The Stranger: Why Your Church Isn't As Welcoming As You Think It Is

When was the last time you attended Sunday service at someone else's church? For those of us who regularly attend a house of worship, the answer to this question may be, "not in a long time." And if it's been a while since you were a guest at another church, I suggest that you try it. As churches struggle with declines in new membership and declining attendance by current members, church leaders are really looking under the hood at their churches for reasons why. One area that is coming under increasing scrutiny is the issue of welcome - how do we make potential members of our churches feel welcomed and wanted. 

Giving "good welcome" is more than greeting someone at the church door, although you'd be surprised how often even that one simple thing is overlooked. Good welcome includes everything from bulletins printed with explanations and order of service and instructions for receipt of Communion, to words of welcome from the minister during announcements, to the helpful usher alerting you to the location of restrooms and sitting you and your vocal 6-months old infant on the aisle nearest those restrooms. Good welcome is a chorus of cheerful "good mornings" said to visitors during the sign of peace and an invitation to coffee hour as you pass them at the conclusion of service. 

But, a lot of us have forgotten what it's like to be the stranger and so we assume that our church home, that familiar place in which we feel welcomed every Sunday, is a place of good welcome when it is not. I recently visited a church on a Sunday morning and within the first few minutes of my arrival, I knew it was going to be an interesting experience. The main door to the sanctuary was closed so it was impossible to assess if there was a church service in progress. A simple "Service in progress" sign near the entrance would have helped, but there was no sign posted and so I walked around to what looked like a side entrance, just in case. That entrance also had no signage posted, but the door was open and so in I went. There were parishioners around, but no one said hello, they just looked at me. When I offered a "good morning", I was given one head nod, and one mumbled, "hi" and that was it. It didn't get better.

That morning I witnessed a lot - from choir members fighting with guest choristers over choir robes and actually saying the words, "well, you don't belong here", to coffee hour volunteers telling a parishioner "no" when asked if they could have a cup of tea before set-up was complete. I spent the sign of peace looking like the failed debutante whose dance card was blank as those around me made their way out of the pews and into the aisles for a sign of peace that lasted some 10 minutes and left me stranded. There were so many missed opportunities to make this stranger feel welcomed. At the coffee hour, there was no attempt to ask me the name/rank/serial number that you'd think would be asked of a stranger showing up at your church. As I was leaving, someone asked if I had plans to come back for another Sunday, and you can guess the answer that flashed across my brain!

You'd think that I would have left and said, "forget them!" but it really just made me sad, and then mad, and then curious. Did the people of that church think that they were welcoming? Did I have an unfair expectation as a guest at a church? Does my own church make the stranger feel welcomed?

This last question caused me the most introspection. My husband and I have brought many guests to our church over the years and they've enjoyed their experiences, but we were with them introducing them to other parishioners, retrieving extra copies of the Book of Common Prayer and the hymnal and walking them through the order of service, telling them where the restrooms are, and filling them in on how we do Communion and the joys of Intinction. But, I also remember how a friend of mine, along with her husband, had come to our church on their own for a Christmas Eve service and how their experience was as uninspiring as mine was at that other church I had visited a few weeks ago. My dear friends were greeted as they entered the sanctuary, but that was it. They were overlooked during the sign of peace and ignored at the service's conclusion as they made their way out of the church. No one asked them who they were, where they were from, what church (if any) they attended, or what brought them to our church. I was embarrassed but I chalked up their experience to a very crowded church that was probably filled with other strangers also seeking the Christmas Eve experience. 

I think about that terrible Christmas Eve every Sunday when my husband and I are hurrying (late) into the churchyard and rushing into the sanctuary and I stop and remember to take a look around and notice those strangers sitting around us. I remember to seek them out at the sign of peace to introduce myself and wish them a good morning. My husband never fails to step in and proffer a hymnal to a confused stranger who may not know the rituals of our church. We remember to thank that stranger with whom we've shaken hands and sung hymns for coming to our church, invite them to come again, and direct them to the coffee and the forum. And, we remember each Sunday that we were once strangers here ourselves.