by Dr. Jeff Mathis
If I had known about the game of Ultimate Frisbee when I was a teenager, I might have been named an All-Star.
Maybe.
Ultimate Frisbee is relatively new on the scene of team athletics. A Frankenstein-like mix of soccer, football, and the throwing of a plastic disc, ultimate frisbee is perfect for pick-up games in sun-bleached parks for college students and young adults.
For reasons I cannot fully comprehend, the game of Ultimate Frisbee is a better fit for my athletic abilities than basketball, football, baseball, or chess. So, when I learned that the seminary community at Princeton had an Ultimate Frisbee game every Friday afternoon, I was there. I may have even scheduled my entire seminary career around this casual Ultimate Frisbee game. #priorities
When I took my first position in full-time ministry at a church in Tucson, Arizona, after I graduated from seminary, I grieved the loss of these games of Ultimate Frisbee. Yes, I enjoyed the game itself. But more than that, I missed the friendships the game provided me.
I did not know anyone in my new hometown. Remembering how Ultimate Frisbee had been a place of connection and community for me, I showed up one hot September afternoon to join a local rec league. I remember being nervous when I took the field to begin warming up with several dozen others. Although the event constituted a kind of ‘open call’ for participants, the teams had already been formed.
It became evident that I was a stranger. Everyone had a place on a team except for me. The other young adults were not unkind; they just didn’t care. Their teams were set, and they didn’t feel the need to include one more teammate. I threw the disc around with several folk. I shook hands and tried to learn other people’s names. I tried to break in. But the other player’s indifference shattered my expectations that the local league could be a place of community and friendship.
Perhaps I gave up too quickly. Likely, I wasn’t resilient enough to keep showing up and making a place for myself. I certainly wasn’t my best self at the moment—I was lonely and new to town, which is why I was eager to make new friends in the first place. However, I was unprepared for a cold response and never returned after that one attempt to join a team.
I can’t help but think that this is some people’s experience with the church. Perhaps, it is yours. Newcomers to our church frequently tell me this is their experience when visiting churches in general. If this is true, then here are some observations that may inform our response to those looking to break in:
1.) If people take the risk to show up and worship alongside us, it demonstrates that they really want to be with us. In a world with infinite things to do, attending a church service reflects a deep desire to be there. No one casually attends church anymore.
2.) People desire connection, community, and friendship. Churches are frequently distracted by secondary details and considerations that overlook the central fact that people simply want to belong and to be loved.
3.) Our hospitality, offers of friendship, and follow-up to guests and newcomers when they come to our church are the most powerful expressions of ministry we can do.
I am grateful to belong to a church that seeks out guests and makes room for newcomers to find a place in our church family. This is a gift that we have been given that has certainly not been given to all. Each week, I see you seeking out the stranger and making them feel like they can belong. You’re learning our guests’ names, listening to their stories, and making plans to follow up with them. In doing so, you are Christ to them.
Whether on the frisbee field or between the pews, showing love to the outsider is the most Christ-like thing we can do.