I’ve known many Black pastors to use the phrase, “not you, but somebody on your row!” when discussing the missteps of Christians, whether it be road rage, lying about having spare change, etc. Had the pastor at the church I visited a few weeks ago said this, I wouldn’t have been able to refute the claim as there was no one else on my row.
I have summoned up the courage to start visiting churches in the area to find a new church home. This is a struggle for me because, unfortunately, churches can be the most clique-ish of places and upon initial interaction with people I don’t know, I can be rather shy. People sometimes make ties and talk to only those like them, that they know, and rarely reach out to newcomers. And if you are a newcomer who is not particularly extroverted, this can be a difficult thing. This can also be intensified if you are of a different race than the majority of the congregation…one would think you would then stick out and receive the attention of members of the ‘hospitality committee’. Not always the case. Given that only 5% of my new community is African-American, there is a high probability that I will be in the minority at some churches. (I have to say here that I was raised in the Black church. It is the reason, I believe, that I am where I am today. Yet as we know Sunday at 10am is one of the most segregated times of the week. I don’t think it should be. My last church resembled the United Nations in its diversity. I absolutely loved it. )
I remember visiting a friend’s church for the first time, a Lutheran church. She was a member of the choir and they were singing some of my favorite classical pieces. We arrived early for her to get settled and I was sitting outside before service, enjoying a lovely Bay Area Spring day when this precocious nine-year old came up to me and introduced himself. He said, “this is my church!”, and struck up a conversation with me. How absolutely wonderful!
So a few Sundays ago, I decided to check out a church recommended by a colleague. I got to the church early. Parked in the last first-time visitor spot and went in. I was a bit overwhelmed as it was not a traditional church building and I had no idea which direction to go to find the sanctuary. I followed a woman down the hall and voila, sanctuary. I sat on the second row; there were coats on the first row and I wasn’t sure how much of it was taken. As people started coming in, I would nod and mouth hello to those who made eye contact. After the greeting, praise and worship began and I realized that although the place was now full, no one sat on my row. My heart sank. Had I given off some vibe? I had made sure that my coat and belongings were squarely in my seat and not taking up additional space. I am still not finished processing this and not sure what to make of it. Odd, yes. Welcoming…well…
A few days later, the community outreach person emailed me. I did not respond. She emailed a week later and I felt led to share my experience. Her response, “bummer. If you decide to come back, I will introduce you to some lovely people who will talk to you.” I chuckled. She missed my point. You only get one chance to make a first impression.
This present time 