In the few days since the reviews of Olympic View and 30 other places of worship were featured in Seattle’s The Stranger, I’ve heard many responses from our members and friends.

Some have congratulated us on such a comparatively good review.  Compared with some of the area’s largest and most rapidly growing churches, we came off pretty well.

Some have observed that few if any of the reviewers seemed to be active church-goers.  Undoubtedly, a good percentage of the reviews began with the author speaking about how difficult the idea of going to a worship service actually was to him or her.

Personally, I am gratified that the woman who visited with us two weeks ago perceived the warmth of our community as a place where almost anyone could feel comfortable.  That conclusion was significant, in part, because she was Jewish and did not share our beliefs about Jesus.  She also approached our worship service with a fear of sticking out, of not knowing the basic rules, and of the possibility that we’d even ask her to confess her sins.

The part when she felt the most awkward came right at the beginning, when we welcome our guests.  In this case, as on most Sundays when we have guests who don’t seem to be seated with anyone planning to introduce them, I made a general invitation that guests feel free to introduce themselves.   Though we did not single her out for not doing so, she could tell that we were a tight group that knew one another well, and just about all of us knew she wasn’t a ‘regular.’

It would be nice to be able to meet the desires of those who come seeking a place to explore their faith in a more anonymous venue.  I understand how vulnerable one can feel when everyone else in the room seems to know each other.  I hope we will have conversations about how we can strive to deepen the intimacy of our community and widen the welcome to those who are not used to being in our kind of church.

But I also hope another conversation will emerge from this feature.  Overall, the reviews demonstrate that there remains a wide chasm between so many of the religious communities in our region and a good number of the folks in our city.  I suspect that some of the churches reviewed will not easily see ways to bridge that chasm.  What about us?  Are there good reasons why so many have such a strong distaste for organized religion?  Do other aspects of our civic life reveal places where we could find more common ground than we do on Sunday mornings?

I almost had the feeling that some of the writers were approaching their church visits as they would a music concert.  Will I like the music?  Will I like the message?  Will I fit in with the audience?  What will I feel while I’m sitting there?

In that respect, maybe their responses aren’t coming from such a different place than many of us are.  I regularly hear people giving me feedback to those very same questions.  Of course, the feedback is usually positive, as one might expect coming from those who are attending regularly, but the orientation is still principally that of a consumer rather than a participant.

Coming to our church isn’t like going to a concert.  The depth of meaning and awareness of God’s presence doesn’t come in pyrotechnic flashes or through ‘lighters in the air’ ballads.  These come through a sustained and participatory relationship in which each invests what he or she can in the life and well-being of the whole.  Our lives are transformed by those we spend time with and by those we serve.  It might be nice if that transformation could happen more dramatically, or more quickly, or with less commitment.   But I think our good news is more credible and more enduring.

Maybe the way to get that word out is to keep the conversation going.  The Stranger got it started.  Now the ball is in our court.