Hey, That's My Seat!

February 2, 2013

Saturday, February 2, 2013

 

            When I saw the cartoon on Facebook, I had to laugh. I laughed because it was funny, but it was also a nervous laugh because I’ve seen it with my own eyes.   Then, it was not so funny. It was a cartoon about a man named Joseph. He and I attended church together years ago.

            I once lived on the New Jersey Shore and attended a small church a few blocks from my apartment. It was a lovely little church with the friendliest members imaginable. Our pastor was a kindly man with a heart of gold. It was absolutely a delightful place to call my church home.

            Now, about the cartoon. It showed a couple sitting in the church pew awaiting the start of worship. Another couple was angrily staring at them from the isle. The caption noted that the entire congregation waited anxiously to see what would happen since the visitors sat down in the regular members’ pew.

            I immediately thought of the day that happened to Joseph in my little New Jersey church. Joseph was a very prominent member of that church. He had done a lot over the years to build that congregation financially and served as one of its most diligent leaders. Some would say that Joseph believed he owned that church, and they would probably not be far off. There was no doubt that he used his checkbook to hold influence over how he thought things should be done. To a very large extent, it worked, too!

            On the Sunday in question, I was quietly standing in the back of the sanctuary before worship was to begin. Along with many in the church, we had all noticed the visitors that had come in a few minutes earlier. They seemed really nice, were genuinely excited about trying out the little church, and had already accepted our invitation to the potluck lunch that would follow. Then they did the unthinkable—they sat in Joseph’s pew.

            Sure enough, right on time, Joseph and his wife arrived promptly 3 minutes before worship was to begin. Dressed in his custo mary three-piece suit and looking every bit the high-powered and prominent business man he was, Joseph cleared his throat and politely suggested (ok, ordered) that the visitors move to a new place in the church as they had chosen to take his seat.

            There was a noticeable gasp in the congregation when Joseph said this. Even my pastor was paralyzed. He shook his head in disgusted disbelief and whispered in my ear, “That’s the third time I’ve seen Joseph do that and no matter what I say to him, he just doesn’t get it.”

            The visitors were humiliated. They moved to a back pew, and quietly slipped out of worship near the end of the service. We never saw them again.

            The incident has always stood as a stark lesson for me. As Christians, we are all very fond of patting ourselves on the back for friendliness. The fact of the matter is, most of us really are! Even Joseph was a very friendly man. But, friendly is not necessarily welcoming!

            One of the most important jobs of a church is to always provide a genuine sense of safe welcome and hospitality to everyone who walks through our doors. We may laugh at a cartoon that pokes fun at a man like Joseph, but the fact remains, there may be a Joseph in your church—perhaps you and I are that person!

            When we welcome people into the presence of God, it takes more than a friendly handshake and a polite direction of where to go. It takes genuine love.

 

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