I give thanks for the Saints who have gone before us and those saints who live among us. The church does not make saints or saintly, but in our gathering and in our shared life and work together, we recognize the saints. We light candles to remember those saints who have raised us up and helped us along the way.
Hang with me here: A church is built to house worship, to be a gathering space for followers (living saints) of Jesus. Created with an altar to remind us of the table around which we gather, where we partake of the bread and fruit of the vine. We re-member during this meal; we come together as the one body of Christ as we eat of the body and drink of the blood of Jesus Christ our Lord. The candles remind us of the two natures of Christ, human and divine. A pulpit denotes space for the reading and hearing of God’s holy word, read from scriptures and as inspired by God. The congregation participates in the ministry of all Christians alongside the pastor and worship leaders.
As people on the inside of these churches, as saints who love the church, we know this stuff, and we live this experience. The sanctuary space is holy, full of our church family, and feels like
a holy invitation to “come.”
I wonder. . . if you have not been inside a church as a “member” or someone part of a church community, how does a sanctuary feel? Comforting? Like a party to which I’ve not been invited?
If you have been rejected or harmed by folks who are part of a church family, do you feel welcomed back inside? Or is it frightening?
If you have been brave enough to enter a holy space after many years of being away, what does it feel like if you are ignored or only superficially welcomed (a handshake with no other interaction, speaking only to friends rather to you who are a visitor)?
Jesus made time for little children, gathering them around and blessing them. Scripture also tells us whenever you feed, clothe, and welcome the least of these, we have done this to Jesus. We see Jesus having meals with disciples and tax collectors in the homes of strangers and friends alike. We might think these are “special” or “above and beyond actions” we need to emulate outside the walls of our church. We do as outreach and mission – yes, they are!
And – what if we focus on what it means to offer true welcome in our worship spaces? What if we take a look at ourselves from the viewpoint of an outsider, from our websites to the highway signs, to the parking lot, to directional signs, to greeters, ushers, and congregants in the pews?!? All these pieces and people need to show up in the welcome department! Our Lighthouse Churches have made a commitment to be cognizant of their welcome and highly attuned to how much hurt is out there in the UMC and within the hearts of many who recently or not so recently worshipped among us. We have lots of folks who are curious about coming in, coming in again, or coming in for the first time.
I found myself in a sanctuary recently for a meeting. The sun was shining brightly when I went inside the sanctuary. As I looked at the agenda for the meeting, I was squinting. I looked at the lightbulbs – a few were burned out. But the windows were clear, so the room should have been bright. I should have been able to look out and see the trees and sky, as well as easily read the words on the page and the people in the room. I mentioned this to the person closest to me, and he said, “Oh, it’s a bit dark in here because of the shutters. They are closed.” Oh, that’s right – I noticed these big green shutters when I pulled up. I asked, “Well, do you usually open them at least on Sundays?” to which he replied, “Actually, we can’t. They are rusted closed. I guess we stopped opening them, so they rusted shut.”
Rusted shut. No one sees in or out.
Rusted shut from dis-use.
Rusted shut, keeping out the light.
Rusted shut.
So. Not. Welcoming.
Rusted shut shutters are horrible physically; as a metaphor, they speak loudly to who we do not want to be.
Our churches are dedicated to welcoming all of God’s people to worship, to know God better, and to love God and neighbor. Take some time to examine your ability to welcome, individually and as a congregation. Teach one another to welcome well and model it whenever you gather, even if no visitors are present! Be ready; we have folks looking for a new place to call home and saints to walk with them.
May our welcoming signs, all of them, truly show welcome. May our visitors experience love and light from the moment they arrive. May the Light and the light shine into the congregation, and may we reflect God’s love out so that all people may experience the transforming love of God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit in all our lives.
