Yesterday, morning I wept.

I wept because my heart was so full of sadness and a sense of tragedy.

I was listening to the sermon online that had been preached at my local church this past Sunday because I wasn't in attendance.  Around halfway through, the pastor said he was going to tell the congregation why he was wearing jeans.  He had been teaching from Colossians 2:16-23 and discussing how regulations from the world, regulations that people have tacked on to God's law and then imposed arrogantly on others have an appearance of wisdom but actually lack any value (in the pursuit of righteousness).

He said that in Baptist circles, the biggest such hang-up is probably legalism.

He told the congregation that the church had received a letter this week from a visitor who had been told by one of our congregants that they probably shouldn't enter the auditorium because they were wearing jeans.

I froze.

I literally froze and sat there unbelieving and horrified.  I couldn't believe it.


I'm glad the visitor wrote to say something and I'm glad the pastor wore jeans because if there was ever a time to buck social expectations to make a point, THIS was it.

I've actually wondered about whether this might happen at the church I attend.  I felt so ashamed at the time to be associated with this church.  (I remembered that I'm not perfect and not better but at the time I felt deep shame.)


The pastor sensibly, wisely jumped out of Colossians and headed to James who is more explicit:

My brothers, as believers in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ, don’t show favoritism.  Suppose a man comes into your meeting wearing a gold ring and fine clothes, and a poor man in shabby clothes also comes in. If you show special attention to the man wearing fine clothes and say, “Here’s a good seat for you,” but say to the poor man, “You stand there” or “Sit on the floor by my feet,” have you not discriminated among yourselves and become judges with evil thoughts? (2:1-4)


What was done to that person is appalling and obscene and devastating.  It's disgusting.

When I snapped out of my stupor I paused the sermon to finish something else I was doing and while working on what ever other task it was, the sadness grew and grew.  I was trying to ask God to tell me what to do at this weird crossroads (How do I respond?  What is helpful? How do I insure that I never do this? In what ways have I already done this?) but I couldn't get many words out before tears started coming.

I don't cry easily and I don't cry quickly.  This was unprecedented.


I'm so happy the pastor addressed it promptly and in a sermon so he could speak to the entire congregation.  It's relevant!  Part of his job is to correct!  He spoke calmly but there was a definite undercurrent of well-placed anger.  His statement "This must never happen again" was so perfectly measured and uncompromising that I think it made the discussion as serious as it could possibly be.


In addition to citing James, he pointed out that there is a flaw in some Christians' reasoning that we should dress our best because we're presenting ourselves before a King (the King above all kings, in fact).  It's true that He has the most authority and deserves the most respect - like a King of kings - however that is ONE image of God.  God is also a shepherd.  "Would you dress up in a suit and tie if you were going to meet a shepherd?" he asked.  God is also a Father.  The logic doesn't fly.  Using one image of God to control people and justify a weird rule about clothing is not right.


I cried hard because someone (an anyone) was mistreated and robbed of a chance to hear the Gospel or even to meet Christ. In fact, it was an utter contradiction of the Gospel itself.


It was wonderful how the end of the sermon took hopelessness out of the picture.  There is grace for all and we can learn from this.



Listen to the sermon here.