The Friendly Neighborhood Church

Walking up to the door, you pause. Just that momentary pause that allows you to take a breath and enter this place you've never been before.

The door is slightly heavy, but pulls out toward you. You step over the threshold, and you are in.

A smile. A greeting. "Hello." You smile back. You try to look like you know what you're doing. Like you belong here.

The heat of the day is held at bay inside this quieter place. The lighting says that you have stepped out of the frantic pace of the world.

You look around. The ones already there are obviously friends. They lean in toward each other and talk. They sit together. There is no empty seat near them, so you take a seat by yourself. Separated by a large post. Separated by their friendship that draws their circle together. They catch you watching them, smile at you again, and return to their chatter.

You had come here because you were told it was a friendly place. It had that reputation. Their smiles tell you that they believe that reputation with all of their heart.

You open the paper before you. Read what is offered here. Look for something, anything, within it. At least it's something to read so that you don't have to simply sit there, the only one with nobody to talk with.

An older couple comes in and finds a seat. A younger man breaks free from his group of friends and goes over and greets them. He sits with them for a few minutes and chats, before returning to his own seat.

A pretty blond comes in. Friends shuffle their seats to make room for her to join them. It is a friendly, neighborhood place. At least, if you're already part of the friendly neighborhood group.

You still sit there. Greeted when you entered. Welcomed with smiles. But alone and watching the friendliness envelope the others.

The bartender brings you your beer. Smiles at you, engages in a little small talk, and returns to the friendly neighborhood group.

How does the church become MORE than our culture? How do we break through our own natural ways of being . . . Our own natural tendency (and joy) of being with those we know and love? We smile and welcome. We know that we are a friendly church, because we are there with friends.

How do we open our circle and make room for the stranger?

It is said that you should always have an extra chair at your table, because you never know when Elijah will come. But even that would not be enough, if the stranger was not joyfully welcomed to sit there. Welcomed as an expected friend.

It's good to be friendly. But that doesn't move us into Gospel (good news) territory all by itself.

Elisha's pub didn't give me much in the way of conversation last night. But that friendly neighborhood bar certainly gave me some things to think about.

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Today I walked into Nashua. I have been blessed these past nights to stay with people I already knew - some better than others, but all people I had met before. Many thanks to Christian and Jane, Sarah and Adrian, Peter and Suzy! And tonight, to my new hostess, Joanne, who opened her front door to this complete stranger and welcomed me into her home, and warned me before I got here that I'd better pick up a swimsuit because she had a pool that was just waiting to welcome a foot weary traveler. I sit here refreshed and cool! Of such is unexpected blessing.