A visit to the philosophy seminar – a lesson for churches

Last Thursday was date night, and my wife and I were looking for something to do. We stumbled across a philosophy seminar via TimeOut.

This kind of event isn’t something we would usually go to - the organisation running the seminar sounded a bit odd (read: unfamiliar), and the speaker at this particular event even odder. He was the author of ‘The significance of the Lotus Flower’ – not a work I am familiar with! However, on Thursday afternoon we were feeling brave.

We found the address and rocked up to the lobby. We were already feeling a little less brave by this stage – we were hungry, and the seminar wasn’t in a particularly public location (in a room on a floor in a multi-storey building in the city).

We didn’t know if we were in the right place – there were no signs showing us where to go, and we had to consult the building directory to find where the seminar was taking place.

We ummed and aahed about heading in.

Eventually, we decided to get in the lift, and then poke our noses in. The problem was – the room was at the end of a long-ish corridor, and there didn’t seem to be a lot of people there. From our vantage point outside the lift well, it didn’t look like it would be that easy to just ‘poke our noses in’. It looked like it was an all or nothing affair – commit, or not, but there was no going back once we’d walked in.

So, not with our stomachs winning over our curiosity, we took the easy road and went back down the lift to find some dinner.

I share this story, because we realised last Thursday that this is what church can be like for people who are unchurched.

These people may be interested in coming along (perhaps they saw an ad your church placed online, or a postcard in the letterbox), so they’re curious, but need some coaxing and convincing that it’s a safe place to be.

Then, when it’s not easy to check out church without being locked into going, when it’s not easy to spot the exit points, or if it looks like they might be the only ones there, they bail.

This is what church can be like, and I don’t blame them for bailing – we did too!

Churches can learn from this. Here’s five lessons that come to mind:

  1. have clear signage so that people know they’re in the right place, and where the should go next.
  2. have friendly, normal-looking people at the entrance points (and there may be multiple), to help people know where to go, and be a smiling face when they arrive (a smile melts many fears!).
  3. be in an accessible location (a room tucked away might be cheap, but it feels a bit cultish and inaccessible).
  4. open up all the doors so people can look in.
  5. when people tentatively approach, welcome them, and let them know it’s ok to take a look inside without committing to staying.

Have you been in a similar situation? What else could churches learn from this experience?

Related to this, I recommend reading: ‘I’m not a Christian, but I’m coming to your church this Sunday‘.

  • Andrew Vella

    Who was running the event, was it the a group called “School of Philosophy” or “Practical Philosophy”? 

  • http://www.communicatejesus.com Steven Kryger

    I can’t remember – and when I tried to look it up again, I couldn’t find it. Weird!

  • Neon Tango

    Agree 1000% with you and especially with item 4 (“Don’t make a big deal out of introducing me…”) in the linked article, “I’m not a Christian, but…”  I =am= a Christian and I identify with all the speed bumps you and The Resurgence author covered.  Over the past month or two, I’ve been visiting churches, looking for a new church home but, I’m wary, too. 

    Even my former church, a loving and caring community now dissolved by its diocese, occasionally misstepped in this department.  I still remember how I cringed the two Sundays a visiting priest was inspired to ask visitors to “stand and introduce yourselves.”

    I’m an outgoing person, yet, when I visit the various churches from the list I’ve cultivated via friends’ recommendations and online research, I’m there on a dual mission — to worship AND to check out the situation.  Yes, I’m shopping, to put it bluntly.  If I’m uncomfortable with some aspect of the church, I need to know I can make a quick and unobtrusive getaway without disturbing anyone or having a spotlight turned on me.

    Other put-off’s:  churches whose website is far afield from their presence and reality, positively or negatively.

    Example 1 – One church I wasn’t even sure existed, except online — I was four clicks into their website before I found a street address or phone number for them.  Having to work so hard to find out how to “drop in” means I won’t bother; what other difficulties might lie ahead?

    Example 2 – A church in our community, long known for its stilted “high church”, old school traditions and atmosphere, has a rockin’ razzle-dazzle website so unlike them, I thought I’d stumbled across the website of a similarly-named church in another town.  I went ahead and visited, thinking, “Okay, maybe they have something fresh happening.”  Nope, no, nada, nyet.  (Nothing against old-school, it’s just not for me.)

    Example of a welcome that works:  A new-ish church, meeting on the second floor of a large community theatre complex, makes certain from the first page of their website (and “above the fold”!) to boldly point out I’ll need to enter by the theatre door “at the west end, the door nearest the XYZ Market”.  In keeping with their casual and joyous webstyling, they aren’t shy, either, about reassuring me I’ll be entering the second floor auditorium from the back and they humourously point out “we “keep the bevvies and pastries going all morning — just in case you need fortification!”   All of this, from the atmosphere to the particulars, is repeated in their business cards, hard-copy and electronic mailings, and their telephone announcement.

    Consistency, congruency, and congeniality, no strings attached, no speed bumps, exits clearly marked and easily accessible ;-)  

  • Neon Tango

    Agree 1000% with you and especially with item 4 (“Don’t make a big deal out of introducing me…”) in the linked article, “I’m not a Christian, but…”  I =am= a Christian and I identify with all the speed bumps you and The Resurgence author covered.  Over the past month or two, I’ve been visiting churches, looking for a new church home but, I’m wary, too. 

    Even my former church, a loving and caring community now dissolved by its diocese, occasionally misstepped in this department.  I still remember how I cringed the two Sundays a visiting priest was inspired to ask visitors to “stand and introduce yourselves.”

    I’m an outgoing person, yet, when I visit the various churches from the list I’ve cultivated via friends’ recommendations and online research, I’m there on a dual mission — to worship AND to check out the situation.  Yes, I’m shopping, to put it bluntly.  If I’m uncomfortable with some aspect of the church, I need to know I can make a quick and unobtrusive getaway without disturbing anyone or having a spotlight turned on me.

    Other put-off’s:  churches whose website is far afield from their presence and reality, positively or negatively.

    Example 1 – One church I wasn’t even sure existed, except online — I was four clicks into their website before I found a street address or phone number for them.  Having to work so hard to find out how to “drop in” means I won’t bother; what other difficulties might lie ahead?

    Example 2 – A church in our community, long known for its stilted “high church”, old school traditions and atmosphere, has a rockin’ razzle-dazzle website so unlike them, I thought I’d stumbled across the website of a similarly-named church in another town.  I went ahead and visited, thinking, “Okay, maybe they have something fresh happening.”  Nope, no, nada, nyet.  (Nothing against old-school, it’s just not for me.)

    Example of a welcome that works:  A new-ish church, meeting on the second floor of a large community theatre complex, makes certain from the first page of their website (and “above the fold”!) to boldly point out I’ll need to enter by the theatre door “at the west end, the door nearest the XYZ Market”.  In keeping with their casual and joyous webstyling, they aren’t shy, either, about reassuring me I’ll be entering the second floor auditorium from the back and they humourously point out “we “keep the bevvies and pastries going all morning — just in case you need fortification!”   All of this, from the atmosphere to the particulars, is repeated in their business cards, hard-copy and electronic mailings, and their telephone announcement.

    Consistency, congruency, and congeniality, no strings attached, no speed bumps, exits clearly marked and easily accessible ;-)