I love churches. For many years I have been a consultant to churches: newer churches, older churches, traditional churches, contemporary churches, growing churches and declining churches.

Do you know what almost all of these churches have in common? They think they are friendly churches. I can walk into a worship service at one of these churches and no one will speak to me. Maybe someone will give me a perfunctory hello and a handshake, but he or she will not engage me in any meaningful conversation. Their greetings are more obligatory than expressions of care and concern.

Just a year ago, I provided a consultation for a church with about 700 in attendance. The church is located in a southern state and has a reputation of being a pretty good church in its region. A slight but steady decline in the church's attendance prompted a call to me. The leaders wondered, "What could be wrong with our church?"

The consultation included an observation of the morning worship service. I intentionally arrived about five minutes before the service was scheduled to begin. The most conspicuous parking lot was full, and there were no clear markers or signs for additional parking. I finally found a spot in a more distant lot. When I got out of the car, I noticed the parking lot had numerous cracks with grass growing in them. Two huge potholes were within ten feet of my parking space. And the striping in the lot was faded almost to the point of invisibility.

I made my way toward the sanctuary though no one was available to offer directions or greetings. Upon entering the foyer of the sanctuary, I was half-heartedly greeted by five men whose average age I estimated to be in the 70s. One of them pushed a church bulletin toward me without saying a word.

Upon entering the sanctuary, I immediately discovered that all of the back rows and middle rows were filled. The first available seating appeared to be on the fourth row from the front. I made my way uncomfortably toward the unoccupied seat, sensing that 1,400 eyes were watching my every move.

The church did have a greeting time for guests. The pastor informed us alien beings to remain seated while the rest of the real people stood and greeted us. To be fair, several people did at least acknowledge my presence. But the view I had while seated and others were standing was not the most scenic! When the time of greeting was over, the real people returned to be with their own kind while no one dared sit within six feet of me.

I finally took the time to observe the facility in which I worshiped. Circa 1974 would be my guess at the decor.

I have a tolerance for a wide range of music styles. I love many of the old hymns but enjoy most contemporary music as well. The music in this church, however, was too traditional to reach the younger families the demographics indicated. But the problem was not just that the music was too traditional; it was slow, dirge-like, bad-quality traditional music.

The sermon was pretty good, consisting of solid exposition of the text with a contemporary application. No complaints there.

At the end of the service I approached others to attempt conversation, but most of the individuals were already engaged in conversations with people they knew. Oh well, I thought, it's time to leave. So I made the trek to the distant parking lot without a word spoken to me.

Upon returning to my hotel, I reviewed my notes from the interviews conducted the day before with some 15 church members. The most common remark given to me by those members? "We're the friendliest church in town!"

The church I visited obviously needed work. The members seemed to have little awareness of visitors or guests in their midst. They did things the way they had always done them and wondered why they were not growing.

Some churches, on the other hand, have taken seeker friendliness to another extreme. Fearful that factual biblical teaching will offend the scripturally uninitiated, the message is compromised and the method becomes sovereign. Such churches have a consumer-driven mentality. A church that totally disregards the needs of the unchurched will reach few if any for the kingdom. But a church that makes most of its decisions based on the perceived needs of the same group is in danger of losing its biblical identity. I wish I knew the perfect balance.

For most of the generations born before 1950, church is a place where you serve, sacrifice and give. For most of the generations born after 1950, the question is not "What can I do to serve the church?" but "What has the church done for me lately?"

The struggle with consumerism for church leaders is the need to know where to draw the line. Certainly the friendliness of church members is a "consumer-friendly" factor that any church should encourage. And basic cleanliness of facilities should not be an issue of debate. Even physical facility improvements that provide comfort to members and guests are not inherently wrong. Not many churchgoers in the South are debating the value of air conditioning. But how far should such comforts go? How much of a church's budget should be spent on comfort and aesthetics when it could otherwise be used directly for missions and evangelism? What level of capital commitment should be expended on a state-of-the art preschool facility in order to attract young families?

Since we do live in a consumer-driven nation, no church is immune from the harsh realities of dealing with a culture that views congregations from a consumer mind-set. What adjustments do we make to accommodate this culture? Where indeed do we draw the line?

At times it seemed as though our research into the world of the unchurched raised more questions than provided answers. The unchurched were very clear that certain issues of friendliness, cleanliness and comfort did affect their decision making process in choosing a church. And from their perspective, some of these issues had eternal consequences. Join me in the next two articles as we learn more from the unchurched about the importance of first impressions.