? Not because of any inherent worth on our part. Only because these gracious islanders loved my parents, and so they also loved us. We were accepted because we were the children and grandchildren of my beloved mother and father.

The members of the Honolulu Central church taught us a lesson in God’s gracious gift of salvation, because just as materially they accepted us because of my parents, so spiritually we have been “made . . . accepted in the beloved” (Eph. 1:6).

_________________________
Richard W. Coffen is vice president for editorial services at the Review and Herald Publishing Association in Hagerstown, Maryland, and the author of several books, including Where Is God When You Hurt? and When God’s Heart Breaks.