Episcopal Church Foundation Vestry Papers - for leading congregations

This past Sunday I went to hear my friend preach at a very small Episcopal church in Manhattan. They had me fill out a welcome card and during the announcements they mentioned my name and everyone clapped to welcome me. This was probably unnecessary because there were fewer than thirty people in the church and it was pretty clear who the new guy was, but it was sweet in any case.

The Peace was long, as it is in so many small churches, because everyone wandered about the Sanctuary shaking everyone else’s hand. I stayed in my seat and about two-thirds of the congregation stopped by to welcome me.

Growing up in a small church, I loved this. I wasn’t entirely comfortable, yet I felt genuine warmth. And, I certainly was noticed.

While I don’t necessarily think mentioning visitors by name in that way is the best way to welcome people, there is something about the way a small church can notice and welcome you, so openly and almost desperately, that I appreciate. They want you there. Many of them need you there in a real way. 

Often large churches provide a space for anonymity, and for many that’s a blessing. I don’t particularly like it. I don’t want to be put on the spot, but I want to be welcomed in. I want someone to come up and talk to me. I want to feel like I am needed. 

I don’t mean to romanticize a small, struggling church. It’s possible that church may not be able to sustain itself much longer. But I wonder if we can’t capture more of the blatant and open warmth and welcome that a small church can show, the welcome of a community that really likes to hang out together and has been doing so for decades, that is happy you are there and really, really wishes you would come back.