by Debbie Decker
California, USA
Recently, we had a baptism at church. Not an unusual occurrence, but, as is typical of a baptism, we had lots of guests, all dressed up in fancy hats and ties.
My church is a real “churchy” church: smells and bells, stained glass windows, candles, pipe organ, the whole ecclesiastical works. We worship together in a traditional way and love the deep mysteries of spiritual life. However, the congregation tends to be, um, “very comfortable” in the pews.
Kids amble up the aisle to see what’s up with the organist (his is the most interesting job there), or stand at the steps up at the rail to say hello to friends. Teenagers cluster in the back, trying not to be seen, wearing typical teenager duds. You may see someone in their Sunday best, and others dressed for the beach. For all we know, our pastor celebrates the service barefoot under her beautiful brocade vestments.
For this particular baptismal service, my friend Bob was running late and came into church after the service had started. I turned to see him coming down the aisle in his usual attire — whatever was clean that morning. Bob pours concrete for a living and doesn’t trouble himself to distinguish between work clothes and church clothes.
Bob’s hair was unruly, he was sunburnt, his hands were rough, and his clothes were those of a man who works hard for a living. The looks on our guests’ faces as Bob made his way down the aisle were something to see.
The “Omigosh, a homeless person in church,” expression. The “What if he speaks to me and talks all crazy?” expression. Some faces reflected the scariest thought of all: “I should greet him, but I’m not getting too close to a deranged-looking homeless person.”
The internal struggle between people’s comfortable lives and the question of how to respond to someone dressed like Bob was both comical and pathetic. Eventually, our guests realized that Bob is a beloved member of the congregation.
Of course, we all have to deal with the same emotions. We struggle to respond to people who appear different from ourselves. How do we respond respectfully? How can we understand their perspective without asking rude or intrusive questions?
When I told Bob what I had observed, he enjoyed a laugh at the discomfort he’d caused. He hadn’t considered it, but was cheered by my idea that he could help others adjust preconceived notions about first impressions simply by being himself.
Bob is comfortable enough to come to church dressed like a homeless person. Bob’s ministry among us is not necessarily to comfort the afflicted, but to afflict the comfortable.
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Thanks for re-running that one! I haven’t seen Bob at church lately – he’s struggling with some health issues. But I see his wife quite often. I think we need much more of “how to respond respectfully” these days.
Have a blessed day.
Our Lord was a carpenter and ate with sinners. His first followers where fisherman. I don’t know about your pastor but in one version of the story when Christ sent out the apostles to preach he told them to take nothing with them, not even to wear sandals. Something to keep in mind.
Yes, if Jesus had walked in dressed as a carpenter, he might have received the same sort of looks and whispers.
This is one of my favourites for a long time.
Three reasons.
1) This sounds like a proper church to me, where people are there for the right reason, not just to be seen to good. Showy piety lacks conviction.
2) I’m delighted that the poster can imagine their pastor barefoot under the fancy vestments. There used to be a Methodist minister down in Cornwall who wore jeans and t-shirt under his cassock, with a small whiskey flask and a packet of Capstan full strength cigarettes in his back pockets. And a mobile phone in case the local mental hospital called him . He had a way of calming even the most troubled souls, and sometimes it would be for the last rites. If the phone went the service was suspended. If he wasn’t back in half an hour the baptism or whatever would have to be rescheduled. I always felt he would have been a good man even without his religion.
3) And the last sentence says it all. Bob is comfortable enough to come to church dressed like a homeless person. Bob’s ministry among us is not necessarily to comfort the afflicted, but to afflict the comfortable.
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