FROM THE DESK OF BROTHER PASTOR

Whosoever

 T'was the night before Jesus came, and all through the house, not a person prayed, not even my spouse.  The Bible was left on the shelf without care, for no one thought Jesus would come there.  The children dressed and crawled into bed, not once kneeling or bowing their head; and mom in the rocking chair with a beer on her lap, watched Jay Leno as I took a nap.

When out of the east there raised such a clatter, I sprang to my feet to see what is the matter.  Away to the window I flew like a flash, tore open the shutters, and raised the sash; when what to my wondering eyes should appear: angels proclaiming, Jesus is here!

The light of his face made me cover my head.  Was Jesus returning just as he'd said?  And though I possess wisdom and wealth, I cry when I see him in spite of myself.  In the book of life, he holds in his hand, is written the name of every saved woman and man.  He speaks not a word as he searches for my name.  When he says:  "Its not here," my head hangs in shame.  The people whose names had been written in love, he gathered to take to heaven above.  With those who were ready, he rose without a sound, and left the others standing around.

I fell to my knees; but it was too late.  I'd waited too long and sealed my fate.  I stood and I cried as they rose out of sight.  "Oh, if only I'd known this was the night!"

However, while this was just a bad dream, in real life it never occurred to me that I would be someone Jesus would want to see.  After all, on people like me, the church seldom called.  People like me are different, living our lives as single parents; different, living our lives in wheel chairs; different, living our lives as gay couples; different, living our lives as immigrants; different, living our lives as the homeless; different, living lives as persons with HIV/AIDS.   As perfect people worship under the church steeple, strangers like me wallow in obscurity.  It never occurred to me that I would be someone Jesus would want to see.  For after all, on people like me, the church seldom called.

But somewhere, I read that God so loved the world that God gave God's only begotten son that whosoever believes in him shall have life, and have it eternally.  My faith says "whosoever" includes me.  In other words, different is not deficient!  Jesus loves me just as much as Jesus loves persons who seem to have it all together.

In spite of my social location, because I believe in Jesus, I, too, can have eternal life.  I, too, have a place at the table of fellowship.  A seat in church is mine, not because of my social status, but mine by the grace of God.

And even though I'm a late arrival, God still gives me an equal seat at the table of life.  As for those perfect people in church, Paul says "we all sin and fall short" of God's Glory.

As the people of God, in the way we walk and talk, let us communicate the message of radical inclusiveness:  no matter who you are, or where you are on life's journey, you're welcome here in Christ's church.  Jesus turns no one away, and neither do we!

As we start the New Year, we are reminded that today is the first day of the rest of our lives.

God is good, all the time!

                  Brother Pastor Nathan Angelo Harris

                   Excerpted from Sermon of December 3, 2006