Cold misty rain wet my sleeve as I rolled down the driver’s side window. Who knew that 9:30 was too late to arrive for a 12 pm Clemson football game? I leaned my head out and desperately hollered at one of the thousands of football fans in the parking lot. “Hey! Is spot 445 down there somewhere?” One wide eyed and confused tailgater reached for her friend’s sleeve and tugged it to get her attention. She wanted to help but had no idea. I asked my question again. Her friend finally yelled back as traffic intensified behind us, “Yeah, go ahead and turn down this lane.” I peered down the “lane” she spoke of and saw no lane at all. All I could see was a collection of people, tents, grills, yard games, heaters, and steady rain causing puddles to form. The fear on my face must’ve been obvious to her as she encouraged me to slowly make the turn, and everyone will start moving.

Cars were backed up behind us. People making their way to the stadium had now engulfed the sides of our truck. I shrugged my shoulders and reluctantly cut the steering wheel hard to the left and entered the soft grass lot. The two-mph quest had begun.

Tents extended off the back of vehicles left only about three to four feet for us to drive through as far as I could see. People noticed our six- and half-foot wide Toyota Tundra and started clearing on all sides. Everywhere, arms motioned to us, and countless others were using their hands with their palms facing each other to show us impromptu measurements of how much room we had. There just wasn’t any space to drive without a complete removal of some tailgate setups.  My heart pounded as we had inches (sometimes less) between our truck’s side mirrors (now folded in) and a burning grill or tent. Hundreds of fans watching our every single move.

We finally saw spot 445 through the fog and grill smoke. One last dreadful right turn, followed by several hundred back and forth drive to reverse shifts, and we maneuvered the truck into our spot. Instant relief set in, and the nose of our truck softly kissed the paper parking sign. I’ll never understand how we didn’t hit anyone or anything. It was a miracle. As we exited the truck, bystanders welcomed our family and congratulated us on such an impossible journey.

Through the smoke and rain, I saw a clear picture of how a gospel centered church should welcome someone. Despite the disruption we caused their tight knit community, the fans received us (newcomers) anyway. Perhaps they had come late before and could sympathize with what we felt. Maybe they saw the terror in my eyes as we eased our way down the lane. Regardless of the reason, they cleared our path to entry and celebrated the victory with us at the end. We couldn’t have parked without their help.

From our perspective as a newcomer, we had to make that scary left turn to experience the community. It wasn’t easy. I knew there was a spot for us there, but I couldn’t see it initially. It was awkward and risky, but it was worth it. Taking that leap of faith into a community of God’s people can be the same way. God has called us to do it. Jesus went to church! See this subtle hint in Luke 4:16. And he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up: and he entered, as his custom was, into the synagogue on the sabbath day, and stood up to read.

From the perspective of the tailgaters who were parked and ready, they welcomed us with open arms. They are the reason we finally saw the spot prepared for us. Without their help, we wouldn’t have made it. From the initial conversation with the lady who encouraged me to “make the turn” to the countless others who dropped what they were doing to move their stuff for us, they all played a role. If you’re in a church community, it may be out of your comfort zone to welcome someone new. It’s also a part of the great commandment. Find the new person on Sunday morning and be understanding of that risky, awkward left turn they just took to get there.

Newcomers, God is with you! Make that left turn. For those who’ve been in the church, be a welcomer and follow God’s commandment!

Just fishing with my daddy,

Ryan