Archives For November 30, 1999

pull quote_adamsCOMMENTARY | Nate Adams

Earlier this summer, I wrote about my desire to worship in every Illinois Baptist church. Even though it would take years and years of attending a new church every week, I can’t think of a better way to invest my Sundays than to meet, and listen to, and worship with, as many Illinois Baptists as possible.

Since writing about that desire, I’ve already been invited to worship in eight new churches for the first time on a Sunday morning. Some have been invitations to come and speak, and some have been invitations to simply join the church for worship, which I enjoy just as much. But I am so grateful for each of these churches that responded to my simple question, “May I come to your church?” with the same gracious answer: “Sure, we’d love to have you.”

It’s made me wonder how many people are asking that same question every week about your church or mine. They probably don’t ask it directly of us. In fact, they probably don’t even ask it out loud. But they drive past, or read about, or perhaps hear someone talking about our church. And they wonder what it would be like to go inside.

Of course, their question is really multiple questions. What exactly happens in there on Sunday mornings? How would I know where to go and when to do what? Would I know anyone, and do they know anything about me? How would I be treated? Would I like it? Would I want to go back? Do I know anyone who would go with me? What about my kids?

I think we would all like to answer the simple question, “May I come to your church?” positively and warmly. Of course we want new people to come to our church! But if we really expect it to happen, we have to realize that these “questions behind the question” reveal potential barriers that may be keeping people from taking the first step.

For example, my sons tell me that most people their age will not seriously consider attending a church that does not have a decent web site. It’s not necessarily that they are looking for a technologically sophisticated church. It’s just that their generation gathers information that way. Whether they’re trying to answer a trivia question or shop for the best price or consider attending a church, they usually go to the web first, to check things out.

An effective church web site can be a wonderful tool for helping people anonymously answer their questions about your church in advance. But some people are going to look to the newspaper, some to the phone book, and some are going to want to call the church on Saturday night. In other words, an effective, inviting church is going to do everything it can to answer the questions behind, “May I come to your church?” before they are ever asked out loud.

Of course, just as important as answering these questions in advance is answering them on site at the church, especially on Sunday. A first time guest to your church needs all kinds of help that your regular attenders don’t need.  That would seem obvious, but I am sometimes surprised at how difficult it is to find a church’s service time, or address, or directions. And even if the church is easy to find, it can be unclear where to park, or what door to enter, or where to go once you’re inside.

Fortunately, almost all of the churches I attend, even for the first time, do a great job of communicating in advance, and welcoming warmly when I arrive. And if I’ve not yet been to your church on a Sunday morning, I would still love to come and join you in worship. But far more important than my asking this question are the many people in your community who may be asking it silently every week: “May I come to your church?”

Nate Adams is executive director of the Illinois Baptist State Association.

SPE_034HEARTLAND | Nate Adams

Recently our neighbors invited us to a Super Bowl Party at their home. This isn’t the first year they have invited us, but it is the first time we said yes. I have to admit, though, that there were several reasons I wanted to say no.

First, of course it was on a Sunday. The afternoon game time meant I could easily get home from the church where I was speaking. But Sunday afternoon is usually a time when I can relax a little, have some personal time, and maybe even take a nap. I kind of wanted the option of falling asleep in front of the game, rather than socializing through it.

Second, the people that were inviting us aren’t very much like us, and we both knew that. Before offering the invitation, our neighbor asked, “Do you mind being around people who are drinking?” The invitation itself then came with assurances that there would be soft drinks available as well. I guess we’re known as “the Baptists on the block,” and most of our neighbors know I’m in full-time ministry.

Third, I wasn’t sure exactly what kind of position we might find ourselves in at this party. Who else would be there? Would we even find we had much in common to talk about? Would others wonder why we were there, especially after not coming in previous years, and would they be watching us for ways we might not fit in?

Finally, I wondered what kinds of other commitments might be asked of us as a result of this party. Did they need new workers for the neighborhood workday or workday? Would we now be asked to buy more wrapping paper or Girl Scout cookies from their kids?

I know, all those suspicions and phobias don’t sound very trusting, or even mature, do they? And yet as I reflected on all the reasons I wanted to tell our neighbors no once again, I realized that many of those same thoughts probably run through the mind of anyone who is invited to church by his or her neighbor.

When we invite our neighbors to church, we may feel like we are inviting them to a wonderful place where we have the richest worship experiences and deepest friendships of our lives. But in their minds we may be asking them to take a big slice of their most personal time and spend it with people they suspect are not very much like them, and who may press them for changes they’re not ready to make.

So instead of saying no to the Super Bowl party this year, we said yes. It wasn’t just because we empathized with how hard it is to invite someone to something. It was because our neighbor taught us something about the art of a sincere invitation.

First, she has gradually but consistently built a closer and more trusting relationship with us. I now believe she wouldn’t intentionally put us in an awkward or compromising position. She obviously knows we’re different than many of those who will be at the party, but she respects our values and looks for ways to accommodate them. She seems interested in us personally, and not with whether we will conform to others. And she has persistently and warmly invited us, even when we’ve always said no. Her invitation came from her heart.

There was one more thing. In saying yes this time, we also knew there would be at least three couples present for whom we’ve been praying, and looking for opportunities to share Christ. In fact one of those couples is our host. And in an ironic way, God has used the very neighbors for whom we’ve been praying to show us the art, and the heart, of a good invitation.