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The word parish is not one commonly used in nondenominational churches. For those who have an awareness of the word, one conjures images of tall Catholic steeples, old wooden pews, and stain-glassed windows.
But its origins provide a meaning that directly impacts what it means to truly be a church. Many evangelical pastors frequently tell their congregation that the church is not the building; it’s the people. As it turns out, parish is a word that hammers that point home.
The English word “parish” comes from the Greek paroikia, which means “staying,” “sojourning,” or “living as a foreigner beside others.” Early Christians used this word to describe themselves as people who belonged to heaven but lived as long-term visitors on earth.
We, then, are a pilgrim people living away from home together under God’s care. A parish is not just a religious club; it is a community of those who know they are on a journey and need one another along the way.
In modern Western culture, many people feel like outsiders already: new to town, new to Canada, new to faith, or just quietly unsure where they belong. When a church remembers that it is itself a community of pilgrims “away from home,” it becomes naturally open to those who feel out of place.
Welcoming outsiders into a church family has real value today because:
- It tells the truth about the gospel. A parish that welcomes all people lives out the message that God gathers people from every background into one new people.
- It answers loneliness with belonging. Many carry a deep ache to be known; a parish that sees itself as a shared household for exiles offers a place to be received, not just attended. This is why King of Kings reminds visitors that they belong here.
- It models a different kind of community. In a world sorted by income, preference, and ideology, a pilgrim church brings together young and old, rich and poor, new believer and lifelong Christian around one table.
When a congregation forgets that it too is “not at home” here, it easily becomes defensive, closed, or inward-looking. Remembering the pilgrim identity of the parish keeps the doors, the language, and the relationships open to those who are still on the threshold.
Practically speaking, the goal is not to treat new people as guests in our house. Rather, we receive them as fellow travelers who are just earlier or later along the same road.
This has practical implications:
- Hospitality becomes central, not optional. Coffee after the service, shared meals, and informal invitations become means of embodying the truth that no pilgrim should walk alone.
- Pastoral care stretches beyond members and attenders. If a parish is formed around a geography of people “dwelling near” one another as strangers, then the spiritual and practical needs of the wider neighbourhood matter, not only those on the membership roll.
- Worship takes on a journey shape. Prayers, songs, and sermons remind the community that they are being formed as citizens of another kingdom even as they live faithfully in this one.
In this way, the parish becomes a signpost: not the destination, but a resting place on the way home.
Many modern people carry a vague sense that they are “not at home” in their own lives—restless in their work, anxious about the future, uncertain about faith. The ancient idea of parish speaks directly to that experience by naming it: you are a sojourner, and that dislocation can become the doorway into grace.
I didn’t write this article because we intend to switch from referring to ourselves as a church. In today’s Christian landscape, parish still communicates a particular theological and cultural distinctiveness. It’s not a word non-denoms are comfortable with.
But I wanted you to consider that the people you connect with and worship Jesus with are here today and gone tomorrow. The reason we are here is to grow the parish and nurture the parish. The end goal is to leave the bondage of fallen earth and move into a new, glorified heaven and earth with perpetual communion with our Creator.
Make your space inviting. Open it up to outsiders. Make them feel like they belong to the family; a family of travelers on our way home.