THE CHURCH VISITOR
(edited by David Brollier)
It was a beautiful Sunday morning. People were filling the church to its fullest capacity!
As they entered, each were given a bulletin filled with announcements, topic of today's sermon, what songs they would sing
and who to pray for.
At the end of the line stood a tall, lanky young man. He wore a black T-shirt, black pants
and boots. His nails were painted dark purple, which matched his lips. His face was powdered white and his hair was the kind
of black you seem to only get from a spray can. Not only did he have a number of pierced ear rings, but his nose was pierced
as well. His skin was smooth. His blue eyes sharp, but wary.
The usher glared at the young man and said, “Uh, I'm sorry sir, but I'm afraid we can't
let you in. You will distract the congregation and we don't allow anyone to disrupt our service. I'm afraid you'll have to
leave.”
The young man looked down at himself and with a knowing look on his face, he shoved his hands
into his pockets and turned to leave. He was sad as he loved to hear the choir sing praises to the Lord. He loved to watch
the little children get up in front of the church to sing their little songs. He carried in his pocket a small worn out Bible
and loved to see if the minister preached a passage from the Bible that the young man had underlined. He was respectful enough
and didn't want to cause any commotion, so he hung down his head and walked back down the steps of the big brick church.
He sat down on the brick wall near the edge of the church yard and strained to listen through
closed doors and windows to the singing going on in the church. Oh how he wished he could be inside with all the others.
A few minutes had passed by when all of a sudden another younger man came up behind him and
sat down near him. He asked the first what he was doing. He answered, “I was going to go to church today, but they thought
my appearance would disrupt their service. Sorry, I didn't introduce myself. My name is George.”
The two gentlemen shook hands and George couldn't help but notice that this man had long hair
like his. He wore a piece of cloth draped over his body tied with a royal purple sash. He had sandals upon his feet, now covered
with dust and dirt.
The stranger reached out to touch George's shoulder and said, “Hello, George, don't feel
bad because they won't let you in. My name is Jesus, and I've been trying to get into this same church for years, and they
won't let me in either.”
(This story I received as an email and have changed it slightly to fit this website.
The message, either way you look at it, is the same)
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