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View from the Pew: Making Faith Possible

By Don Coley

Dear Pastor:

  Most laity have never attended church growth seminars. We do not read books on the subject, and few of us have ever heard about "unchurched Harry and Mary." We are not overly familiar with what "seeker sensitive" means; and, if we are, we may harbor some doubts about its methods. But for churches desiring to grow and impact their communities with the good news, we are the key that can lock the church's back door and swing the entry doors wide open if we have the vision, understand its importance, and are seriously obedient to Christ's commands. But we need your help.

Perhaps there is no more pronounced difference between pastors and laity than the reception each of us receives on our first Sunday in a new church. For pastors, the event is much anticipated and well publicized. We know your background. We understand the role you will play in the future of the church. You have already formed preliminary relationships with key members of the church who serve on the board or pulpit committee. These contacts were positive, or they would not have invited you to candidate.

Your first Sunday is filled with pressures we will never experience—your sermon will be followed by judgment and a vote. Will we like what we see and hear? Is this the place to serve? Will we ask you to be our pastor? Your style and your sermon are the probable topics of discussion as we leave the parking lot and later as we eat dinner.

Contrast your experience with ours. We are visitors, new to the area, looking for a place to worship. Like you, we drive to the church wondering if this will be the place God has for us. But our first Sunday is filled with pressures that you may never experience. Will anyone reach out? Will anyone care? No one is expecting us; no one knows who we are. We enter and leave—anonymously. In the middle of hundreds, perhaps thousands of people, we are alone. People greet us with a handshake as they move past us to spend time in comfort zones with familiar faces. Friendship surrounds us, but does not touch us. We are disconnected; hurt and disappointment are our companions as we drive home.

Words cannot adequately express how it feels to be turned away by followers of the One who said, "Come." Yet too often laity turn visitors away. We have forgotten what it was like when we were on the outside; the sting has been replaced by satisfaction. We have grown too comfortable, and we need to be called to repentance. You must remind us of our responsibility before God to love His people; remind us what is at stake. Move us beyond our own anxiety so we touch the truly anxious. Help us embrace a vision for growth that is born in God's heart, proclaimed from His pulpits, and flourishing in His pews.

A church that does not enthusiastically welcome and embrace the visitor is a church that eventually withers and dies. It is a church that fails to comprehend the reality and totality of grace. None of us is deserving of the friendships and favors that have been given us. They come by His grace. All of us, as recipients of grace, need to remember that we are intended to become its instruments. Will we respond to His grace by including those who visit our church or will we isolate ourselves from them? Will we welcome them or walk away? Remind us that while we are free to choose our response, only one is consistent with being a follower of Jesus.

Few of us, pastors and laity alike, take time to think about the gift of being included. How precious are those times when we can say to others: "Thank you for including us." Five words. They follow times of sharing; they reflect the gift of time. When spoken often, they are enough to make a difference. When they are spoken in response to the thoughtful acts of those who value people—even strangers—they can close the church's back door. Spend time in creating an environment of inclusion among your people—it will be an investment that pays dividends. Challenge us to act like the Samaritan of Luke 10, not the priest or Levite, when we encounter those who need kindness and friendship.

Growth in the church obviously means much more than waiting for others to come, and welcoming them when they do. To grow, we are commanded to go. Our churches are not just sanctuaries from the battles faced in the everyday world. They are also staging areas for rescue parties who will return to the battlefields in search of the wounded and those in need. Too many of us in the pews view this work—evangelism—as something we are not equipped to do. We want to leave it to the pastors, the deacons, or anyone other than ourselves. But we cannot.

Near the exit of a church parking lot was a sign that read: Share your faith with a friend. That means evangelism, something laity must do. But since we are not always certain how receptive our friends will be, we are sometimes reluctant to share. Somewhere, another sign read: Make faith possible for a friend. This also means evangelism, but it means much more than our doing something. It means we are called to be something. We are meant to be His followers. We are not just commanded to call others to repentance; we are commanded to live out our own lives of repentance. We are called to do more than leave our sinful ways; we are called to embrace a righteous lifestyle. We are called to do more than share the good news with others; we are called to actually care for them.

When our friends—and strangers we have never met—are struggling, and feel they have no hope and no place to turn, we must make faith possible for them by the example of our lives. We must model the character of godliness that will attract them into the Kingdom. When we make faith possible for friends and strangers, we throw open the front door and lock shut the back door of the church. Call us to this task.

God bless you, your family, and the work He has called you to do.

Don Coley attends First Assembly of God, San Diego, California.