There are two things conventional wisdom says you shouldn’t talk about much: religion and politics. I manage not to talk about politics much, but religion, well … all it takes sometimes is someone asking me what I do for a living, and off we go.
Christmas parties, birthday parties, backyard barbecues … I end up chatting with somebody who asks me what I do, and I say something like, “I work in communications and publishing for a non-profit.” Sometimes this is enough. Other times the next question is, “What kind of non-profit?” My answer: “the Lutheran Church.” I figure “the Lutheran Church” suffices, given most non-Lutherans don’t know that there are several kinds of Lutherans, and if I say “the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America,” they might get scared off by the E-word and mistake me for, you know, one of those Christians.
Usually the conversation goes something like this: “Oh, that must be interesting. I was raised [fill in the blank]. But I can’t really say I’m [fill in the blank] because I don’t go to church or anything. I mean, I believe in God and all, but organized religion just doesn’t do much for me.”
At that point I either say something lame, like “Yeah, that’s so true for lot of people these days” and change the subject, or I decide that I’m in the mood to engage, and I ask, “So what would a church that appeals to you look like?”
That, of course, is where the conversation gets interesting. The answer always boils down to wanting an authentic experience of community, and worship and preaching that helps them feel like they’re getting closer to God, living a more meaningful life and giving something back.
My conversation partner also usually says something like, “It’s really hard to just walk into a church for the first time.” I ask, “Has anybody ever invited you to their church?” You can probably guess that 95% of the time, the answer is no.
Then I often give my church a little plug and tell them they’re welcome to join us any time. Someone even took me up on the offer once; not exactly a great track record, but at least I gave the invitation.
So the next time you’re at a backyard barbecue and you’re getting to know somebody, try working into the conversation at some point that seems right that you’re a member of such-and-such Lutheran Church. You might have a fascinating conversation about God, church and religion, and you might even help someone find a spiritual home.
I used to be afraid of these conversations, but I’ve come to welcome them. They’re not as scary as you think.