Guess Who’s Coming to Worship

A.C. Powers

Since the pandemic, I have seen multiple pastors lamenting about the lack of church attendance. They bemoan those who stay home instead of gathering in person. I have long said that unless you’re offering something that they can’t get at home, there’s little incentive for people to come. The reason repeatedly given for why people should come is “fellowship." But honestly, many churches don’t do fellowship well. Now to be clear, that’s been the case for a long time. I’ve said often that I should be a church “secret shopper."

Because when I’ve visited churches and not been introduced as a pastor, the reception has frequently been such that I would not be motivated to darken the doorstep of an Adventist church again had I not already been a member.

Take an experience I had at a random church in Northern New Jersey. It stands out, not only because it was so recent, but because I don’t recall ever before encountering such a large constellation of unwelcoming events in a single visit to a congregation:

I entered the church and an usher took me to my seat. I sat on the end of a pew so there was an aisle to my right, but fellow pew-mates to my left. The service was nice enough. At one point the congregation was asked to “turn to your neighbor and say, ‘last connection’." My left hand neighbor was turned to the person on her left and the people to my right weren’t paying any mind to me across the aisle. No biggie. Then we were encouraged to talk to our other neighbor. Surely this time one of my neighbors would turn to me. Nope. But several conversations could be heard ensuing among friends.

The rest of the service continued. It was Global Youth Day, and it was wonderful to see the youth participating. There was a baptism—which is always joyous! A young man gave his life to Christ. The sermon was sound. It was announced that there would be lunch after service. At dismissal, the pastor stood at the door. He fist bumped people since he had been under the weather. “That was a good word. I hope you feel better soon," I encouraged. His reply was just, “Yeah." Well, he said he was sick. I wasn’t going to take it personally.

In the fellowship hall, we lined up for food. A young woman cut in front of me. Perhaps she was with the gentleman and young boy ahead of me. But the three of them weren’t interacting, so it seemed odd. “Are you with them?," I asked. “No,” she answered. I was befuddled, I had clearly been standing there. But at the exact moment that I opened my mouth to say something, a server at the other end shouted “this side is open too and it’s the same food." Saved by the bell (of the Holy Spirit)! There was no need to get into an exchange: I’ll be first at the other side of the line.

The servers smiled and silently raised their ladles to offer food. Vegetables? “Yes, please." Macaroni? “Yes, please." A server pointed to the veggie meat, “No, thank you." The server at the middle of the table stood behind a covered tray. “What’s that?” I inquired. “Lo mein, but you can’t have that if you got macaroni.” Okay…

I took my plate and sat at one end of a long table by myself. Since I’d gone to the other end of the serving line, I was one of the first to get my food (even before the woman who cut ahead of me). Another woman sat down several seats away. The table filled up on either side and even across from me. Since it was clear no one was going to acknowledge my existence, I attempted to strike up a conversation. I noticed a woman had a flip phone. “Oh that looks cool. Can you answer the call even when it’s closed?” She replied matter of factly, “Yes," and turned away. Two of the women sitting directly across from me chatted at length about how it’s been so long since the church had a social. As it happened, they were on the social committee! Surely, they would greet a visitor! Nope.

During lunch an announcement was made for people to give an offering for food. This was something I’d never seen before! It immediately made me cringe. A man came over to the table with a basket saying to everyone, “Make sure you don’t leave before you give something!” I stared blankly in shock. What’s worse: that was the first semblance of a remark anyone had actually initiated towards me since I walked into the building that morning! But there were two more. A server brought juice around and asked if I wanted some. The last interaction, and the only meaningful one, occurred as I was leaving.

Finally having had enough, I finished my food, got up and threw my paper plate and cup in the trash. As I returned to the table to retrieve my coat and bag, a gentleman extended his hand. “I don’t believe I greeted you yet.” I shook his hand and smiled weakly, “Thank you. You’re the only one who actually has!” He was taken aback. I continued, “I’m visiting today and literally not one person has actually greeted me all day. I sat here at lunch with everyone at this table and not one person talked to me.” I had overheard him talking to the social committee ladies earlier and I knew he was an usher. Perhaps being an usher was why he was the only one who had the common decency to greet a visitor. He asked where I was from. I told him. Finally he said, “I’m disappointed no one talked to you.” “So am I," I answered, as I turned and walked out the door.

Let’s be honest. Many of our churches don’t want new people. When folks talk about Sabbath fellowship, it’s just cliques coming to chat amongst themselves. Here’s a PSA and reminder to all of us; pastors, leaders, and other congregants who like to guilt trip people into attending services in-person: before we post another meme asking why people don’t come to church when they go to other places, let’s do some real self-reflection. How do our churches actually treat people who come? The inability to retain new members has been a perennial problem. But now it’s more pronounced since many of the old ones don’t want to come back either post-covid. The lack of bodies is more apparent now; so it feels more pronounced.

As I drove off, I prayed for the young man who got baptized. Unless he already has a strong network in that church, he’ll soon be walking out the church doors just like I did.

A.C. Powers is a pseudonym of an ordained minister with extensive ministry experience.