The Church of Joy: Little Things to Foster Connection and Belonging

I go to church because my testimony is strengthened as I learn more of the gospel. I go to renew my covenants as I partake of the Sacrament. I go because I enjoy the association with members of my ward.

But that’s all about I, I, I; me, me, me! What about you, you, you? What can I do to help others enhance their church-going experience?

This article is a follow-up to my thoughts that appeared in Meridian on September 23, 2024, “What Keeps You in Church on Sunday?”  That essay considered the reasons I go to church and challenged readers to ask the same question of themselves.  The objective here is to consider the person who sits next to me in church. It’s about focusing on giving, not just receiving. What makes others feel more comfortable being there? What causes them to be more likely to contribute in classroom settings?  More broadly, what do people want/need at church?  The focus is not about grandiose gospel principles.  It’s quite narrow—just Sunday church time.

Hopefully, worship is the priority when coming to church, but a feeling of belonging is also necessary. In addition to the ubiquitous and imperative football and golf postmortems, church should be a place where people feel loved, emotionally safe, and maybe even important.  Two-hour church makes it much easier for a person to come and go without meaningful interactions. Our social contacts can be left to chance, or we can make a conscious effort to go to church for the benefit of others.  The smallest expressions of interest and kindness can have a significant impact.

Some feel almost invisible in church and the simple recognition that they are there can make a significant difference. Being invisible has nothing to do with being seen, it means not being sensed or felt. There are those who sit on the emotional as well as the physical back benches of the meeting. We see only and small slice of their lives and have little idea regarding the physical, spiritual, or emotional burdens they bring each Sunday.  Many are fighting battles we know nothing about.  It can be a tough time, and the little things can get them through the day.

There is a couple in our ward, good friends, who always sit at the back of the chapel. I used to urge them to join the mainstream of the congregation. Then they explained their reason. The sister was from a less-active family and, as a teenager, she sat at the back with friends who welcomed her to church each Sunday.  They sit at the back now to help others who might be “barely there.” It allows them to better reach out to late- and seldom-comers who might need a hug and a smile.  Another couple purposely sit in a different spot each week to become better acquainted with ward members.   I get an “F” on this one. We just met with the bishop for tithing declaration and pre-paid for our prime pew in the middle of the chapel for all of 2025.

At the conclusion of David B. Ostler’s insightful book, Bridges, he shares the dilemma of a temple-married, returned missionary, church-attending young man, who wrote, “If we could cultivate a culture at our meetinghouses and in our private homes that welcomes curiosity, investigation, vulnerability, honesty, realness, and freedom of thought, I would be much more interested in participating more in the Church. But right now, I have to hide part of myself, the deepest and most spiritual part of myself….”  Church should be a welcoming environment, especially for those on the emotional or spiritual margins.  In Patrick Mason’s Planted, he observed that it would be OK if there was more of a smell of tobacco in church.  Wouldn’t it be better if we were more willing to meet people in church on their terms rather than require them to conform to our standards of orthodoxy?

My wife and I recently served a senior mission in a European country. There was a member of the branch presidency who was insistent that anyone who participated in administration of the sacrament must wear a white shirt. The problem was that many of the members were so poor that they didn’t own a white shirt.  He also pushed the idea that the leadership should be sitting on the stand at least 10 minutes prior to the start of the meeting and that the congregation should be sitting quietly in place. The church building had the chapel on the second floor and the entrance was on the main floor. This meant that visitors had to find their way upstairs and into the chapel. The eight missionaries in the area typically all sat together and chatted before the meeting. So, when a visitor came, there was no one to great him/her. It was a very sterile, unwelcoming setting.  Many came and went without any recognition of their presence.  I realize there is a need for reverence, but it won’t be felt by people who aren’t there the next week.

Have you ever had the experience of attending church in a new city and coming and going with no acknowledgement of your presence? In contrast, my daughter was visiting church in Las Vegas and didn’t know anyone in the congregation. About half-way through the meeting, a six-year-old girl sitting on the row in front of them turned around and handed them a letter written in crayon. It just said, “I’m glad you are here.” She related that story to me ten years after it happened, so it must have had an impact.

We need to be aware of windows of opportunity. As a young Bishop of a married student ward, I was sitting on the stand just prior to Sacrament Meeting when I watched Greg, a young husband, walk out the meetinghouse door. I felt impressed to leave the ninety and nine and go after the one. His church experience that day had not been positive, and he was walking out the door with no intention of returning. A little love and a church calling convinced him to give the church another chance. He remains a stalwart member to this day. It was an example of the words of Emerson: “You cannot do a kindness too soon, for you never know how soon it will be too late.”

A well-phrased compliment can make a huge difference. Mark Twain said, “I can live two months on a good compliment.” He also implied that the compliment shouldn’t be too subtle —“I have been complimented many times and they always embarrass me; I always feel that they have not said enough.” Usually, it’s not hard to find nice things to say to others. The effort is minimal, but the effect can be substantial. And a little bit of embellishment can be forgiven for the sake of a good cause.

Twentieth-century author Leo Buscaglia noted that “Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.” I had an experience in church a few weeks ago that validates this point. I was sitting waiting for priesthood meeting to start when a long-time friend walked by on the row behind me. He just touched my shoulder and smiled. I was surprised by the impact that very simple gesture had on me and its lasting impact.  It made me feel accepted in the group and closer to him.  Little things mean a lot.

The latest revision of the Church Handbook instructs that the first five to ten minutes of Elder’s Quorum meetings should be spent counseling together.  Our newly called Elder’s President decided to use this time to help us know each other better. He starts by asking, “Did anyone do anything fun or interesting this week?”  The first couple of times I thought this was a bit odd.  But then I noticed how quickly people responded and how interested others were.  I’m not sure if the intent of the Handbook is being met, but it has created a greater sense of unity and made us less of a class and more of a quorum.

Fulfilling callings can be a challenge for young families. The wife of a young bishop was left to wrestle with twin babies and a three-year-old during Sacrament Meeting. She survived because of the assistance of an empty nest couple who considered it a blessing to sit next to her each week and be surrogate grandparents.  Years ago, our neighbors had newborn triplets. They walked into meeting each Sunday and distributed two of them into willing hands.

My eldest daughter grew up with a younger sister who had significant special needs. Years later, married with teen age children, she was asked to take the assignment of sitting with a severely autistic young man during primary.  Her experience in our family prepared her for that challenge and she helped for several years.  They still have a special bond.  These examples aren’t unique. Most of you will have seen similar acts of service in your own congregations.

Anyone who has taught the Gospel Doctrine class knows the amount of preparation involved. When there are multiple instructors, some teachers start preparing weeks in advance and spend a huge amount of time on their lessons. Over the last few months, I have been a careful observer of what happens at the end of class. Typically, there are a couple of class members who come up to contribute their ideas and one or two who come to thank the teacher for the lesson. Usually, it is the same people each time. The rest of the class is involved in social talk or hurrying home.  The teacher is left in gospel limbo, wondering, “How did it go?”

If the instructor is new or if the calling is viewed as a reach, the number of people who express appreciation is greater. But, overall, we are not great about providing positive reinforcement. The same is true of Sacrament talks. The speaker may receive hardy congratulation from the Bishopric and a couple of others but is then left to wander off to class.

The lesson that doesn’t go too well or the talk that doesn’t work is an especially good time for providing emotional support. There is always something positive that can be said. Calling or texting can be effective. A short phone call or text message sent later conveys a different signal than a verbal response.  It says that what you said remained with me beyond when I left the room, and I took the time to reach out.  Even better, but increasingly rare in today’s virtual society, is a hand-written note of appreciation.

While on the subject of teaching, there is also something that instructors can do for class members.  In a large class with lots of “experts,” it can be intimidating to make comments. How the teacher responds can make a huge difference to the class member. A comment followed by a perfunctory “thank you” or, worse, silence by the teacher may be a discussion killer and stifle future participation. There needs to be a substantive, reinforcing response by the teacher. This can be challenging, but it makes a difference.  When I teach and a class member is responding, I am thinking about how I can support their comment. It might be, “that’s an idea I hadn’t considered”, “what do other class members think about that”, “tell us more about what you are thinking”, that’s a perfect segway to our next point”, or just simply restating the comment to affirm its importance.

We should be tolerant of the social faux pas of others and slow to take offense and make judgements.  Not everyone is a charm school graduate.   Recently, a young man with moderate to severe autism spoke in our Sacrament Meeting.  Small talk with him is challenging, and I always wonder what he is thinking.  But his talk was an amazing expression of insight and gospel understanding.  He became an instant ward hero. We will never have long conversations, but I now see him in a different light and have a greater desire to reach out and be supportive when I see him.  Another special needs brother in the ward is just the opposite. He reaches out to everyone with a handshake and greeting.  It’s hard not to be affected by his friendship and enthusiasm.

In one congregation, a blind woman comes to church each Sunday with candies and little toys for fussy children and cough drops to share when she hears a cough. She gets up with her white cane and heads for the sound to provide help. She epitomizes Mother Teresa’s observation that we may not all be able to do great things, “but we can do small things with great love.”

Efforts to reach out can be especially effective with the youth of the ward. Complements on a Sacrament Meeting talk or recognition for accomplishments at school can make a difference. Sometimes, when one of the priests has done an especially good job reading the sacramental prayer, I take the opportunity to let them know.  We need to be sincere, but a heavy dose of praise is OK.  We should try to be “kinder than we feel and kinder than is necessary.”

Sometimes an act isn’t even needed, and an attitude can make a difference.  This was a theme of Elder Patrick Kearon during October 2024 General Conference.  He noted “We can all contribute, no matter our age or our calling, to making our Sacrament Meetings a joy-felt, Christ-focused, welcoming hour.”  He went on to say that “We communicate welcome to the ‘Church of Joy’ by the expressions on our faces” and “by smiling and sitting next to (others) with a kind and open heart.”  His point was that our attitude of joy and gratitude can be infectious.

Twentieth Century Evangelist Billy Sunday quipped that going to church doesn’t make me a Christian any more than going to a garage makes me a car.  My resolve is to try harder to reach outside my comfort zone and to attend church on Sunday to give rather than to get. When I greet brother Jones or sister Lopez, am I just using a title or am I expressing a heartfelt relationship?  I have a long way to go, but I would like to do better at making everybody feel like they are somebody on Sunday.  Little things mean a lot.

The post The Church of Joy: Little Things to Foster Connection and Belonging first appeared on Meridian Magazine.
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