Of Pharisees, Drunks And Convicts
(Sample Chapter)
Ben was a prisoner who had led a shameful life, but in the dark, dank and ‘God forsaken’ dungeon of his prison cell in the North of Ireland he met Jesus – and his life was forever changed. As often happens in such circumstances Ben’s passion and enthusiasm spilled out all over the place. Soon he was leading a Bible study group, and some prison officers, struck by the genuine transformation in the lives of these ‘social outcasts’ came to know the same Jesus and their lives were changed too.
In due course, Ben had served his sentence and was released, and he couldn’t wait to get to church; surely the joy and excitement of praising, worshipping and learning more about his newfound Master would be at least as dynamic on the outside as it had been in the glorious freedom of his cage. So, all togged out in his new suit, spit-and-polish shoes and crisp white shirt, he strode confidently into the little church building where he had attended Sunday school as a boy.
But what Ben hadn’t accounted for was the fact that his reputation as a gang leader had gone before him. Innocently he sat right at the front, so happy to be with his brothers and sisters, but in that community you weren’t allowed to sit at the front. OK, you might be accepted by Jesus, but you also had to be accepted by the leaders too – and the leaders were more cautious than their Master, so it took some time. Ben was asked to sit at the back. He couldn’t work it out, and the strange looks he was getting from some of the ‘dear old saints’ confused him.
When the service was over, one of the elders, a gentle, silver-haired old Pharisee took him to the side and suggested that given his background and connections in the locality, it might be better for all concerned if he didn’t come back, ‘…at least for a while.’ My friend Martin who led Ben to Christ takes up the story; ‘Off he went up the street, almost skipping with delight. Why was he not broken hearted and devastated by disappointment? Such an awful thing to have happened. “Oh I’m happy,” declared Ben. “I don’t want to be anywhere where Jesus isn’t.”’
Not all churches are like that of course, neither are there many like the one I went to in Belfast a while ago. About halfway through the rather informal proceedings a drunk stumbled into the church building, reeking of stale smoke, booze and with dried vomit on his heavy overcoat. And what do you think happened? Almost immediately one of the elders jumped to his feet, laid a kindly arm on the man’s shoulder and said, ‘Here, come and sit beside me,’ – and there they sat until the unlikely visitor decided it was time to go and have another cigarette. I’ve got to know some of the folk in that church and I honestly think that if he’d pulled out a pack of cigarettes, two or three of those around him might have offered him a light!
But here’s the challenge, and it’s one worth seriously facing up to if you’re finding your Christian life more than a little dry and your church activities failing to engage in any meaningful way with the real world. What would have happened if Ben, or that old drunk had stumbled into your church, disturbing the tidy, predictable routine? The answer to that question will determine whether or not Jesus is there. And if he’s not, maybe you’ve some thinking to do.
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