Make Sunday's Uncomfortable (an article by Rebecca McLaughlin)
Did anyone cut your conversation short last Sunday at Church? Anyone notice an emergency?
If you haven't listened to last week's sermon, you might not know what I'm talking about. In our 'One-Another' series we unpacked the command to show hospitality to one another. Not the kind of hospitality that's about putting on a perfect meal or impressing our guests. Rather, the kind of hospitality that reflects the heart of God, who welcomed us when we were strangers.
We saw from 1 Peter 4:9 that Biblical hospitality is about stranger love; opening our hearts, homes, and lives to others, especially those who are on the margins. It's not a site note in the Christian life; it's central to our discipleship. We were reminded in the sermon why we do it… We do it because God commands it, Jesus modelled it, and ultimately because Jesus has done it for us. He was cast out so we could be brought in. He welcomed us, and now we welcome others in His name.
Adam quoted Rebecca McLaughlin in the sermon:
"In times of crisis, we do strange things. We interrupt conversations. We set aside social conventions. If someone collapsed in your church building, everyone would mobilize. But every week, people walk into our gatherings for the first time and get effectively ignored. They may not know Jesus, or they may have spent years wandering from him. Their spiritual health is on the line, and a simple conversation could be the IV fluid God uses to prepare them for life-saving surgery. Eternal lives are at stake."
A bold statement challenging us to see the emergency that is a person alone at Church… A statement that encourages us to keep our eyes open, walk across the room, make Sunday gatherings (sometimes) just a little bit uncomfortable.
In her article 'Make Sunday's Uncomfortable', Rebecca lists three rules of engagement at Church. Take a moment to read them, and then… let's action them on Sundays!
Rebecca writes:
- An Alone Person in Our Gatherings Is an Emergency
In times of crisis, we do strange things. We interrupt conversations. We set aside social conventions. If someone collapsed in your church building, everyone would mobilize. But every week, people walk into our gatherings for the first time and get effectively ignored. They may not know Jesus, or they may have spent years wandering from him. Their spiritual health is on the line, and a simple conversation could be the IV fluid God uses to prepare them for life-saving surgery. Eternal lives are at stake.
What if it's a regular church member who is alone? An isolated believer is an emergency too. "By this all people will know that you are my disciples," said Jesus, "if you have love for one another" (John 13:35). Of course, we all enjoy solitude at times, but loneliness in church is as much an indictment on our gatherings as prayerlessness or lack of generosity. How can we claim to be "one body" (1 Corinthians 12:12) when we can't even sit together and engage one another in church?
I come to church with a family of five. But the primary family unit in the New Testament is not the nuclear family: it's the church. In fact, Jesus promised that anyone who left family to follow him would receive far more family among his people (Mark 10:29–30). There are tangible ways we can express this in church. Those of us who come with nuclear families can invite others to sit with us, or even separate to sit with others.
Last Sunday, for instance, I chose to sit between two sisters in Christ — one from Nigeria, one from Ghana — and to enjoy worshiping Jesus with them. Being one body with our spiritual siblings means more than sitting with others in church, but it certainly doesn't mean less.
This call is not just for married people. If you come to church by yourself, don't underestimate what God could do through you to bless others. A while ago, a single friend shared her sadness about sitting by herself at church. She is a delightful, socially agile extrovert, and I told her she had no right to sit alone when she could be blessing others with her company! My guess is that we have all, at one time or another, walked into a gathering and wondered, "Who will love me?" What if we asked ourselves instead, "Whom can I love?"
- Friends Can Wait
The Bible calls us fellow soldiers (Philippians 2:25; Philemon 2), and few bonds are stronger than those forged in battle. Soldiers seldom turn to face each other. Rather, they look outward, standing shoulder to shoulder, or in extreme situations, back to back. Combat increases their closeness.
"Do you recognize that woman?" I asked another friend a few Sundays ago, as we started to talk. "No. I should go and talk to her, shouldn't I?" she replied. As I saw my friend walk off to greet a newcomer, I felt a closeness I would not have known without our shared endeavor.
Friends can wait for our attention on a Sunday. Better still, they can mobilize in mission too. Spurring each other on to welcome strangers in Christ's name won't weaken our friendships; it will deepen them.
- Introduce Newcomers to Someone Else
A few years ago, I met a woman in the checkout line at Target. She had recently arrived from China and was a visiting scholar at Harvard. We got talking and I took the risk to invite her to church. She said yes. Her English was far better than my nonexistent Mandarin, but we were nonetheless relating across a language barrier, so after the service I introduced her to a Chinese-speaking friend. Minutes later, my sister in Christ was exchanging numbers with this newcomer. I hadn't been able to explain the situation, but my friend immediately recognized the gospel opportunity before her.
Even without a language barrier, newcomers benefit from multiple connections. When possible, I seek someone with an overlap: same country of origin, home state, school, profession, or stage of life. But our gatherings should cut across all demographic lines, and we must commit to connecting with those unlike us.
In fact, if some of our Sunday conversations aren't difficult — pushing us beyond our usual conversational topics to reach across differences — we're likely not conducting fellowship right. Calling out the racial, cultural, and social divides of his time, Paul reminded the Colossians that in Christ, "there is not Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free; but Christ is all, and in all" (Colossians 3:11).
Friends, let's be a people that lives out the commands to love one another, forgive one another, serve one another, and…show hospitality to one another. May our Sundays reflect the welcome we've each received in Christ.
Emma
