We have a couple with a toddler and a newborn starting to attend our church regularly. They were rescued by our pastor (and a brother in Christ from a different church), from a homeless encampment locally called the “jungle”. Just this week a homeless man was stabbed in the neck and stomach and robbed while sleeping in his tent in the “jungle”. Should I ask them to leave, since last week the father had on old holy jeans? Their toddler runs all over the church expressing “Joie de vivre”. Should we send him back to running around amongst the trash, hundreds of propane cylinders, beer cans & bottles, needles, and unsavory characters? Should we reject the mother and her newborn baby because doesn't have proper “church” clothes?
Maybe she should have had the baby in the squalor of the “jungle”, where she belongs, until she could meet the church dress code.
The lyrics of a Casting Crowns song comes to mind....
It's crowded in a worship today
As she slips in
Trying to fade into the faces
The girls’ teasing laughter is carrying farther than they know
Farther than they know
But if we are the body
Why aren't His arms reaching?
Why aren't His hands healing?
Why aren't His words teaching?
And if we are the body
Why aren't His feet going?
Why is His love not showing them
There is a way? There is a way?
A traveler is far away from home
He sheds his coat
And quietly sinks into the back row
The weight of their judgmental glances tell him that his chances
Are better out on the road
But if we are the body
Why aren't His arms reaching?
Why aren't His hands healing?
Why aren't His words teaching?
And if we are the body
Why aren't His feet going
Why is His love not showing them
There is a way?
But Jesus paid much too high a price
For us to pick and choose who should come
And we are the body of Christ
But if we are the body
Why aren't His arms reaching?
Why aren't His hands healing?
Why aren't His words teaching?
And if we are the body
Why aren't His feet going?
Why is His love not showing them
There is a way?
If we are the body
Why aren't His arms reaching?
Why aren't His hands healing?
Why aren't His words teaching?
And if we are the body
Why aren't His feet going?
Why is His love not showing them
There is a way? As Jesus is the way
Reminds me of an old Johnny Paycheck song called “The Outlaw’s Prayer”
You know, I worked the Big Packet show in Fort Worth, Saturday night,
We had all day Sunday to rest and relax, before I caught another flight,
So I decided to walk down town an’ get myself a little fresh air.
Before long, I found myself in front of a big church on the corner of the square.
Boy, I could hear that singin’ way out in the street, sure was a beautiful sound.
So I just walked up the steps an’ opened the door an’ started to go inside an’ sit down.
But before I could, a young man walked over to me an said: “Excuse me, Sir”,
“But I can’t let you in with that big black hat, those jeans, that beard an’ long hair.
So I just left, went back outside, sat down on that curb, and I thought to myself:
That’s the house of the Lord. That guy’s got the hell of a nerve.
Tellin’ me I can’t worship anywhere I please.
So right there, in front of that church, I just knelt down on my knees.
I said: “Lord, I know I don’t look like much, but I didn’t think you’d mind.
“I just wanted to be with Your people, Lord: it’s been a long time.
A while ago, a saw a wino over there in the alley, all bent over in tears,
An’ I thought how one stained glass window, from this church, would feed his family for years.
Then there’s those fine cars parked outside: too many for me to count.
Made me think how people walked for days to hear your sermon on the Mount.
Then there’s those fine ladies in the choir, Lord, singin’ like they really love it.
Hell, last night, they were dancin’ on the front row of my show, drinking beer and screamin” “Shove it!”
You know, even John the Baptist wouldn’t be welcome in this place,
With his coat made of camel hair an’ sandals on his feet,
You know, Lord, when you come back to get your children, an take em’ beyond the clouds.
To live forever in heaven with you: well, I’d sure hate to be in this crowd.
You know, Lord, I’m not perfect; some even call me no count.
But I’ll tell you: I believe a man is judged by what’s in his heart, not what’s in his bank account.
So if this is what religion is: a big car, a suit an’ a tie,
Then I might as well forget it Lord, ‘cause I can’t qualify.
Oh by the way, Lord, right before they kicked me out, didn’t I see a picture of You?
With sandals an’ a bear, Believe You had long hair, too.
Well, this is Paycheck, signing off.
I’ll be seeing you, Lord... I hope.
***This event actually did happen to Paycheck. Thus, the song was written....