An Introvert Peg in an Extrovert Hole

Story by Sarah Burt, photography by Kym van der Plas

I’ve heard the question, “Is church for extroverts?” asked a few times, and I have to say a hearty YES! I often feel misunderstood as an introvert. This article was born from many frustrating conversations with my more extroverted husband concerning chatting after church and at Christian conferences.

 I don’t always fit the stereotype of quiet, shy, stuck up, or awkward. I am a former librarian, but I don’t live alone, surrounded by a hoard of cats. Sometimes, like many introverts, I can be loud and social, the life of the party and up for a good time. The key difference between introverts and extroverts is how they recharge.

When you finish a long day of work, or come home after an epic party, what do you feel like doing? If you need time alone, you’re probably an introvert. If you need more ‘people time’ to give you a pick-me-up, then you most likely fall into the extrovert camp. Some people swing between the two.

So, what’s it like for an introvert at church?

The formal part of church is over and it’s time for morning tea and chatting. People are crowding around the food and hot drinks. Conversations are springing up everywhere. I get my coffee and stand awkwardly between the groups. I can hear conversations around me in all directions. Which one should I join? 

Someone comes to talk to me and I find it hard to hear what they’re saying. I hear snippets of other conversations and I work hard to keep focused on what the person is saying to me. I must remember to make eye contact as it’s polite. Sometimes relentless eye contact is a bit too much. I’m not meaning to be impolite by averting my eyes from someone’s face any more than they are meaning to give me a death stare by keeping eye contact. 

I’ve tried to make my husband understand that I’ve had to spend years with eyes in the back of my head, as many mums can attest to. Even now my children are older, my eyes keep flickering around to make sure they’re behaving and are okay. Old habits die hard. The conversation ends, the person goes to get more food, and I’m left alone.

After several tough years, my church is undergoing a sort of ‘mini revival’. People who have lived in the local community for years are suddenly coming along to church, either through an invitation or randomly rocking up through the Spirit’s prompting, which is so exciting to see. Are there new people with no-one to talk to? Should I talk to them? How do I keep a conversation going if they only give me two-word answers? I feel such pressure and guilt, like it’s my sole responsibility to individually speak to all these people, to make sure they feel welcome and know Christ’s love.

Sometimes it all becomes too much, so I just sit at the side, sipping my coffee, observing. I keep reminding myself it’s not my responsibility to do all of this. We are the body of Christ and a family of many parts. I don’t need to personally speak to every new person straight away (we’ve been encouraged to be ‘warm, not weird’, after all). I think back to how I felt being the new person at church. Basically, I just wanted someone to talk to me…someone not everyone, and certainly not everyone on my first visit. I didn’t need to be treated like a celebrity or a project, with everyone clambering for my attention.

I am so excited that God is at work in our church. One day, I’ll hopefully swallow my fear and speak to all of these new people, but if they are already speaking to someone else, then I don’t like to interrupt.

Some non-Christians have shared that they just want to check out church quietly and not have a big song and dance made about their presence. They want to hear about Jesus and have space to mull over what they’ve heard. I was like this when I was 18, not-yet-Christian and started coming along to the Bible talks at uni. I’d sit at the back and leave before anyone could grab me. I wanted to find out about this person called Jesus and not be known as ‘Sarah the non-Christian’.

Eventually I hung around the Christian Union more, met some great people and came to trust Jesus. It’s just important to know that while some people come along to church initially for the community, others are more drawn to the teaching.

Sometimes I’m tired. Sometimes I’m in pain due to an ongoing battle with an arthritic back and I have nothing left to give. I’m just hoping my face isn’t twisted in agony. I’m not cranky. I’d love someone to sit next to me. I’ve finally found a comfortable position and I’m not going to move.

Sometimes church feels like home, and other times there are so many new people it feels weird. I would never want to not welcome new people, but I see church as a home and I associate home with peace and familiarity, a place to come and be revitalised after a hectic week out in the world being in welcoming-front-office-lady mode in the school where I work. Yet, I know that’s not always what church should be. It’s a place where the doors are open to all who would come to Jesus, not my place of solitude where I can shut everything out.

I’m in the car with my kids, waiting for my husband to finish chatting. It’s lunchtime. I want to go home. My husband finally gets in the car and, on the 25-minute drive home, he starts suggesting having people over for lunch after church one week. I just want to sleep, but he starts talking about the logistics of putting the slow cooker on before we leave in the morning, or chucking something on the barbecue when we get home. There isn’t an abundance of shops and cafes out here. 

I want to welcome people to my home, but I’ve just had so many short chats and I’m drained. Back-to-back social events are difficult. I need more time to recharge. What if we invite someone we don’t know well and the conversation feels strained and awkward? What about the layout of our house? Some people have small children and mine are well and truly out of the toddler stage (we have no fire guard, Nintendo and iPad cords everywhere, board games with small parts in easy reach). I don’t want to make excuses, I just know I need to overcome this. 

For now, I just want my Sunday afternoon Nanna-nap. Even a 30-minute micro-nap in a dark room can help me feel more human.

I’ve just come home from a Christian women’s convention and I know my husband will ask me the following questions:
Husband: Did you see insert names there?
Me: Yes
Husband: Did you speak to them?
Me: Yes, to Person 1 briefly, but not to Person 2.
Husband: Why not?
Me: They were across the other side of the room, we had several hundred people between us and they were deep in conversation with someone else.
Husband: Why didn’t you just go over and say hello?
Me: They were deep in conversation with someone else, and I didn’t want to interrupt in case it was important and private.
Husband: I would have just gone over and said hello. You might not get to see them again for another year.

There lies the fundamental difference between myself and my husband. As good as church and those conferences can be, I find the flittering nature of conversations frustrating. You can enjoy a great chat with someone and then someone else comes over, the topic changes and the moment is lost. There are many women I haven’t seen for years, and I like to have meaningful conversations, not just say hi and bye.

I’m at my ladies’ growth group, sitting around a kitchen table with women of all ages and stages. I love Bible studies/growth groups/whatever you like to call them. There is nothing like clutching a hot mug of coffee in my hands, opening the Bible and sharing life. I can get to know someone much better over a few weeks in a Bible study than I could by years just seeing them at church. 

There is a new lady and it feels so easy to get to know her. I don’t feel worried that she’s going to get sick of talking to me. There’s no awkward ending to conversations when someone has to make an excuse to leave. We’re all together and it feels so friendly and warm.

Is church for extroverts? I truly believe the modern day church is more suited to those who thrive on conversations, buzz and people. There is temptation for introverts, like myself, to use how God made us as an excuse for laziness and apathy. God has commanded us to not give up meeting together. However tempting it can be for introverts to stay home and not see anyone, we need to push ourselves and make an effort. 

Maybe small house churches and Bible studies are the place where we thrive? Maybe we can meet one-to-one with a Christian sister? We can’t claim to be ‘recharging’ if we haven’t been around people at all.  Likewise, some extroverts may benefit from spending time alone, to learn how to be in one’s own company without the need for constant social connection. 

If you’re an extrovert, don’t stop encouraging your introverted friends to step out of their comfort zone, but do it gently. Just because it’s easy for you, doesn’t mean it’s easy for them. True Christians aren’t extroverts; we’re all a body of different parts. I need to figure out how to use how God made me for His glory. That will most likely involve prayers for courage, stepping out boldly on a Sunday morning, smaller groups, and a few Nanna-naps in between.

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Sarah Burt—Regular Contributor

Sarah grew up in a non-Christian family in Albany, met some Christian friends in high school, then Jesus became her Lord and Saviour while at University. She now lives with her husband and two boys, a dog, two cats and a number of chooks on a farm near Tambellup in the Great Southern. She is a school officer by day, and enjoys writing fiction and performing in amateur theatre in her spare time.