First Impressions and being a church visitor....
I’m one of those people who really take delight in worship.
I loved the time that I served as Pastor in Ashton, Idaho.
I loved planning worship, sermon preparation and preaching and leading worship.
Sitting back as a visitor in an unfamiliar place can be much less pleasant,
because my standards are what I’ve practiced in my own ministry.
On occasion visiting a new church falls in the category of painful.
It’s my definition of suffering. With so many versions of mainline church claims
of being welcoming and warm, there still exists a tremendous lack of genuine
welcome and sometimes it feels downright freezing cold regardless of the
current weather report and central air system.
We’re in Concord,
North Carolina this week.
It’s been weeks since we’ve had a Sunday where we weren’t
traveling or been otherwise committed to something which would keep us away
from Sunday worship. I miss regular communion. I miss community of the body
around the Table.
Friday night I started researching and located the closest
Episcopal Church, checked out the times and did a little inner heel kick that
the late service didn’t begin until after 11am.
Sunday morning we
headed out ready to experience the usual warm welcome we have known from the
Episcopal churches in the High
Desert. I’ve missed that
warm “welcome home” that greeted us the first time we entered St. Hilary’s and
St. Timothy’s and hoped that would be our experience.
Sadly we were a bit disappointed.
What we experienced started out just a bit awkward. We
allowed ourselves an extra cushion of time to find the campus, and check out
their layout. We weren’t going to be late arrivers drawing attention to
ourselves by disturbing the community mid-service.
The signs approaching from the parking lot pointed out the
direction to the Office, the Church, and the Church House. We broached the
doors. In the loft overhead the choir was assembled for warm up. An older
couple sat at the back pew; that felt familiar.
The gentleman noticed our entrance, and rose to greet us. He
was kind and helpful in handing us service bulletins. He pointed out the
visitors card in the pew, and then urged us out the side door to show us into a
central hall for refreshments and invited us to freely join conversation at a
couch about 12 feet away with several others already in conversation.
All this is okay so far. He gave the impression that he wasn’t
completely comfortable conversing and didn’t transition us by introducing us to
anyone else so we hung back eyeing things from afar. He did however show
genuine awareness of us being present and extended his best effort at
hospitality.
By the way, the priest, already vested “to the chasuble” passed
us when we were first moving from the sanctuary to the hall, but made no notice
of our presence.
So there we stood, for about a minute or two when another
gentleman approached. He held a long fluorescent tube in one hand and was
clearly on a mission. That mission was deferred as he paused, recognized our presence
as strangers deserving a welcome. Good job Mr. Vestryman. Thanks for taking
time to acknowledge us.
Then, as we stood with Mr. Vestryman a woman with her big
name badge on came up to each of us and expressed interest
“Are you a member?” she asked. I was standing by a table
that contained something. I later realized where the member badges.
“No, we’re visiting the area, members of an Episcopal Church
in California.
We’re here for a short stay while in training.”
“Oh....” small conversation continued. Thanks Ma’am for the
acknowledgement. That helped remove some
of the discomfort. She also pointed out the refreshment table. Thanks for also
offering refreshments.
And then, the priest came up to our threesome cluster, she
approached Mr. Vestryman and Mrs. Member who were to my right. I looked
straight at her, and my husband stood about five feet away from me, watching.
She stood cleaning her glasses using her chasuble, and began carrying on
weather talk with Mr Vestryman and Mrs. Member. I continued standing there,
less than a foot away from the threesome looking straight at The Rev. Celebrant
and still she did not seem to register that I was a visitor. It was as if I was
invisible. Rather like Lazarus at the gate.
So I walked away from the group, and passed the refreshment
table and proceeded to tour the very nicely furnished hall with its’ tastefully
organized Library on the back wall behind the giant screen suspended from the
ceiling which kept flashing announcements of upcoming events. Was that a
fireplace under the screen?
Tim had retreated into the background by a different path.
He disappeared on his own inspection, and then slipped back into the sanctuary.
A few minutes later I found my way to where he was and took
my seat next to him in the back pew.
Then a very nice younger woman got up from her seat in the
pew on the other side of the church and came up to me.
She leaned in close to my left ear and said ….“The Tag of
your top is sticking up.”… “She (her now motioning to the older woman seated in
another pew directly across the aisle) said it was the first thing she noticed
when she saw you.”
“Oh… well…thanks for letting me know. ” I replied as I
fumbled to tuck it back in concealed position.
REALLY???
Is that how you welcome a visitor?
You embarrass them straight off the bat?
Is it that important to the decorum of worshiping God and
being the body of Christ that you must point out the insignificant but
recalcitrant label to the complete stranger that just crossed the thresholds of
Our Lord’s House of Worship?
Well thanks for that. It might not have felt like such an
offense if you had offered a greeting before pointing out my fashion faux pas.
Or, if at the passing of peace, you would have used just as much energy to extend
the peace of Christ to mend my pricked feelings.
The crowning experience was when as we left the communion
rail, being the last two people on the pulpit side of the rail, we were
immediately followed by the priest hustling behind us so fast to take communion
to a member at the rear that she actually stepped on the back of Tim’s foot.
I guess those last ten minutes of the third service must
really feel like an eternity to you Reverend. You still have all those
parishioner home visits to conduct and just want to get to the end. But next
week, try not to run down the last two guests leaving our Lord’s Table as you
hustle to complete your duties of serving your aged, lame and infirm members. A
smile from time to time might be a warm touch. Just a thought…after you deliver
the chastising word of God, contrast it later with the love of Christ
overflowing.
I can put up with the lack of flexibility in suggesting that
members may stand or sit as the BCP presents it. I can put up with not knowing
the service music setting as a visitor. It’s nice to hear the priest say that
all are welcome to receive communion from the Lord’s Table “no matter who you
are or where you are” in your life. But your actions need to match your words.
Now, if that big hall that you ushered us into is a Welcome Center, then I would humbly suggest you
might just want to change your signage outside and begin to model true
welcoming. Give better directions to the best door to enter.
Here’s a question for you:
When you spot a person with a garment label peeking up at their neckline what do you do?
Do you:
- Point it out immediately.
- Introduce yourself, begin casual conversation and then casually slip in a “oh, by the way, I love your outfit. Did you know our tag is breaking out?
- Ignore it.
- Introduce yourself, begin casual conversation and then casually slip in a “oh, by the way, I love your outfit. I hope you will forgive me pointing out that your tag is sticking out. I don’t know about you but that is my personal pet-peeve.”
If a Church wants to say to the world that it is a church
that welcomes anyone “whoever they are and wherever they are in their walk with
God”, pointing out fashion faux pas just simply contradicts the message you are
trying to communicate.
Shepherd of the flock : It also doesn’t matter that you can
preach an exquisite message on the texts which convicts the members of their
need to remove the blinders from their eyes and do it without a manuscript if you are going to literally walk upon the
feet of the “invisible man” you just served the Bread of Life to in the Name of
Jesus.
Here’s the take away…
You can never make a First Impression twice.
If I ever relocate to this area, I am highly unlikely to
come right back to your beautiful campus. I could be sampling other
congregations for a very long time based on the first impression of the congregation,
or making this city my next most desired place to relocate.
