This morning in church, one of our pastors gave us a familiar reminder from Scripture – all are welcome into the body of Christ. Alluding to Luke 15, he reminded us all that no matter what you’ve done, where you’ve been or what you have gone through, Jesus invites you to be with Him. At the end of each of the parables in this chapter there is rejoicing over finding that which was lost. In the parable of the prodigal son we see rejoicing over the sinner who has come back to the father. All are welcome to the party. Like the angels in heaven, let’s rejoice over sinners coming to the Lord. Don’t let your past, your addictions, or poor decisions or anything else hinder you from this party, so to speak.
That’s the great news of the gospel. The blood of Christ cleanses us from all sin. Anyone who will confess their sin can experience the faithfulness and justice of our Lord and will be cleansed from all unrighteousness (I John 1:9). Anyone who is weary can come and cast their great burdens upon the Lord (Matthew 11:28), much like Christian from the classic book, Pilgrim’s Progress. Of course we can do this, because – wait for it – He CARES about YOU (I Petter 5:7). Not only does God love you, like He does with everyone else in a general way – but he actually cares about you in particular and wants you to talk about and give Him what is bothering you most. What an incredible God we have.
But, in the midst of this reminder, I felt the Lord directing my thoughts elsewhere. I’ve been in church most of my life. There’s never been a time I have denied Christ or denied the existence of God. I’ve never done drugs. I’ve never been drunk. The truth is, while I am a great sinner – my sins are not the spectacular ones that comprise the fascinating testimonies we all love to hear. I’m a sinner of a different sort.
Here’s the truth – I’m old. I have come to embrace the fact that I am a curmudgeon. Many of my sentences are prefaced with the phrase, “Kids these days…” I don’t enjoy modern music and am not able to recognize the stars of most of the movies currently hitting the big screen. I haven’t yelled at kids riding their bikes on my lawn yet, but I have been confused by new technology more times than I would care to admit.
Of course, this mindset has crept into my spiritual life. I long for the day when we used to sing hymns in church – only hymns. Hymns with five million verses to them (even though we only sing the first, third and last stanzas). For that matter – forget projections – give me a hymnal. I like things the way they used to be. It feels weird for me to lift my hands in praise during a particularly moving worship song. My hands are just fine in my pockets, thank you. I want my sermons long, in-depth and maybe a bit dry. I even find myself wanting to sit in a pew once again. Oh, and none of this charismatic stuff. If the Reformers didn’t say it in the 1500’s – I probably don’t need to hear about it today… Forget about skinny jeans, any attempt to be cool/relevant, or dismissing before noon. Don’t even get me started about Saturday evening services…
Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of valid criticisms about the modern church. Many of these are well-grounded in Scripture and deserve your attention and thought. But if I am honest, most of my problems are not grounded not in the Word, but in my security – or insecurity as the case may be. As a typical church-goer, I like tradition. While I’m very quick to judge the Catholic Church for lifting tradition to the same level as Holy Scripture (and I’m sola scriptura all the way – and for good reason), I also am quick to raise my own personal preferences and “the way we’ve always done it” to an unhealthy level of importance.
Even in my own church, I find myself often uncomfortable with some of these things. I am a church curmudgeon. But, more than that, I am an older brother. Let me return back to Luke 15. While we are right to focus on the joy of the prodigal returning, there’s more to the story. The penitent rebel who made a mess of his life was not the only one invited to the party. In the midst of all the rejoicing – there was someone missing. The older brother was noticeably not at the party. The father would head out into the field to find his other son complaining about all the ruckus being made. The kid actually had a good point. He wasn’t necessarily wrong about his lot in life. For many years he labored faithfully without reward or recognition. But he was missing the bigger picture. His pride prevented him from sharing the heart of his father. As a brother, he should be rejoicing as well. But he was too focused on himself and missed out on the joy he could have been experiencing.
Here is where I begin to feel convicted. Many of my complaints are valid, but I am guilty of missing the bigger picture. The body of Christ consists of more than just people who think like or have the same background as me. While I am certainly not willing to compromise the gospel or any single verse of Scripture, I need to thaw out my heart and think of my other brothers and sisters more than my mere preferences. Instead of being the old curmudgeon set in my ways, I must be able to move past my own experience and embrace what the Lord is doing all around me – even if that means taking my hands out of my pockets.
I tend to be overly skeptical of anything different from what I’m used to. I am often guilty of a bad attitude and an unwillingness to leave a comfort zone of my own building. Yes, I’m an old grouch. But here’s the great news – the gospel is for me as well. I still have an invitation to the party. Just as the father in the parable was not content to have a party without the older brother, the Father still wants me in His kingdom. There is room in the body of Christ for a person like me. I am welcome. He wants me there. Warts and all, the church needs people like me. The truth is – I need them as well. I need to be around skinny-jean-wearing cool kids who talk about the Holy Spirit more than I’m accustomed to and sing worship songs that might be more emotional than I want. I need them and they need me.
All are welcomed around the table of Jesus. If you have made a mess of your life, come and eat. If you are an utter failure, come and eat. There is an invitation for the drunk, the glutton, the whore, the idolater and pridefully arrogant people like me. Come, join the party.
The Thompsonian Times 