The man was a newcomer in town. On his first morning he went into the local restaurant for breakfast. Around a large round table was a group of locals eating breakfast, drinking coffee, and sharing stories and laughs. He could tell he didn't belong in that circle, so he quietly found a booth where he would eat alone. If one in that circle had gone over to him, introduced himself, and invited him to join the group, he might have accepted or politely declined, but he would have been impressed with the friendliness of the town into which he had moved and might have been inclined to return to the restaurant to speak again to the man who had befriended him.

On the Lord's Day, he went to worship with the church. As he walked in
he noticed several groups standing together, enjoying conversation. He could tell they were close friends who had known each other a long time. He was hesitant to join any of the groups, so he quietly went to seek out a place where he could worship. When he came to the first pew, however, it was filled with notebooks and Bibles, so he knew that seat was not for him. He went on to the next, but there was a line of footstools, and so it went until he found a place in the middle of a pew that seemed not to be "reserved." There were a few polite "hellos," but his reception was hardly better than it had been at the local restaurant. He "just didn't seem to belong."

Does the Bible not speak of some who "just didn't belong"? "My brethren, do not hold the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Lord of glory, with partiality. For if there should come into your assembly a man with gold rings, in fine apparel, and there should also come in a poor man in filthy clothes, and you pay attention to the one wearing the fine clothes and say to him, 'You sit here in a good place,' and say to the poor man, 'You stand there,' or, 'Sit here at my footstool,' have you not shown partiality among yourselves, and become judges with evil thoughts?" (James 2:1-4). The poor man would know "he didn't belong in that group." But one does not have to be poor to feel that a group is not warmly receiving him.

Efforts to Correct the Problem

Some churches appoint "greeters" who stand at the door to welcome visitors. This no doubt is helpful. The visitor can recognize, however, that the "greeter," no matter how warm and friendly he may be, is fulfilling a role given to him. Consequently
his good work cannot substitute for spontaneous warmth, friendliness, and concern on the part of the congregation as a whole.

Others deliberately "dress down" so that a visitor who comes in casual clothes will not feel uncomfortable. We appreciate the thought and are very respectful of brethren who are doing this, but we wonder about the effectiveness of this practice. After all, there are people who have been taught from childhood that when they go to worship, they should wear their "Sunday best," and when they find the whole group dressed in jeans, they might wonder about their disregard for the occasion. We would also ask:

If a man in a suit showed genuine warmth to a visitor in jeans, would his warmth not communicate that he doesn't judge others by the clothes they wear?

The Answer: Genuine Concern for Others

An incident that occurred several years ago provides the best answer. A young lady, a member of a denomination, had married a Christian. Having promised to attend services with him, she found a seat and immediately said, "I wonder whose seat we have." "You don't have anyone's seat," the lady seated in front of her said, "You are welcome here and you can sit anywhere you like." "My heart just melted," the young lady told me later. Is it surprising that a few months later she was baptized? Her husband now serves as a deacon.

Concern for others! Counting others better than ourselves (Phil. 2:3-4)! Leaving our little group of friends to welcome a visitor! Even going up to a visitor whom we see in the parking area, introducing ourselves, welcoming him, and introducing him to others! Giving up our "end of the pew" seat so the visitor doesn't have to crawl over us. This is the answer.

By the way, our newcomer learned of another faithful church in town and went to worship with them the next Sunday. He was welcomed warmly and he soon asked to be received in the group. And the first church wonders why the church across town is growing while they seem to be stagnant???

"And He said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in needs, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ's sake. For when I am weak, then I am strong" (2 Corinthians 12:9-10).

NORMALLY, WE THINK OF OUR OWN ABILITY AS AN ADVANTAGE. Whatever we think we need to do, we'd rather be able to do it than not be able. We cringe at the thought of personal insufficiency, of coming up short. But in our relationship to God and in our work in His kingdom, there is a sense in which our own personal strength can be a disadvantage. "Natural strength is often as great a handicap as natural weakness" (Hannah Hurnard).

Whenever there is something that we can do and we know that we can do it, we are tempted to believe that our strength is our own: this is OUR ability, WE have learned how to do this thing, and so forth. We begin to feel independent and self-sufficient, and our need for God recedes into the background. It is strange but true, the more we think of the things God has made us able to do, the less we pay attention to the God who made us able to do them.

To Paul, God said, "My strength is made perfect in weakness." Paul, like all of us, probably enjoyed days when he felt adequate and sufficient to do what had to be done. But in truth, God could do a good deal more with Paul on the other days — when Paul felt weak rather than strong. So God gave Paul a "thorn in the flesh" to multiply the number of days when he would feel weak. Those would be the days when he was most conscious of his dependence on God's help and therefore the days of his greatest usefulness.

When a "thorn in the flesh" makes its painful appearance in our own lives, our natural response is to want it to go away as quickly as possible. Yet if it is God's will for us to continue to deal with it, our attitude needs to be the same as Paul's: "I take pleasure in infirmities … For when I am weak, then I am strong."

"God uses chronic pain and weakness, along with other afflictions, as his chisel for sculpting our lives. Felt weakness deepens our dependence on Christ for strength each day. The weaker we feel, the harder we lean. And the harder we lean, the stronger we grow spiritually, even while our bodies waste away. To live with your "thorn" uncomplainingly — that is, sweet, patient, and free in heart to love and help others, even though every day you feel weak — is true sanctification" (J. I. Packer).