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attending church
It was Sunday morning.
One of those beautiful crisp clear winters
morning that just gets your heart pumping; and Bill’s
heart was pumping.
Bill was excited - very excited – extremely
excited. You see, for the first time in a long
time he was excited about life and all the possibilities
– he saw a future. His excitement was based on
the fact that for the first time in his 21 years of life
he decided to go to church - yup, that's right he was
going to go to church. He made the decision after
a long conversation with his younger sister Sue, who
moved away to attend a small Midwest College just a year
ago, while Bill stayed home to finish his degree.
Now Sue was not a
"religious" person - in fact, she seldom
attends a “church.”
She got connected with a group at church who
gathered together on Sunday nights at the Student Union
for study and song. But Bill was having a hard
time with life - divorce, school and job problems - and
she felt that maybe church would help him "get on
track." You know, give him a "spiritual
shot in the soul" and develop a solid path to walk.
It was with that direction, that motivation - a desire
for change in his life, he woke-up early, put on his
best clothes - a ripped pair of jeans and a blink 182
t-shirt he got the last time the band was in town –
and it was a great show.
He was not sure what
church to attend, so two days before he spent time
looking for a church in the yellow pages, and making
calls – he was off Friday mornings and could spent
time calling and talking with the different Pastors.
As he looked in the phone book he was amazed at all the
churches – and all the different groups of churches.
He notices 12 different “Baptist” church
headings and 5 different “Presbyterian” church
headings and that was just the beginning.
He had no idea what any of it meant, so he set
forth his criteria - it needed to be close to home - the
closer the better. You see, Bill was on a health
kick and rode a bike everywhere he could - and why not
ride it to church. After a short search he found
it - the perfect church, just a few blocks away.
It had a cool ad, and – in big red letters,
“ALL ARE WELCOME.”
He called the church to see what was happening,
and if he could speak with the Pastor, but was met with
an answer machine giving service times and directions
– he wrote down the information, ready for Sunday.
He left early Sunday
morning; he did not want to be late; his heart was
pounding with the excitement of a boy on his first date.
As he came around the corner, and into the parking lot,
he was pleased to see so many people walking into the
church. He started to feel real good about his
decision to explore the Christian faith. You see,
Bill (like his sister) was not raised in a
"Christian" home.
While Sue had started to look into God and
Christianity while at College, Bill didn’t. He
had no idea what "Christianity" or
"church" was all about. Oh, he had heard
the stories - but who believes stories, nothing could be
that bad. Besides, as he approached the building
all he saw was people smiling at each other, shaking
hands and embracing each other - Bill wanted to be part
of that, Bill needed to be part of that, and he could
hardly wait to get in and get to know people. Bill
needed healing, and this seemed to be the place.
As Bill approached the
doors of the church he noticed that people were talking,
and walking around him - but not to him. No one
said anything to him. As he started in a man with
a tag “Hi, I’m Deacon Jones” met him. The
man was friendly and smiling as he asked, "Can I
help you?" Bill replied, "I want to come
in and see what it's all about." The man
smiled and gave Bill a piece of paper and directed him
to the back of the church. Bill was confused, he
wanted to sit a little closer, but he was not going to
question the setting, after all he had never done this
before.
As Bill sat, looking
around trying to figure out what was happening, people
just walked by, not speaking to him.
When people did talk with him they usually asked
if he had been in the church for a long time – and
when he mentioned that he was a visitor and this was his
first time, people just walked away.
People would say “Hi” with a fake smile, and
as soon as they saw someone else they would move along
to others – he felt like he was in the middle of a
used car salesmen convention.
By the end of the service, he had made his mind
up not to return, in fact he was not even interested in
perusing the faith.
He left the parking lot
and felt overwhelmed by emotion. So overwhelmed
that he pulled over to the side and sat on the corner,
with his head hanging down, crying. As he was
crying, people from the church who were heading to their
cars paid no attention to him.
They walked by saying and doing nothing.
As Bill was pulling himself together, and getting
ready to get up and go, s kind and gentle man came along
side and asked what the problem was, and if he could
help. Bill looked at the man, and wiping the tears
from his eyes he said, "I just tried to get into
the church and they won't let me in." The man
smiled, and putting his arms around Bill to comfort him
he said, "I understand. I have been trying to
get into the church for 2,000 years and they won't let
me in either."
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