As a kid I was a serial hobby fanatic. Every week I had some new fad I’d become obsessed with. I was always on the hunt for that special activity, something I could dedicate my life and pocket money to.
Kite flying.
Parrot breeding.
Miniature model tank wargaming.
Cartooning.
Marching band drumming.
Archery.
Homemade fireworks.
I’d start them all, thinking I’d finally found “the thing”. But after a few weeks of enthusiasm, my energy would fade. Nothing ever stuck.
Fast forward 35 years, and I’m now an adult who often struggles to rest, relax and recreate. And so this year I decided to once again go in search of a life giving hobby. One fateful night I prayed, God, the next thing that piques my interest, I’m going to stop overthinking and I’ll take it on as my hobby.
In hindsight that was a dangerous prayer to pray! To my shock – and to my friends’ amusement – the two things that grabbed my attention that week were a) pigeon racing (via an interview on Radio New Zealand) and b) pétanque (via a Facebook group that popped up on my feed).
Okay God, I prayed that week, These aren’t quite the kind of things I’d expected. But I’ve struggled looking for a way to Sabbath for long enough… Let’s give them a go.
But the thing that surprised me the most about pursuing these two new hobbies – which I knew virtually nothing about – has been the experience of being the “newbie”. I hadn’t realised this until now, but in most areas of my life, I’m used to staying in my comfort zone and knowing how all the things work.
Especially when it comes to church stuff.
I’m someone who’s pretty comfortable walking into any flavour of church. It could be a hanging from the chandeliers Pentecostal worship night, an Eastern Orthodox church in another language, an Anglo-Catholic liturgical service thick with incense, or a contemplative Celtic service with people sitting silently in a circle. I’m used to being an eccleisal expert! Or at least knowing the territory well enough to not feel intimated.
Not so much when it came to these new worlds of pigeon racing and pétanque. Suddenly I was the person who knew nothing! I felt vulnerable, exposed, nervous… Even stupid.
I remember sitting in my car the first time I turned up to the pétanque court. I watched the people playing from a distance and almost chickened out altogether. It took much more courage than I had ever expected to walk up to 12 strangers, wearing various championship pins, to gingerly ask if I could join in.
It made me realise, this must be how it feels when someone decides to turn up to one of our services for the first time. It’s a huge step of courage to walk into a church when you know little or nothing about faith, but for whatever reason, your interest in Jesus has been piqued.
So let me share three things I’ve learnt on how we can receive first-timers on a Sunday, from my experience of being a newbie in the weird worlds of fast birds and flying boules.
In both clubs when I first turned up there has been a “person of peace” who has welcomed me, helped me navigate some of the interesting personalities in the club, and gone out of their way to explain the basics without making me feel like an idiot. They’ve shown an interest in me, being hugely encouraging from the moment I arrived, and taken me as I am. Being a newbie, I felt so appreciative of those people who looked after me till I found my feet.
Because these “people of peace” can be the difference between someone coming back again next Sunday or deciding to run for the hills.
I discovered in each club there was a whole new world of insider language, unspoken protocols, and a unique culture.
I remember trying to hold a pigeon for the first time as a chap handed me a bird. It wiggled around and I almost let it go. The club members looked at each other with a smirk, and I felt quite embarrassed. But then an old chap reassured me “It’s okay mate. We’ve all had to hold a bird for the first time… Ya hold it like this.” I remember as they loaded the birds into the hampers for a race, they’d hold each bird and assess them, using lingo I had no clue what meant.
“That one's a bit doughy… But this one’s way too corky! He’s like a flying meatloaf!”
But rather than leaving me feeling like I was a total idiot and an outsider, each person took turns explaining what things meant, how things worked, teaching me the basics, and sharing their passion in easy to understand ways. They absorbed the awkwardness for me – helping me catch their passion, rather than feel intimidated by the amount of stuff I didn’t know.
How can we help them navigate some of our insider language and the strange things we do, so they first and foremost catch our passion for Jesus, rather than feeling overwhelmed by our quirks?
Lastly, I discovered that in each club there was someone who was so passionate about seeing me “catch the bug” of the hobby that they were willing to go the extra mile to help me get involved.
Zay is a pigeon evangelist, and about the kindest man you’ve ever met. He’s given me pigeons to get me started, come to my house to help me set up my loft, given me nesting boxes, and even shared his top secret bird seed mix with me. Zay has been willing to do anything to help me have a positive experience as a newbie.
Without Zay I doubt I’d have stuck around. He’s the ultimate pigeon racing disciple maker. Not only that – Zay has taught me a lot about our club's culture, and I’ve noticed that I’m now doing the same to help welcome new club members. I want to help them out like Zay helped me. It’s contagious.
To go the extra mile, and to show them what our faith is all about, so they feel supported and catch the Good News?
My prayer and hope is that our churches would become places where we have “people of peace” ready to welcome, congregations who are willing to “absorb the awkward”, and passionate Christians who are willing to “go the extra mile” for those who have taken the courageous move of stepping onto our turf.
After all, if people can get this passionate about introducing others to pigeons and pétanque… Surely we can do the same when introducing people to Jesus!
Check out other articles in the
series below.
More articles in the
series are to come.
We have invited these writers to share their experiences, ideas and opinions in the hope that these will provoke thought, challenge you to go deeper and inspire you to put your faith into action. These articles should not be taken as the official view of the Nelson Diocese on any particular matter.
As a kid I was a serial hobby fanatic. Every week I had some new fad I’d become obsessed with. I was always on the hunt for that special activity, something I could dedicate my life and pocket money to.
Kite flying.
Parrot breeding.
Miniature model tank wargaming.
Cartooning.
Marching band drumming.
Archery.
Homemade fireworks.
I’d start them all, thinking I’d finally found “the thing”. But after a few weeks of enthusiasm, my energy would fade. Nothing ever stuck.
Fast forward 35 years, and I’m now an adult who often struggles to rest, relax and recreate. And so this year I decided to once again go in search of a life giving hobby. One fateful night I prayed, God, the next thing that piques my interest, I’m going to stop overthinking and I’ll take it on as my hobby.
In hindsight that was a dangerous prayer to pray! To my shock – and to my friends’ amusement – the two things that grabbed my attention that week were a) pigeon racing (via an interview on Radio New Zealand) and b) pétanque (via a Facebook group that popped up on my feed).
Okay God, I prayed that week, These aren’t quite the kind of things I’d expected. But I’ve struggled looking for a way to Sabbath for long enough… Let’s give them a go.
But the thing that surprised me the most about pursuing these two new hobbies – which I knew virtually nothing about – has been the experience of being the “newbie”. I hadn’t realised this until now, but in most areas of my life, I’m used to staying in my comfort zone and knowing how all the things work.
Especially when it comes to church stuff.
I’m someone who’s pretty comfortable walking into any flavour of church. It could be a hanging from the chandeliers Pentecostal worship night, an Eastern Orthodox church in another language, an Anglo-Catholic liturgical service thick with incense, or a contemplative Celtic service with people sitting silently in a circle. I’m used to being an eccleisal expert! Or at least knowing the territory well enough to not feel intimated.
Not so much when it came to these new worlds of pigeon racing and pétanque. Suddenly I was the person who knew nothing! I felt vulnerable, exposed, nervous… Even stupid.
I remember sitting in my car the first time I turned up to the pétanque court. I watched the people playing from a distance and almost chickened out altogether. It took much more courage than I had ever expected to walk up to 12 strangers, wearing various championship pins, to gingerly ask if I could join in.
It made me realise, this must be how it feels when someone decides to turn up to one of our services for the first time. It’s a huge step of courage to walk into a church when you know little or nothing about faith, but for whatever reason, your interest in Jesus has been piqued.
So let me share three things I’ve learnt on how we can receive first-timers on a Sunday, from my experience of being a newbie in the weird worlds of fast birds and flying boules.
In both clubs when I first turned up there has been a “person of peace” who has welcomed me, helped me navigate some of the interesting personalities in the club, and gone out of their way to explain the basics without making me feel like an idiot. They’ve shown an interest in me, being hugely encouraging from the moment I arrived, and taken me as I am. Being a newbie, I felt so appreciative of those people who looked after me till I found my feet.
Because these “people of peace” can be the difference between someone coming back again next Sunday or deciding to run for the hills.
I discovered in each club there was a whole new world of insider language, unspoken protocols, and a unique culture.
I remember trying to hold a pigeon for the first time as a chap handed me a bird. It wiggled around and I almost let it go. The club members looked at each other with a smirk, and I felt quite embarrassed. But then an old chap reassured me “It’s okay mate. We’ve all had to hold a bird for the first time… Ya hold it like this.” I remember as they loaded the birds into the hampers for a race, they’d hold each bird and assess them, using lingo I had no clue what meant.
“That one's a bit doughy… But this one’s way too corky! He’s like a flying meatloaf!”
But rather than leaving me feeling like I was a total idiot and an outsider, each person took turns explaining what things meant, how things worked, teaching me the basics, and sharing their passion in easy to understand ways. They absorbed the awkwardness for me – helping me catch their passion, rather than feel intimidated by the amount of stuff I didn’t know.
How can we help them navigate some of our insider language and the strange things we do, so they first and foremost catch our passion for Jesus, rather than feeling overwhelmed by our quirks?
Lastly, I discovered that in each club there was someone who was so passionate about seeing me “catch the bug” of the hobby that they were willing to go the extra mile to help me get involved.
Zay is a pigeon evangelist, and about the kindest man you’ve ever met. He’s given me pigeons to get me started, come to my house to help me set up my loft, given me nesting boxes, and even shared his top secret bird seed mix with me. Zay has been willing to do anything to help me have a positive experience as a newbie.
Without Zay I doubt I’d have stuck around. He’s the ultimate pigeon racing disciple maker. Not only that – Zay has taught me a lot about our club's culture, and I’ve noticed that I’m now doing the same to help welcome new club members. I want to help them out like Zay helped me. It’s contagious.
To go the extra mile, and to show them what our faith is all about, so they feel supported and catch the Good News?
My prayer and hope is that our churches would become places where we have “people of peace” ready to welcome, congregations who are willing to “absorb the awkward”, and passionate Christians who are willing to “go the extra mile” for those who have taken the courageous move of stepping onto our turf.
After all, if people can get this passionate about introducing others to pigeons and pétanque… Surely we can do the same when introducing people to Jesus!
Check out other articles in the
series below.
More articles in the
series are to come.
