Church seating is a fascinating thing. Over time, most of us gravitate to “our spot,” whether that’s on the aisle, near a friend, or close to the back. I’ve even joked that if someone sits in your seat, it can throw your whole morning off. And of course we kid about being “back row Baptists.” (We Baptists don’t officially assign seats…but it sure feels like we do!)

There are good reasons for many of these habits. Some folks need to slip out early because of health or work schedules. Key volunteers, like ushers, need to get to their posts as the service winds down. Parents may want to be close to the nursery. And sometimes, a favorite section holds memories of a loved one, making that seat more than just a spot on a pew. All of these are meaningful, and as a church family, we want to be sensitive to each other’s needs and stories.

Still, there’s value in gently rethinking where we sit. Sitting closer has its perks: you’re less distracted, more engaged in worship, and you help create a sense of warmth and closeness in a large sanctuary. Plus, when our livestream cameras capture rows of empty seats near the front, it doesn’t exactly communicate the vibrant, welcoming community we know we are.

The Bible actually talks about seating, though it’s less about pew positions and more about our hearts. Jesus cautioned His followers in Luke 14 not to grab the best seats, but to choose the humble place. James reminded the early church not to play favorites with “prime seating” (James 2:1-4). In God’s Kingdom, the real question isn’t where we sit, but the spirit with which we worship.

With that said, here’s my gentle challenge: if you’re able, consider trying a closer seat sometime. You don’t have to sit in the very front row (unless you want a close-up of my socks), but moving forward a few rows helps create a sense of connection for everyone – especially guests who are looking for a welcoming place to land. It’s a small act of hospitality and presence that speaks volumes.

Of course, if your seat is tied to a memory, a need, or a role, keep it. There’s no guilt trip here – just an invitation to experiment. You might even find a new favorite spot where God feels especially near.

So, how about it? This Sunday, take a step forward – literally – and see what God might do. Besides, the front row isn’t nearly as scary as it looks. (I promise I won’t call on you like a schoolteacher. But I will welcome the encouragement you bring to the choir, to worship leaders and to me.)

Grace and peace,