The church foyer was alive with activity the Sunday we entered through the glass paneled doors into the unknown and unfamiliar. We were strangers from far off lands come to worship with the local saints. There was nothing about us that would cause them to screamed, “Look Out! There’s Aliens!” Unless we opened our mouths to speak, no-one would be any the wiser.
Through the hustle and bustle of the crowd we determined the sanctuary lay straight ahead. While still taking in our surroundings we were approached by a friendly woman in her thirties. She introduced herself to my two companions and I, and with genuine warmth she welcomed us. Guess we must of had that I’m new here bewildered look on our faces
Our attempts to blend in with the locals had come to an end. Yep! In order to communicate with her we needed to open our mouths. Open them we did, and our foreign accents made it quite obvious to her we were not from there. Instead of causing us to feel like a freak show or a novelty, she made us feel at home.
Conversation was easy, it was like talking with an old friend. She explained a little bit about the church and what we could expect in the meeting. I personally found the information helpful and appreciated that she did not overload us with details. There was one important detail she had not covered, one that every woman wants to know. Where is the restroom? Am I right? Or am I right? We all need to know where it’s at.
Call To Worship
The sanctuary was full and we sat in the last row, in no time at all the first note of music calling all to worship rang out. The congregation stood to their feet and worship to their Lord and Savior, Jesus, commenced. I was not familiar with some of the worship songs but found if I listened to the words as I focused on Jesus, I could worship Him along with those who knew the words.
I was a long way from Kansas. Well long way from Arkansas to be precise, I had travelled to the other side of the globe. Way down under, further down under than Australia. I was in New Zealand, Land of the Long White Cloud, as it is known to the native Mauri people. I was a foreigner in a foreign land as were my two companions. Yet here I was worshipping the same savior, the same redeemer as I did in my home church in Arkansas, and as my two friends did in Great Britain. Here among God’s redeemed, we were no longer strangers or foreigners we were family. We shared the same out pouring of forgiveness and grace from the one who died for us.
Best Greeter Award Goes To:
I don’t recall the name of the young lady who greeted us when we visited her church in March of 2015. I do remember her warmth, her smile, the genuine interest she showed in us and our in welfare. I remember she came and sat and talked with us after the service as we enjoyed a visitors complimentary coffee.
Yes, she was on duty as a volunteer greeter but she took it further than just a job to be done. She ministered. It was evident she greeted from the inside out.
If you are a greeter at your local church I hope you are inspired to minister by greeting from the inside out.
Share your tips in the comments box for helping new guests feel welcome at your church. Look forward to hearing from you.