The Gospel According to the Church Parking Lot
I’ve come to a conclusion after more than a few years of ministry: One of the most revealing places on church property isn’t the sanctuary, it’s the parking lot.
Now, don’t misunderstand me. I love what happens inside the sanctuary. We sing our theme song, “All are Welcome Here,” pray heartfelt prayers, read God’s word, and hear a message meant to change our lives. But if you really want to know whether the sermon “stuck,” don’t watch people during the closing hymn. Watch them in the parking lot.
That’s where the theology meets the transmission.
It’s amazing how quickly things can change. Ten minutes earlier we’re singing our closing hymn and five minutes later we’re wondering if that fellow in the pickup truck intentionally stole “our” parking space. By the way, I’m writing these thoughts to myself more than anyone reading this article. I’ve caught myself thinking like that and must ashamedly ask myself, “Did you come to church to worship—or to win?”
Then there are the unofficial parking lot rules. Everyone has a favorite spot. Some folks have parked in the same place for so many years, they probably think it’s mentioned in the church bylaws. If someone else happens to park there one Sunday, you’d think they’d accidentally sat in Grandma’s pew. Speaking of pews…that’s an article for another day.
The church parking lot can also be one of the greatest mission fields we have. Before visitors grace us with their consistent presence, they watch us. They notice whether we smile, wave, hold a door, help a young mother with a stroller, or patiently wait while an older saint takes a little extra time crossing the driveway. Visitors may not remember the sermon six months from now, but they’ll remember whether anyone noticed they were there.
I’ve often thought that angels smile when they watch God’s people in the parking lot. Sometimes they must chuckle too. “Well,” one angel says to another, “they just spent an hour learning about patience. Let’s see how they do when someone backs out of a parking space...very...slowly.”
The truth is, the Christian life isn’t measured by how loudly we sing or piously we talk, it’s measured by how graciously we engage with our visitors and each other.
The Apostle Paul told us to “outdo one another in showing honor.” Imagine what our churches would look like if we actually competed at that! We’d race to let someone else have the better parking space. We’d hurry to hold the door instead of hurrying to the buffet. We’d become known as the friendliest people in town instead of the first people in line at the restaurant.
Jesus never was in a hurry to get the best place. He was always stopping for people everyone else overlooked—the blind man by the road, the widow in the crowd, the little children everyone thought were in the way. He noticed people because people were His mission.
Maybe that’s what the church parking lot is trying to teach us every Sunday.
Every handshake, every smile, every wave across the pavement, every small courtesy becomes a tiny sermon. And sometimes those little sermons are remembered long after the preacher’s has been forgotten.
So, the next time you pull into the church parking lot, don’t just look for an empty space. Look for someone who needs encouragement. Look for someone standing alone. Look for someone carrying a burden you can’t see.
Because the worship service doesn’t begin when the first hymn is sung. It begins with your first cup of coffee at home long before you drive through the entrance to that beautiful church on Brees Blvd.
And if somebody parks in your favorite spot next Sunday...well, smile, thank the Lord you’re healthy enough to walk a few extra steps, and remember this:
There are no reserved parking places in the Kingdom of God—but there are plenty of opportunities to show the love of Christ.
Grace and peace beloved,
Dick Ihfe
D. Min, Pastor of Care
