Welcome Home

Can I share something about myself real quick?

I consistently (and sometimes unintentionally) make habits of living in in-between spaces. As just one example, I’m serving as a pastor here in North Carolina, but my membership as ordained clergy sits among friends in Virginia. (It’s a long story…) But I tell you this because one of the things we do as A People Called Methodist — something we’ve done for hundreds of years — is gather every summer in a 3(ish)-day meeting called Annual Conference. It’s part of our common life together. And because my clergy membership is in Virginia, I travel every summer to participate in Virginia’s Annual Conference.

But here’s the thing: Without fail, every year, on the drive to Hampton or Roanoke, my stomach twists in knots. I get super anxious and all in my head. It’s mostly because I start to believe the lies that I probably don’t belong. That I’m not “one of them” anymore. That it’s going to be super awkward to catch up with people I only see once per year, and they’re going to ask me uncomfortable questions about why I’m not in Virginia more often. Or worse, and most painful… maybe they’ve forgotten about me altogether.

Like clockwork, I had all of those feelings again this year as I walked through the doors of the Hampton Roads Convention Center last June.

But this year, get this — as I made my way to the first session pushing through a massive crowd, a clergy colleague named Drew shouted my name: “Brent!” When I looked over at him, Drew offered a the warmest, biggest smile you can imagine and two brief but powerful words.

He said, “Welcome home.”

And immediately, I felt like I belonged. Again. I got the chance to tell him a few months later how much it meant to me — to be called by name, to know I hadn’t been forgotten, to be welcomed with such warmth. It changed the whole dynamic for me that weekend.

I offer this because I wonder if I’m not the only one who needs to hear those words. Between the diaspora and isolation of the pandemic and the breakneck fit-everything-in pace of summer, you may have similar feelings — of disconnection and hesitancy and wondering if you still belong. Prolonged separation can reinforce those false narrates, can’t it? I can be my own worst enemy in that way.

But in case there’s any question, I want to assure you that our posture each and every week at The Local Church is the same as that of Drew and, well, of Jesus — who lived, died, and lives again with open arms. We delight in your presence. You’re never forgotten. And when you connect in any way among us, you’re always home.

But don’t just take my word for it. Let us show you. Tomorrow at 10 am, during our Sunday gathering, we’re celebrating the third anniversary of our worship launch, and there’s nothing we’d love more than to celebrate with you. Whether you’d consider yourself a regular or you’ve been watching from the sidelines — or maybe it’s been a while since you’ve connected and you’re hesitant about re-engaging, consider this your invitation to dive in. It’s the perfect opportunity. We’re launching a new series (more on that below), welcoming a new Partner, celebrating with cake pops from Carolina Cravings in Pittsboro (!!!), and also blessing the dear, faithful saints who lead our children’s spiritual formation time each week. It’s going to be so good — and there’s nothing I’d love more than to see you.

And when I do, I’ll be sure to greet you with a smile and say, “Welcome home.”