Church Hospitality: An Epidemic of Loneliness
In 2023, the U.S. Surgeon General issued an 82 page advisory report on the epidemic of loneliness and isolation that is occurring in the United States. Dr. Vivek H. Murthy detailed,
“People began to tell me they felt isolated, invisible, and insignificant. Even when they couldn’t put their finger on the word “lonely,” time and time again, people of all ages and socioeconomic backgrounds, from every corner of the country, would tell me, “I have to shoulder all of life’s burdens by myself,” or “if I disappear tomorrow, no one will even notice.”
This concerning report points to a huge imperative for the church. People need and want to be known and loved.
Over the last year, I’ve visited a lot of churches. Many do nothing to connect with, acknowledge, or follow up with visitors. In fact, most of the churches I’ve visited probably have no clue that I visited at all. There was usually no invitation to visitors to return, to make themselves known, to be seen, to be welcomed. If anything, there was sometimes an opportunity for visitors to take information on how to “reach out to the pastor if you want.” As faith leaders, we should not be putting the onus on guests to tell us if they want to talk with us. We should know who they are, that they visited, and reach out to make a connection and relationship. We are operating as though we need to tiptoe around the idea that this guest may want to attend our church. Surely, they want to attend some church. They want community. They came to visit you for a reason.
They want a community which teaches them to share their burdens with others. People want connection and relationship to break into their lives. Not only do people want community and connection but churches are always lamenting that no one is prioritizing community and church anymore. On one hand, there are many adults lamenting that there is “no where” to make meaningful community anymore. On the other hand, you have churches who are lamenting that there is “no one searching for community anymore.” It’s safe to say that neither statement is true. Sure, there is no guarantee that church or faith-community is the type of connection that people are looking for. In fact, plenty of those who are lonely are likely not Christian at all or may actually belong to a church that they do not feel known at.
However, what is abundantly clear is that the need for meaningful and interconnected community is there. Churches need to stop acting shy about connecting to visitors. Churches need to stop acting passive in their ministry as though everything about church should be up to visitors to opt into. Community will never form if we allow people’s internal fears, monologues, and prior conditioning to influence whether they show up, return, or reach out to us. There are times when it’s perfectly reasonable to expect that we, the Church, must reach out, call, text, invite, sit down with, and otherwise place ourselves into the lives of those who are inching their way towards community. We have the onus to make each person in our community feel known.
An anecdotal case study
After a year of attending a church where I never felt known, I recently started going to a smaller, less flashy, less resourced church. The first church had a greeters cart, smiling greeters, graphically appealing signs, well-run tech, cool art, ambient lighting, a full band, and a well-stocked coffee cart. I attended for a year, attended a retreat, lingered at the coffee cart to try and catch people I recognized before they bolted out after service, joined a leadership cohort, and tried waving at people from church when I saw them in public. I could have disappeared off the face of the Earth or moved to another country and no one from that church would have noticed I was gone. No one would have followed up. In fact, after months of not attending, no one ever did follow up.
The new church I’m attending is a small Korean American church. Most of the members have been there their whole lives or their whole time living in Minnesota. I’ll just be real: nothing they have, present, or produce is fresh and new. Nothing is graphically well made, nothing is very updated, everything is a little bit corny, and they aren’t large enough to own their own building. It’s all stuff that I used to cringe at when I was imagining what “innovative ministry” was. It’s basic. However, what drew me in wasn’t anything about the service but rather, it was their hospitality. When I arrived, two older members approached me and asked if it was my first time visiting. I said yes, and they took down my name. The pastor announced my name and welcomed me as a visitor. Awkward maybe, but everyone noticed I was there. Afterwards, the pastor ensured that he invited me to fellowship afterwards. My worst nightmare, sitting in a church basement and having lunch with a bunch of people I’ve never met. I wanted to say “Oh no thanks, I have to get to work.” I stayed.
I was handed an egg salad sandwich on white bread. I turned around and had no idea where to sit so I stood awkwardly and waited for other church members to find their tables first. I was waved over to a table with a group of older women. They spoke in Korean and called me handsome and wondered if I was a student. I thanked them for the compliment in English and they were delighted I could understand Korean. They asked me about myself and shared about who they are. They told me about each group sitting at the various tables. They explained aspects of the church and inquired about my life. Then the pastor walked over and excused me from that table and took me to another. After awhile he came back and brought me to another. I was there for an hour of fellowship meeting every English speaking member of the congregation who was there that day. It felt sort of silly but it felt genuine and nice. As I was gathering my things to leave, the last two guys who I was sitting with told me “See you next week.” There wasn’t any weirdness about whether I was still shopping around for churches and no hesitation. Surely, if I came to visit and I stayed for this long then I should come back. The confidence with which they said “see you next week” made me feel compelled to return. Maybe it’s my people pleasing but it was also nice to hear from someone that they looked forward to seeing me again and that they would in fact see me again.
I came back for a second week. This time there was kimbap. This time I talked to even more people and revisited some of the same people. This time I was introduced to others by church members and not just the pastor. I was known. People boldly asked personal questions without shying away. People cared to know more than face value.
Eventually I missed a week because I went to my parents’ for Easter. The following Wednesday the pastor texted to be sure everything was okay. Some might think this is overboard or invasive but if that’s not what a pastor’s job is then what is? I’d never had that before. I explained and he said he’d see me the following week. Then I missed for being sick. Again, the pastor checked in. I told him I was sick and he told me he would pray for my health. No shaming that I didn’t show. No dropping off from pursuing a connection because I blew off church 1 week. Consistency. Connection. Building a relationship.
This little church showed me abundant hospitality and none of it was “innovative.” It is what churches and pastors can do at the very least.
Is it possible church doesn’t need to be “innovative”?
