Voices

There is a small diner I frequent often in our town for lunch.  From the moment you walk in you feel as if the calendar has moved back 40 or so years.  I love this place.  It is filled with conversation, laughter, the sizzling of meat on the grill, everything you think of when you think of a diner.  Everything, including the cheesy signs and the bar with stools.  But the thing I love the most is that no matter who you are, you are welcome.  I watch the employees as they joke, sing, even pat the old timers on the back in a way that says, "I value you."  So I keep coming back.  There is comfort here; comfort food, comfort in conversation, a place where the worries of life are dropped on the doorstep. There is a noticeable difference between being welcoming and feeling welcomed.   This makes me think about our churches.  Why are places in the world more comfortable to people than the bastion of hope that the church is supposed to be?  Is our church a place