Pastor Debbie informed us that she was thinking of removing the back row of chairs at the church.
“That’s where you sit, isn’t it?” she asked me.
“Yes,” I said and felt my eyes narrow just a bit.
It’s funny how we become attached to our seats at church, our parking spaces at work, little things that are unassigned but are somehow very important.
In one of my favorite episodes of King of the Hill, the Hills leave their church after a new family takes over the Hills’ pew.
Hank Hill explains the importance of “their” pew to the pastor saying, “I know God’s up there and He knows I’m smack dab in the middle of the second pew.”
Hank’s pastor then explains that there are no assigned seats in Heaven, so she will not be assigning pews at the church.
Initially, I chose the back row for the same reason I parked so far out in the parking lot that first Sunday … in case I needed to make a quick exit.
It’s been a couple of months now and I know no quick exits are needed, but I still sit in the back row. I tell myself, that like Hank Hill, I sit there so people can find me easier.
“Hey, where’s Kendra … oh there she is, right there in the back row.”
Honestly, though, that’s a sorry excuse.
I sit in the back row, in the same seat, every Sunday because … that’s my seat … there’s nothing rational about it … it’s just where I sit.
I’m so attached to that seat that during the “passing of the peace” I only shake hands with the people I can reach … from my chair.
Last Sunday, during the peace, Diane grabbed my arm and physically pulled me away from my seat. “Let’s meet new people,” she said.
As we moved further and further away from my seat, I found myself shaking hands with new people, but also looking behind me. Could I dart back to my chair? No. More and more people were filling in the gap behind me.
It’s silly … I know … I’m silly.
The thing is when I sit in the same seat and never venture out, people have to come to me and I know that’s not what God wants. No matter how shy I am, God wants me to get up. He wants me out of that comfort zone. He wants me to see the other side of the church. Apparently, there are people over there. And why should I be afraid of them?
Everyone I have met at Hope Episcopal has been nothing but kind and generous. In fact, they are some of the most giving people I have ever met and I need to meet more of them. And I need to be the one to go to them.
That being said, I did tell Pastor Debbie that if she took the row away I might just put the chair back and start the row again.
She thought I was joking.
I probably was.
