Getting Past the Greeters

In my feral state, I’m visiting different worship services in the area.  It’s a little awkward, because I’m not looking for a church, I’m evaluating how these people do it.  After a few visits, I decided to see how far I could get into a church before someone speaks to me.  I don’t avoid greeters, but I don’t catch their attention either.  Do they approach me?  Usually not.  You can count on being greeted if you catch the greeters’ attention; you first must greet the greeter.  I visited the outrageously huge Baptist church that deploys an army of volunteers in the parking lot to direct traffic and guide pedestrians.  There are as many people in the parking lot as there are in other churches’ worship services.  I walked past both them and the greeters just inside the door.  The usher spoke to me as he handed me a bulletin for the service.  (People are more likely to talk to you if they have to hand you something.)  The person I sat next to introduced herself and asked if I was a visitor.  The greetings that count are people who say hello when they don’t have to. 

I know a couple who spent a year touring the country by RV.  They went to church nearly every Sunday.  The congregations they enjoyed most were ones where they were greeted by people outside the greeting team.  When someone reaches out who doesn’t have to, people feel they’ve truly been seen. 

Many churches have processes in place to account for visitors.  Some ask you to sign their attendance pads, including your contact information.  Anything can happen at that point, from nothing at all to a call from the pastor to an email inviting you to the new member class.  Some offer free gifts at their welcome desk for first time visitors.  I did a highly unscientific survey of my Facebook nation about these gifts.  Nearly everyone said they would not take them.  Their reasons range from “it’s not why I’m there” to “staying out of their system” to “I don’t want something I won’t use.”  I haven’t taken any gifts because it seems unfair to take a gift when I know I won’t join the church.  Most visitors want a simple, no obligation visit to a warm, friendly congregation.

I want to give a shout out to Aldersgate UMC in Carrollton.  Rodney Whitfield and the congregation do a great job.  I was greeted by an usher.  Once I took my seat, I was greeted by the people next to me, the people behind me, and the people in front of me turned around and greeted me.  People greeted me after the service as I was leaving the sanctuary.  They have been far and away the most welcoming congregation I’ve visited.

This sounds like a game.  On one side, there’s a church attempting to contact you through systems that sound reasonable but pour time and effort into the ineffective, when what is most effective is spontaneous.  On the other side, visitors are trying to avoid being put on another list to receive emails and calls they don’t want, suspicious of being pressed into a commitment they don’t want to make, and trying to keep a low profile.

Churches should retire the phrase “radical hospitality”.  It’s been used so often for so many things that it has no meaning.  Some congregations rebranded what they were already doing, without changing a thing.  Others rolled out a new program and called it “radical hospitality” before actually carrying out the new program.  People thought, “If the pastor’s calling it radical hospitality, that must be what we’re doing.”  I know the term was used in the book “Five Practices of Fruitful Congregations” by Robert Schnase.  I haven’t read the book and may be reinventing the wheel, but here’s my take.

I moved a lot growing up.  I’ve often been the new person.  I’ve experienced true hospitality, but also false sincerity, subtle hostility, and being consciously ignored.  True hospitality comes from the conviction there is room for everyone, space for one more friend, one more place at the table.  You are vulnerable; you don’t know what the encounter will bring.  It’s an act of faith.  The others come from being uncomfortable with that vulnerability, protecting what “my church” should be, seeing a change to the surroundings as a threat.  It is also true that being a guest requires vulnerability.  Hospitality includes gratefully accepting a sincere welcome, entering the space you’ve been invited into.  True hospitality happens between two generous souls.

So maybe my game isn’t an effective way to judge hospitality.  Maybe I’ll make eye contact with a greeter this week.