The Subtly of Welcoming
The last week of my life has been a fulfilling, albeit tiring, experience. Spending eight hours a day in a classroom for doctoral courses has a way of taking a toll on an individual. It also, however, has a profound way of enriching the mind and soul. Frankly, I did not want to come to this round of classes. The drive to Philadelphia for this series of courses was the last trip I desired to make a week after Easter, and I did not want to be away from my family for a week. I was grumpy and tired; exhausted from the events of the previous season of ministry.
As I settled into the week, however, and began to invest in my opportunity to learn from my courses and surroundings, I found myself blessed, encouraged, and inspired by the observations I was making.
One such observation was the welcome received from the main campus of Eastern University. Overall the general experience of coming onto campus was positive. The St. Davids Campus of EU is a beautiful campus with small community environment that makes it a unique place for the educational experience provided there. As we have experienced life outside the classroom, I have been intrigued by the two unique ways in which students greeted us.
Many students were incredibly excited to greet us and help us find our way around campus. There was an excitement to their welcome and genuine curiosity to learn who we are and why we were on campus. These students made me feel like I was a part of the university I had never set foot on before. To be welcomed in such a way allowed me to feel a sense of belonging that could have missed due to my being a non-traditional student, an outsider to the main campus. There were, however, a few moments that left me feeling slightly different.
Because of the small-school nature of EU, many students know one another or are familiar with the faces they see around school daily. So, while it was an incredibly rare occurrence, there were one or two moments during my time at EU where students seemed suspicious of why our group was there. At no point during our stay was anyone rude and no one intentionally ignored us, but there were moments in which our presence was met with awkward glances an hints of uneasiness about our presence. These moments served as reminders that we weren't really a part of the campus. While we were certainly welcomed, we were still outsiders.
These moments were rare and not the norm. Our time on campus was an enjoyable experience, and we were indeed comfortable interacting with everyone we met, but these
There is a subtle difference between merely being greeted and being made to feel welcome, but it's an important distinction we need to understand. I am willing to bet you that 99.9% of churches in the United States would describe themselves with words like "warm," "friendly," and "inviting," but they fail to realize the fact that you can have some of the friendliest members in the world and still be unwelcoming. For churches to become genuinely welcoming we must go above and beyond welcoming committees and visitors swag. Like my classmates and me on campus, our guests will often pick up on the subtle glances and sheepish hellos often extended to anyone seen as an outsider, and when these experiences outweigh the feeling of genuine welcoming, we run the risk of pushing away visitors. Our intentions are pure, and we genuinely want people to feel welcomed, but our intent fails to meet our actions.
If we want to become congregations where visitors can transition to regulars and eventually join in the membership of our congregation, we must make ourselves aware of the subtle nuances between greeting guests and welcoming them into our community. So, next time you see someone new, make it a priority to be more welcoming; learn their story and make yourself available to them if they need anything. (Maybe even consider leaving the comfort of your favorite pew and sit with them during worship.) Regardless of what you do, remember that our guests are a valued part of God's kingdom and are deserving of a genuine welcome.