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FWIW
The
musings of a webmaster
Sunday
10 December 2006
What's
this? |
Benvenuto alla nostra chiesa
Why
the church should be more like an Italian
restaurant
"I'll meet you anytime you want, in our Italian
restaurant."
Singer songwriter Billy Joel wrote a great and
memorable song about an Italian restaurant.
"Scenes from an Italian Restaurant" is actually
three songs fused together: it's a slice of life
song - about friendship, love, marriage and
divorce - bracketed within gentle, reflective
lyrics about an Italian restaurant
frequented, we assume, by Brenda and Eddy the
rise and fall of whose relationship is charted
in the core of the song.
It
has always been one of my favourite tracks, and
one that I used to play a lot in my previous
existence as a hospital radio DJ. Recently, it
has come to mind again during my travels for
work.
When, as part of my job, I get out and about
around the country I usually stay at the local
Holiday Inn. HI are easy to book, fairly
consistent, clean and efficient. In these
respects they have a lot going for them.
They also seem to me impersonal and soulless. I
feel processed rather than welcomed as a guest.
They are courteous but you can tell it is a
script. It is also clear that they don't trust
me. Almost the first thing I'm asked for
is a swipe of my credit card in case I do a
runner (just say "no - I'll pay cash" - it
confuses them no end!)
I
rarely eat in the hotel. The food seems
processed as well. I have got into the habit of
searching on the web for the nearest family run
Italian restaurant. Why? Because after the
stresses of the day I want to be welcomed not
processed. I want to be nurtured, and to
be in an environment where a solitary diner is
appreciated rather than treated as a bit of an
embarrassment. In a word, I am looking for
hospitality.
Sustenance and welcome
Italian
restaurants seem to know innately how to be
hospitable. For a start there is a
refreshing lack of big corporate image trying to
sell you something. If it is there
it's done sparingly - for this is a family
venture. The focus is on you, the food, the wine
and the welcome - not overwhelming you with an
excess of corporate information. The message is
"you are our
guest, not a consumer. You are a person
who has come in search of sustenance and welcome
- and we want you to find it in our restaurant.
It's about how we can serve you during the time
you are with us."
There is
always a smile. There is always that
indefinable something, never expressed in words,
that says "we're really pleased you're here".
It has got nothing to do with the corporate
training scheme; it has everything to do
with human beings extending genuine hospitality.
It's not overwhelming - your solitude is
respected. It's OK to read a book.
There is no
fuss. There is no feeling of "you poor
thing eating on your own". It's OK. We
know that people
away on business need to eat too - and you've
come to the right place. You made a good choice.
This is what we do.
Oh, and
another thing. The staff enjoy being here.
We're chatting with each other and with the
regulars - but don't feel excluded. You're a
part of this too.
I haven't
even mentioned the food. It's always good,
and usually you can see the chef preparing it
just for you. Italian food is not fussy -
generally it uses quite simple ingredients to
produce something wonderful. Unlike some
French food, it is not trying to impress with
its sophistication. Italian food meets you where
you are. You may not understand the whole
menu, which is sometimes in an unfamiliar
language, but the beauty of that language
reassures that it's OK to trust the chef.
In the past
9 months I have visited a number of family run
Italian restaurants and every one I want to go
back to. On one occasion I even organised
my visits to ensure I would be in the right
place at the right time to re-visit a
particularly good one!
Italians
know how to do hospitality.
The
church and hospitality
Most
churches are not in the restaurant business.
But we are here to offer hospitality. At
the very least we offer our guests a simple menu of bread and wine.
So what can
we learn from an Italian restaurant? Six points I
think.
Firstly,
like the restaurant in Billy Joel's song, the
church, at its best, can be a constant in
people's lives. They can live the highs
and lows of their existence bracketed by the
hospitality that the church community can offer.
Secondly, we
cannot hope to encourage our guests to return to
our church if we do not, genuinely, want to be
there ourselves. You can't fake it. The
regulars have to be having a good time.
Thirdly,
our guests come seeking sustenance and welcome -
and we want them to find it in our church. This
means a sincere
smile and a word or two from a real human being. There is no
place for processing people in the church.
Fourthly, we
need to be attentive and open to our guests,
whilst having the sensitivity to respect their
need for solitude, and allowing them to adjust
to their new environment. It's important to find
a balance - we must never exclude, but if we are tempted to
overwhelm this is may be a sign of our own
anxiety.
Fifthly, we
must have the confidence to be as we are.
There is no need to try and impress. We're a
family run concern here, not a corporation. No
credit card pre-authorisation is required to eat
here. The
message is "whether you are on your own or
in company, you've come to the right
place, this is what we do - and you are very
welcome."
And finally,
always remember that we are the waiting staff.
We are here to help the chef feed his guests.
And it is that food - bread broken and wine
outpoured - which is the real point of our
church.
And whatever
we may, or may not get right, we can be certain
that the chef
knows what he's doing.
Benvenuto alla nostra chiesa - welcome to
our church.
With