Changed

Blind Pharisee! First clean the inside of the cup and dish, and then the outside also will be clean. Matthew 23:26 NIV

He came in late and sat down with no apologies. Stunned, my eyes were immediately drawn to the large skull and crossbones tattooed prominently on the back of his neck. Next I took in the black knit stocking cap on top of his head. It stood out on a spring day with temperatures in the seventies. I waited for him to remove it, but somewhere deep within, I knew he wouldn’t. I thought about the time it took me to pick out the skirt I was wearing and glanced at his slick basketball shorts and wondered if he took any time at all. The t-shirt he wore was thin and I could see the tank top undershirt beneath.

Lost in my thoughts, I envisioned myself leaning forward to tap him on the shoulder. “Excuse me,” I would say, “How about taking off that hat in the Lord’s house.” In another version, I imagined snatching it off of his head to plop it in his lap. “Not in here,” I would utter looking down my nose.

Then somewhere from deep within, I could here myself saying, “Meet them where they are…” I’ve been writing a book about changing the world by meeting the needs of the people around us. Passionately, I’ve shared how we can’t put expectations on people who don’t know the saving power of Christ. We have to show them who Christ is by our own actions.

Gently, I removed my garment of haughtiness and placed it at the cross. “Don’t let me be a Pharisee,” I whispered so only He could hear.

Now much lighter, I stood and lifted my hands in praise, while the young man with the tattooed neck sat slumped in his seat defeated.

The choir swelled with the lyrics:
This, the pow’r of the cross:
Christ became sin for us;
Took the blame, bore the wrath—
We stand forgiven at the cross.

“Oh, Lord,” I prayed, “Please let this boy come to know the power of the Cross. I may never see him again, but Lord I lift him to You. Break down walls, and let something he hears today remain for a lifetime. I don’t know the details of his life, but You do, O Lord. And, please, oh please, let me look at people through Your eyes. We are all Your children. Forgive my stiff neck and help me to meet people where they are.”

When the service ended, we all walked back into our lives. Changed.