The Outcasts, both Real and Imagined (Part 4 in the "Normal Is Moving" series)

NEW! Now you can LISTEN to the author read this essay. Click here: Listen to the Scrawling Shepherd read this essay


Poor sinners, outcasts, at the edge of the crowd. Wanting to see, wanting to hear, wanting to draw near, but not daring to risk being noticed, being rejected.

Perhaps he or she is thinking "They know me. They know who I am, what I've done. They'll never let me in. They'll never let me get close. And they are right. I don't deserve it."

But also, they might be thinking "but what He is saying has the ring of truth. He's speaking in an accent of love and of mercy. Maybe He won't turn me away, even if those around Him do."

In the last few weeks since church services have gone ONLINE ONLY, something different and WONDERFUL has been happening. Well really, many different and wonderful things have been and are happening. I haven't noticed ALL of them. If you have noticed any, why don't you go ahead and write about what you've noticed?

The thing I have noticed and want to comment on is this: some people who for any number of reasons have found themselves no longer comfortable or welcome attending a local church are finding their way back by joining ONLINE. Online, they won't be confronted with glares, stares, or suspicious glances. There, they won't be shunned or snubbed. They can see, they can hear, they can move up close to the front safely and without fear because they are present ONLINE ONLY.

Jesus was often surrounded by crowds of people, leaning in intently to see Him and to hear what He might say, and especially to see what miracle He might DO. The word about Him traveled quickly in whatever parts He traveled through. There are quite a few instances recorded in the Gospels where some of these very "outcasts" or "social pariahs" were among those trying to see and hear Jesus.

Sometimes, they were sick people. Lepers, the literal unclean outcasts of their day. They were required by law to keep social distance from healthy people, lest they infect them. Jesus never shunned them or turned away in outrage, disgust, or fear. As far as I can tell, there is no record of Jesus ever encountering a leper and leaving him or her in the same condition as when they first met. (Of course, Jesus was immune to any virus or illness. He didn't have to wear a mask or maintain a safe social distance.)

Once there was a hated tax collector, named Zaccheus. He was not a nice man. He had betrayed his own people, working for the Romans, and further, cheating his countrymen to become wealthy at their expense. Yet he, too, wanted to see this man Jesus for himself, hear what he was saying. He wasn't a very tall person, and couldn't get close enough to see Jesus. Certainly, his neighbors were not willing to make room for him! I can imagine them shouldering him aside, crowding together all the tighter to keep him from getting close. So, a clever man, Zaccheus climbed a tree to be able to see. Not only did Zaccheus see Jesus, but Jesus saw Zaccheus, and called to him by name. Oh, I bet that the "in" crowd didn't like it that Jesus went to visit Zaccheus in his own house! (This story is found in Luke 19:1-10 if you'd like to read it for yourself!)

And the children--don't forget the children! Some parents were wanting Jesus to bless their children--what parent doesn't want that?-- and they were trying to get close to Jesus, but of course, children are supposed to be seen, and not heard, so the disciples, thinking that they were doing a good job of crowd management, tried to shoo them away. Jesus wasn't having it, though. Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.” And he laid his hands on them and went away. (that's from Matthew 19:14-15)

There are other examples, too. Jesus is far more welcoming to the socially underprivileged than most of His followers are. Maybe we have good intentions, such as they are, and maybe we can even cite chapter and verse to justify our opinions and actions. I wonder, though, if Jesus would agree with our attitude toward those that we have judged "undeserving" of His attention. There's this one thing Jesus said that really troubles me sometimes: "Whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him if a great millstone were hung around his neck and he were thrown into the sea." (That's from Mark 9:42, but this saying of Jesus is also recorded by Matthew in 18:6 and Luke in 17:2. Seems like these words made quite an impression on the disciples who heard it "Live" also.)

How does this look today? Those people who are finding their way back to "church", to worship, to the teaching of God's Word, to prayer, and hopefully ultimately to God, are like Zaccheus, or the lepers, or the woman caught in an adulterous act, or even the noisy children. To some, they have no right, no place at the feet of Jesus. But to Jesus? Well, He's spoken quite clearly on that subject. Who really "deserves" to come near to God? Of course we all know that the answer to that question is "NOBODY! Certainly not ME!"

And yet, Jesus has made it possible for any of us, for ALL of us, to draw near to Him. He has taken my unworthiness, my uncleanness, my unfitness, my disease, my contagion, my filth, my sin, and paid for it. "Jesus paid it all. All to Him I owe. Sin had left a crimson stain. He washed it white as snow."

When this time of social distancing at last is at an end, and those of us who have been deprived of our assembling together return together, I'm praying that we come together with enough room for those who have felt unwelcome and unwelcomed. If I am part of the reason that you don't feel welcome or comfortable in church, PLEASE, PLEASE FORGIVE ME! Come with me to the "altar" and let's kneel together in joyful thanks that Jesus has made enough room for all of us.



If you liked this article, perhaps you'll also enjoy reading the previous articles in this "Normal Is Moving" series. You can find them HERE:

Part 1: "Normal Is Moving"
Part 2: "Closing the Distance"
Part 3: "Real Connections Take Real Effort"

When I Finally Get to be "Unpaused," or, I See a Chance...

NEW! Now you can listen to the author read this article here: The Scrawling Shepherd reads "I See a Chance"


Friday, March 27, 2020

Yesterday I posted an article which you may have seen. If not, you can find it here: Why I am On Pause, and Why I am Okay with It.

Today I want to write the article I thought I was going to write yesterday when I sat down to write. I've been thinking about the current circumstance we're sharing: a dramatic response to a critical threat to our health. We've been put "On Pause," as we're calling it in New York. You may have a different name for it: self-quarantine, shelter-in-place, lock-in, or any number of other words or phrases.

I'm a teacher, and this circumstance has dramatically affected my work, and my way of working. We're figuring out how to continue teaching and learning over distance, using technology in most cases. Early into this experience, I began thinking about how this dramatic change will outlast the current crisis. Even when we come crawling out of our metaphorical bunkers, blinking in the bright light of day and looking around to see who else is still standing, we may never again go back to whatever was "normal" just three weeks ago.

And that got me thinking wider still. Churches, like schools, are figuring out what HAS to be included in "church" experience, and what we can do without, even if only temporarily. Our home groups have been reading and discussing Francis Chan's Letters to the Church and his observations about how we've come to expect certain things in our experience of church that aren't really lining up well with what Jesus and His apostles described, designed, and established. It has been challenging, convicting, sometimes embarrassing. But how to fix it? It's almost like we need to start over.

Start over. Huh.

I see a chance here. I see an opportunity to restart. To get a "do over." A Mulligan.

I see a chance to finally, finally, put some distance between the church and that ugly label, that ugly sweater we keep wearing even though nobody likes it, called "hypocrisy." "The church is full of hyprocrites." I've heard it all my life, or at least it seems like I have. And as soon as I try to deny it, to say that "well, it might be true of them, but it's definitely not true of me," I get that all-too-familiar poke of the Holy Spirit's conviction and I have to withdraw my objection, my deflection, and put that ugly, smelly, scratchy sweater back on again.

But I see a chance. I see a chance to take that old mildewy, moldy, scratchy, smelly sweater out to the firepit in my back yard and burn it on a funeral pyre. And once I get it burning in a big, roaring, purifying, consuming fire, let's rummage around and see what other ugly things have been clinging to me that I can also use to feed the Refiner's fire.

I see a chance for a fresh start. A new beginning. A clean slate.

I want to be a different kind of Christian, a different kind of follower. I want to be the kind of follower of Jesus that doesn't attract labels like hypocrite, or judgmental, or exclusive, or prejudiced, or bigoted, or any of the other negative labels that have been attached to Christians in our culture. If I am going to be criticized, let it be because I have been trying to follow the example and the teaching of Christ as shown in God's Word, the Bible. Not legalistically, like the Pharisees of Jesus' day that were the first to carry the label of hypocrite. But lovingly. Let that be my legacy.

I'm Just a Nobody. (This is a live link to a music video by Casting Crowns, with Matthew West.)

It shouldn't have taken a global pandemic to get my attention. There's been a pandemic going already, from the early days of human history. It's transmitted by birth. It's the original STD. It infects EVERYONE. It has a 100% mortality rate. Nobody is immune. No one escapes or avoids it. It reaches everything, everywhere. It's responsible for every other illness. It's the root cause of every war, every act of cruelty. It gives birth to fear, hatred, mistrust, untruth, lust, rebellion, violence, addiction, abuse, poverty, hunger, thirst, and every other awful thing that is a part of the history of our world. It goes by many names, but I call it sin.

We've been dealing it with for so long, we have stopped talking about it, stopped fighting against it. We've found ways to become comfortable with it, to anesthetize ourselves against its worst symptoms, and otherwise ignore it, pretending it isn't lurking there, waiting to kill us. Because it does kill us. All of us.

That's the first truth of the Good News, the Gospel. We are all sinners.

Doesn't really sound like very good news. And by itself, it isn't. The good part starts with point #2: God loves us. Even while we were still sinners, God loved us, and gave His Only Begotten Son do die for us.

Jesus Christ is the Cure for this fatal disease! Look unto Him, all you to the ends of the earth, and be saved! Isaiah 45:22.

I see a Chance. Do you see what I see? Come stand next to me. Let's see if we can take this chance together. Maybe we can do it better, together, this time.