When I’m driving and notice a church with an “All are Welcome!” sign in the yard, I wager in my mind that I’m passing a church that wishes they had more people, and that all aren’t really welcome there. Most churches nowadays are struggling with low numbers. And for most churches, the people who are there look and are a lot like one another. Some churches frankly prefer it that way!

We could beat ourselves up over our lack of diversity. Sure, the churches are embarrassingly segregated – which wouldn’t be so grievous if we didn’t post “All are Welcome!” signs, and if our theology wasn’t being a people who cross society’s normal boundaries. The best we can do is to confess we aren’t quite what Jesus intended when he started gathering people to follow him – and to realize that when we do so, we are far from alone. Our best is all we can muster.

So who is welcome in church? Or who isn’t? – two good questions for churches to ask. Often our services use insider code language unfamiliar to strangers. Often we’ll say “Open your Bible…” or “You’ll recall Ezekiel’s vision…” – which shouts to the people we’d most love to reach, who don’t have or know a Bible, This is not a place for you. Often churches rate themselves high for being “friendly” – but maybe they’re laughing and chatting with one another that they already know but don’t speak to the newcomer. Hospitality isn’t being friendly. It’s insuring everyone is included, cared for, not made uneasy – especially the one most likely to feel uneasy.

Is there an unspoken dress code? Probably there is, and it’s enforced by raised eyebrows… What do we talk about? Years ago, I’d invited to worship a couple I’d met who lived in a trailer. They came! and moseyed up to two other couples who were engaged in a friendly debate over which country club had the best cuisine. I moaned.

More importantly, today, are churches little religious outposts for people of like-minded political leanings? The church where I work tries hard to be a “big tent” church, believing we’re better together, and that God expects us to be a place where dialogue, listening, curiosity, more listening and love despite differences are the norm, daring even to show society how it’s done. But it’s hard to be such a church. Our truths are higher and better than either political ideology.

For all to be welcome, we need to assess what messages we send out there. What’s our reputation on the street? When I started as pastor of a suburban church, I met some of our neighbors, told them my new job, and they said “Oh yeah, that’s the church that has the annual BBQ fundraiser!” Are we the quick-to-arrive, visible and diligent hands of Christ when there is a storm or a crisis in town? Do we show up where people don’t expect us to show up? – something Jesus did all the time.

All are welcome? I have a neighbor whose front door mat says “Welcome.” But I sure wouldn’t walk through his door uninvited at dinner time. Jesus was pretty clear: “When you have a party, do not invite those who can invite you in return, but invite the poor, lame, blind… and if they don’t come, go out into the highways and hedges and compel them to come in” (Luke 14). Everywhere in the Bible, one person is amazed and blessed, and then urges another, others to come and see. Invite. Invite. Show some love and enthusiasm for your church. People have jaded images of church or have been wounded by church. Invite them to come. Offer to come with them.

“All” will never feel welcome. But what can we do, change and be so “more” are welcome, or invited actually, taken by the hand, treated as family?