Eleven years ago, I decided to take up running. I had never run other than in PE class in elementary school and a required fitness class in college, and I actually thought it sounded terrible. At the time, though, I had an elementary-aged child, a preschooler, and a toddler. I needed an outlet! A gym membership was too expensive, and I thought that a no-equipment, no-membership sport sounded just right. (No one had yet explained to me the cost of running shoes, race fees, or the physical therapy and doctor’s appointments.) I had seen a sign for the Nolensville Running Club’s Couch to 5K, and I decided to give it a try.
I showed up for my first Couch to 5K (C25K) night very nervous. I knew nothing and wasn’t sure I would be able to keep up. Everyone there looked like an expert with special water bottles, NRC tank tops, and high-tech watches. They all knew each other, and I didn’t know anyone. I felt like an outsider and an imposter.
Right away we were put into groups and paired with mentors. As it turned out, not everyone had fancy watches or matching shirts. Those were just the NRC members. And there were a lot of them there, which was why I was confused. Many, many members of the Nolensville Running Club had signed up to come to all the C25K meetings to run alongside new runners. They signed up as official mentors and running partners, or they just showed up that night to run in a group and provide support. There were more NRC members than there were C25K runners.
On that first night, after some whole-group motivation and instruction, we began running. We were told we would run for a few minutes and then walk in intervals. One mentor led the pack and kept time, and other mentors were sprinkled throughout, with one bringing up the rear. They all provided words of encouragement and advice, getting to know us and helping us run to the next light pole or building. And when the first walking interval officially started, the strangest thing happened. The runners at the beginning of the pack started circling back, coming up behind the rest of the group. I asked what was going on, and a mentor told me, “It’s a courtesy loop. We don’t leave anyone behind.”
Over the course of the next few months, I found myself looking forward to C25K nights even though they were hard work. Every night someone would say, “Melissa! I’m so glad you’re here!” I never had to run alone. There was always someone to talk to, someone to run with, someone to cheer me on. I felt wanted and included. I felt safe. I felt encouraged.
And I will never forget when I had a stunning realization about this next-level hospitality:
This is what church should be like.
Seventeen years ago, when Jim and I moved to Nashville, we began the difficult process of finding a new church. Everywhere we went, we felt like outsiders. We did not feel wanted or welcome in the very places we should have felt most cared for and seen. We even attended this Fellowship Bible Church for several weeks in those early years when it met at Blackman Middle School and had trouble making connections.
It turns out that our experience in visiting churches was, unfortunately, very “normal.” Chances are you have experienced it too if you have had to look for a new church home in your adult life. Most people report that when visiting churches — including ours — they have experienced feeling unwelcome or left out. We have all been given the grace of Jesus, and we have more reason than anyone on the planet to offer hospitality, but we, the Church, don’t always do it well. How can we possibly explain this? We certainly can’t defend it.
I think there are a lot of reasons we don’t welcome people in churches the way Jesus would, including our own comfort, weariness, awkwardness, or believing we don’t have a certain gifting for hospitality. But these are all things that keep us focused inward, and inward is the very problem.
Imagine if my C25K program had been full of people who only looked after themselves. They would have continued to run alone or in small friend groups and left new runners behind to peter out and give up. They might have run at a pace that no new runner could manage. Or they might have just taken off immediately when the night was over instead of lining up to offer high fives, which was a hallmark of the running club. Instead, every action that was taken expressed, “You matter, and you belong here.” And this culture wasn’t just true of the Couch to 5K program. It was true every Wednesday night and Saturday morning that the group ran together for all of the years I was a part of it. No runner was excluded, regardless of pace or experience.
The question we should ask is, what is the equivalent of this in the church? How can we go beyond mere friendliness to Unreasonable Hospitality? (Side note: That is the title of an excellent book by Will Guidara that I highly recommend!) I think the key is that it takes everyone. If only one or two people had showed up as ambassadors for NRC, it would not have had the desired effect. But because everyone made a point of including others, it perpetuated and defined the culture. Looking out for new people and including them was just expected.
The same should be true of the church. We are all ambassadors of Jesus. We want all people to experience His love and grace. And we can’t depend on official door greeters to make that happen. We all must be on the lookout for new people, saying, “I’m not sure I’ve met you yet!” Each of us needs to ask about their families and their lives and remember their names. We need to ask them to sit with us and invite them to the women’s retreat or the men’s Bible study and not expect that someone else will do it. We should do this because that hospitality is exactly what Jesus offers to us. It doesn’t stop after a friendly greeting.
Let’s be a church where visitors feel more than welcome; they feel consistently seen and included. Let's be so full of grace, changed by Jesus, that we cannot help but look for others with whom we can share that grace. Let’s offer to run alongside others, make courtesy loops, and ultimately say to others what Jesus says to us:
“I want you here.”