Voices: The gospel on a golf cart

Over many years of participation in Christian fellowship, I’ve learned faithful church membership involves consistency in worship, participation in a small group, financial generosity, and service.

When my family joined our congregation, I fulfilled three out of four of these commitments. I was missing service. The church newsletter had publicized a need for hospitality volunteers—ushers and greeters who offer a word of welcome and a warm smile at our exterior doors, at the entryway to the sanctuary, and inside the worship space as people settle into a pew.

That wasn’t all. We needed greeters in the parking lot. The first option I saw: the red wagon team. These leaders patrol the area nearest the children’s ministry wing, say “hello” to parents, and offer rides to children. Jesus expressly welcomes children into his kingdom and bids his followers to do the same (Matthew 19:14). It’s important work.

But I didn’t hear an angelic choir or feel enfolded by heavenly light until I saw another opportunity: the golf cart team.

Driving safely

I reached out to our hospitality team coordinator to express interest. There was no interview, nor a driving test. My inquiry was the application. I was hired.

I asked what I needed to know. I was given a date to serve, a time to arrive, and a time to conclude my shift. I was told where the golf cart would be parked and where to find the keys—in the ignition. There was no training, no laying on of hands, no commissioning service. Just show up and serve.

I reckoned I could handle it.

My first Sunday behind the wheel was filled with surprises. There were few cars in the lot when I began. As people arrived, I’d motor over.

“Good morning,” I said. “Would you like a ride?”

Some politely declined. Others declined less politely, with a gruff tone and grumpy demeanor. Though the sun was well over the horizon, joy had not yet come (Psalm 30:5). I prayed their day would improve. Maybe these individuals would find their way to the coffee station located in the foyer.

As the morning progressed, I had more takers. I picked up senior adults and young families. Some parents’ facial expressions told me they wanted to decline, but their children’s enthusiasm won them over.

I picked up a small group of college students, who instructed me to zoom by their friends on the way to the door. One of these students had a British accent. He marveled at the quality of the church’s coffee. I’m sure that’s not the only reason he came that day, but it counted among the things he was looking forward to.

All who rode were dropped at the doors with a word of blessing.

Though I only had a few moments to chat, I exchanged names with a few passengers. I picked up fellow small group members and a few of my friends.

One gentleman asked me if I drove the golf cart often. I said: “No, this is my first time. If you would, please leave me a five-star review on Google.” He said if I wasn’t back the following week, we’d all know why.

Serving scripturally

Romans 12:13 says, “Practice hospitality.” This exhortation is echoed elsewhere in the Bible, such as in 1 Peter 4:9, and being hospitable is listed among the qualities of an elder or overseer in 1 Timothy 3:2 and Titus 1:8. Widows in the early church were held in high esteem for extending hospitality to strangers (1 Timothy 5:10).

Hebrews 13:2 contains the familiar words: “Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it.”

I don’t think I picked up any angels on the golf cart. But who knows?

I’ve named a few New Testament examples. Hospitality is lauded in the Old Testament, too. Genesis 18:1-15 may be the most famous example, in which Abraham welcomes three strangers to his tent. This was a theophany, an appearance of God to human beings. The Lord himself spoke to Abraham and Sarah, promising them their long-hoped-for son would be born to them within the year.

Jethro extended hospitality to Moses (Exodus 20:22), and Job spoke of his hospitality (Job 31:32). Israel is sternly reminded to welcome the wanderer in Isaiah 58:6-12.

These ideas did enter my mind as I carried out my duties. But my thoughts were primarily occupied by Jesus’ parable of the great banquet, found in Luke 14:15-23. Verse 23 surfaced again and again, which says: “Then the master told his servant, ‘Go out to the roads and country lanes and compel them to come in, so that my house will be full.”

What began as an empty lot had steadily moved toward full capacity. One by one, I helped in the gathering as God’s servant, in God’s field, bringing in God’s people. My golf cart had become a vehicle for the gospel in proclamation and in actualization.

Seeing with God’s eyes

Hospitality ministry can be a thankless job. It can involve little training, sometimes amounting to no more than being handed a stack of bulletins and being pointed toward a place to stand.

But hospitality is an avenue of service that presents the opportunity for a depth of encounter, a richness of meaning, and an experience of God for the volunteer and those who arrive on a Sunday morning and receive a firm handshake, a personal greeting, and a word of blessing like “God bless you” or “We are so glad you are here today.”

These are God’s people. Whether they are near or far from him on that particular morning, he has gathered them in. Bless them in God’s name.

See people as God sees them. Extend God’s welcome. Embody God’s love. Greet the saints. And gather in God’s people. Maybe even on a golf cart.

Ben Simpson serves as associate director of spiritual formation with Baylor University’s Truett Theological Seminary. Connect with him at www.benjaminasimpson.com. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.