How to Welcome

'All are welcome', claims the website, noticeboard, or outside A-board of every church in the land. It's not always true, of course. But most of us try. 

The sidespeople - legally, at least once upon a time, the assistants to the churchwardens - are the first faces visitors see in most churches. They hand out booklets and news sheets and point newcomers in the right direction. We hadn't had a meeting of our sidespeople for years and years and I thought it was about time we did.

I felt more than vindicated by last week's main Sunday service when Sally found herself as the sole sidesperson and nobody noticed. I didn't twig that she was on her own. Towards the end of the first hymn, I saw a young woman with a baby hanging about in the entrance area of the church, looking a bit lost. Sally had returned to her seat, close to the front; a pillar blocked her from the sightline of Peter the churchwarden; Rick the verger was sat right at the back of the baptistery and so couldn't see her either. I was the only one who could. As soon as the second hymn started and I could move, I went to find her as she'd just slipped out of the door: there was no sign of her. Of course she might have had no intention of joining in, but now nobody would know. There were only two children present, sisters who I know well, and they were getting a bit vocal as the service went on. I thought they could take up the collection as a way of including them, so as that began during the last hymn I suggested it to Sally, still not realising she was managing alone, realising as I was speaking that she had no idea who I meant. 

At the meeting we discussed all sorts of things from fire extinguishers to credit card readers, but the first decision was what should be the abundantly obvious one that no sidesperson should ever have to try to manage on their own!