On the other side of the door

I went to our church in Darrington on Good Friday, Church of the Transfiguration. After the Stations of the Cross and Good Friday services, and pie and coffee with all those who call this church home, I began my preparations to make the long, nearly three hour "trip around" that is necessary now due to the Oso mudslide. While Janet Loyd, Vicar of Transfiguration, and I were standing out by my car before my departure, a young couple, most likely high school age, came walking by, and came up to us and asked, "we were just wondering, why are all the cars at the churches today, it's Friday?" And so we introduced ourselves and told them about Good Friday and Holy Week. They proceeded to tell us they walked by this church all the time, and especially he, kept looking at the church, and the front door, and finally, I asked, "do you all want to see the inside of the church? " And they both said, "yes, we walk by it all the time and we have never looked inside."

"Well, the door is open, go right in, and if you have any questions, let us know. Stay as long as you like." And they did, and they stayed, for quite a while. When they emerged, they talked some more, and Janet realized that the young woman was one of her elementary students from some years back, and they hugged, and Janet said, you know Sunday is Easter, why don't you come to the service and join us. "We might just do that" they said. And then they joined hands, and walked on. It made me wonder if we ought to stand outside the church building more often, just stand there, greeting, answering questions. I thought of my church in Austin, Texas, the last church where I was Rector before being elected bishop. We, every year, had a huge motorcycle convention in Austin, over 10,000 bikers would come to town. We decided to put up, all during those days, on our lighted sign in front of the church, "Bikers Welcome" And you know I don't ever remember one actually coming to church, but what we did remember, all during those days, whether sitting in my office, or even when we were in church, we would hear those big engines roar by, and we would hear the honks, the honk of "thanks" "back at ya"

We seem to measure success in the church only if they cross our threshold, and not the other way around. Success, if there is such a thing, is really in making the connection. The introduction on the street, the honk of the bikers going by, making the door open. The point may not be getting people to cross that threshold, but instead making sure they know they can, whenever they need it.

Bishop Greg