Occasionally, I find an article or a video about a person on an airplane and the struggle with having a child behind them on the plane that kicks their chair. I don’t know what it is, but there is deep seeded primal annoyance with chair kicking. I’m not sure there is a person alive who this wouldn’t bother. However, there is a valuable lesson in chair-kicking etiquette that I would like to share with you. Our church combines the two services we usually have during the year into one service during the summer. As such, that one service is often full. So it was this morning. My wife and I came in just as the service started and sat in one of the back rows.

As the service continued, a newer family sat behind us. Throughout the service, the youngest son consistently kicked the back of my wife and I’s chairs. She wrote on the bulletin that he was kicking her chair, and I nodded. It’s tough to learn about Noah, while every couple of minutes, you get bumped. However, I thought about that new family in our church and their young children. That family needs Jesus. Their kids are sitting in our pews and listening to our Pastor talk about living life in dedication to Christ. Isn’t that worth a distraction? Of course, it is! I want nothing more than to have more kids kicking my chair. Of course, it is.

A week or so later, a friend sat in front of us at church. Throughout the entire message, she whispered to the young man beside her. Now, when I say whispering to him, I mean constantly! An almost neverending stream of whispers. You might be thinking, “How rude.” However, again, there is more at work here. My friend is translating (as quietly and unobtrusively as she can) so that this young man can hear the word of God. Is it distracting? Maybe, but it’s not a big deal to me. This young man is being fed the truth of all the universe through a loving and compassionate woman who wants nothing more than to allow this young man access to the gospel.

Years ago, a minister told me a story about a hotdog get-together his church was having. They were having hotdogs and advertised it throughout the surrounding neighborhood. “Come out for free hotdogs and Gospel singing!” the signs read. Many new people showed up. After the hotdogs, the people piled into the sanctuary for the singing. In the back, the minister watched a little boy come into the sanctuary carrying two hotdogs, one in each fist.

He was dirty, his hair a mess, and he had clearly dressed himself that day. His hotdogs were loaded down with mustard. That’s how he liked them; he had prepared them just right. But as he walked to a seat in the front pew, he dripped little spots of mustard up the aisle. He sat on the front pew, happily munching his hotdogs, singing along with the choir, spraying hotdog and mustard the entire time.

The service ended, and several people approached the minister and complained. He merely walked to the custodian’s closet, took out the rug cleaner, and got down on his hands and knees to clean the floor. He smiled at those complaining and said, “That little boy was fed tonight. And he had fun singing songs he didn’t know yet. Mustard on the carpet is worth a soul.” That’s how I want to be. That’s the kind of church I want to help create for the masses.

Please, give me more families. Please, give me more children. Please, give me all the people, the multitudes. Give me the single mothers with the crying babies. Bring them all into MY church because it’s not MY church; it’s Jesus’ Church. Swell the walls, make it hard to find a seat, give me the kicking on the back of my chair, and the kid dripping and spraying mustard on the carpet. Give me all of it. Make my church a destination of discomfort for those who regularly attend so that those who do not regularly attend will feel welcomed and loved. God make me uncomfortable until I am willing to realize that it’s not about me.

D. Michl Lowe