A Christmas Story: Do You See What I See?

 A Christmas Story:

Do You See What I See?

The Goodness of a Church Revealed

    I stand hesitantly and nervously at the doors of the church on that Christmas Eve, reluctant to step inside. 

    What was I thinking? I don't belong here. 

    The traffic had caused me to be a little late, so I walk in alone without a chance of just "blending in."

    I take a deep breath. I sigh and tug the door open. A stranger greets me with a smile and hands a paper to me. I clutch it and take in my surroundings.

    I hear the singing of a somewhat familiar hymn echoing from the main sanctuary. I follow the music.

    The seats in the back look pretty full, and at first glance, I don't see one that I can slip into unnoticed. I continue to glance around, and I actually almost consider leaving when I see a doorway that leads to some stairs.

    I take a chance and quietly take the stairs and find an empty balcony area.

What a relief! I can technically tell my parents I attended church this Christmas, and I can even relay details of the sermon, but I can take it all in by myself. I don't have to see the "look" from the regular church-goers. I start to relax as the song comes to an end and the music fades. I settle into my seat for the message.

    The message is from Romans. I think back to my Sunday school days, now far in my past, and I can't recall Romans. I do remember Daniel and the lions, David and the slingshot, and Jonah and the whale. The ark...I remember the building of an ark and animals going in two by two. But Romans? I don't remember anything about Romans.

    I try to focus on the words, but my mind wanders as I begin to look around at the congregation sitting almost shoulder to shoulder below me. The view from the balcony allows a unique angle. I examine the postures and the body language. I scrutinize the clothing and the demeanor of the "family groups." Everyone appears happy and at peace in their easy lives.

    As I explore the congregation, the past few years of my life come to mind. I've made so many mistakes. Costly mistakes. I've hurt myself and others in so many ways...I begin to feel more uncomfortable.

    I can't explain the discomfort, but I suddenly feel guilty, unworthy, and unwelcome. As I realize that I don't fit with these people, my eyes start to tear up, and I begin to gather my things to go.

    Someone that I hadn't noticed before had slipped into the pew next to me. He gives me a kind look and a nod. I sigh and look back down at the congregation. The pastor's words are echoing around me, and I try again to tune in to what is being said, "This righteousness is given through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe. There is no difference between Jew and Gentile, for all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God, and all are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus."

    I shake my head. "...redemption that came by Christ Jesus..." This isn't about me. I look longingly down at the congregation again. This is about those people, the good people in the world. These good people making good choices and having good lives. This is not about me. This is not for me. My eyes well up again. I hang my head and sniffle. 

      The figure next to me, nudges me, and softly says, "Look again. Do you see what I see?"

This time as I look down at the clusters of people, all of those family groups, I see something appearing across the shoulders of each member of the congregation. The images come into focus, and I am just able to squint and make out the images as words appearing across the backs of the individuals.

    Across one gentleman's shoulders I read Glutton; the woman next to him has the word Envy across her back. I see Addict across the shoulders of several in the congregation, ranging from the elderly to even a young boy who couldn't be more than ten who is currently engrossed in a video game on a cellphone.

    I continue reading the labels and trying to understand: Pride. Idolatry. Thief. Murder. Bitterness. Sexually Immoral. Anger. Greed. Liar. Alcoholic. Each person has at least one of these strange labels. Even the family groups that I thought had such perfect lives have labels. Old and young. Adultery. Gossip. Wicked. Sluggard. Gambler. Selfish Ambition. Slander. I shake my head in confusion and disbelief. 

    I turn to the figure next to me for an explanation, and as his kind eyes meet mine, he softly says, "Do you still think that you don't belong?"

    Stunned that this stranger could read my thoughts, I shift in my seat. "Umm...but I--" I begin, hesitant to reveal the details of my own story.

    "For all have sinned," the stranger interrupts me, "and have fallen short of the glory of God. This Scripture is accurate and applies to all."

    I look down at my hands, take a deep breath, and as the confidence in me builds, I look up again to see the labels have disappeared. Stunned, I turn back to the stranger for an explanation.

    "Almighty God doesn't actually 'label' our sins; that was revealed for your benefit. You see, the words spoken earlier are true, and are straight from the Almighty: 'all have sinned,' all." He lifts my chin with a scarred hand. looks deep into my eyes, and says, "All." After a brief pause he adds, "I come that they--and you--may have life and have it abundantly."

    I look back over the congregation, and while they haven't moved or really changed at all, I see each of them very differently. I didn't remember any of the specific labels that had appeared, well, except for the boy still busy with his cellphone. As I try to look again at the faces when folks turn, the looks I had seen before appear so different now. They each seem familiar somehow, and less threatening and judgmental. They seem--just like me.

    I had assumed that everyone was full of goodness but me. I had assumed that God's goodness was for them, and not for me. I had assumed that I didn't belong amidst the goodness around me. The actual goodness within that church that Christmas Eve was the goodness revealed in the Good News of Jesus Christ.

    My visit to the church that Christmas Eve and the words of a stranger in church that day revealed to me that I was right where I belonged. That church was just like any church, and I was surrounded by people who belonged alongside me.

While this Christmas Eve did momentarily reveal some surprising labels,

it ultimately revealed to me the goodness of God within a church.

Almighty God, Great Mystery, Thank you for Jesus. Help me to realize that your grace applies to all and that I am included in all. Help me to ignore the world's labels and seek your righteousness. In Jesus' Name. Amen.