All Are Welcome
For you are not a God who is pleased
with wickedness; with you, evil people are not welcome. – Psalm 5:4
She was pushing every one of my buttons. I struggled
for patience. I wanted to be welcoming. I wanted to be inclusive. I wanted to
be kind.
Later, I struggled with my own response to this woman.
It was the first time I’d seen her at church. It was her first time in our
Sunday school class. I am usually glad to have anyone join us. We have so many
who have come from brokenness, myself included. All are welcome. So why did I
respond so differently to this woman?
It took me much of the afternoon until I finally
realized what it was. I was shocked. I usually pick up quickly on such things.
My only excuse is that I wasn’t expecting to find it in church. I certainly
wasn’t expecting to see it in a Sunday school classroom.
She was high. I don’t know her story. Her body could
have been filled with prescription drugs. Or maybe it was something illegal. I
don’t want to judge her based on the condition of her mouth, which is a signal
for someone who has or was a meth addict. But her body language was so
obviously that of someone who was on drugs.
My ability to read body language is both a blessing
and a curse. It causes me to see the real meaning behind words. It helps me to
understand when someone is hurting, even as they protest that they are fine. But
it also causes me to see when someone isn’t being who they’re proclaiming to
be.
I reminded myself again and again, in prayer and
thought, that she is God’s child. God loves her just as much as He loves me and
every other person in that class and in that church. But it’s so hard to come
face to face with someone in the throes of addiction.
As I said, our class is filled with broken people. I’m
sure that’s why someone led her to this class. We are a group of misfits, if
you will. We are people who understand heartache and addiction and depression.
We are a people who understand grief and being alone and that makes us more
compassionate, more welcoming, more forgiving. People who have walked through a
tough valley or two truly understand what it means to be saved by grace.
I struggled with this. How can I reject, even if only
in my heart, someone God loves? My heart, of course, is where it matters. What
does that say about me? What does that say about my faith? Do you understand
what I’m saying? Have you been there? Have you struggled to love someone as
Jesus does? Have you struggled to welcome someone who is in the throes of
addiction?
This was different for me. I have gladly welcomed
those who are homeless, even when their own choices led them to that place. I
have opened my arms to those who are in recovery for addiction, for anger, for
brokenness. But I seem to have no tolerance for someone who shows up, disrupts
the class (and, yes, she was disruptive), and thinks it’s okay.
I don’t know if she’ll be back. I won’t turn her away
if she comes. Jesus wouldn’t do that and I won’t either. But I will alert our
security team, many of whom are also in law enforcement. I will make sure her
movements are monitored. My first priority is to love like Jesus but that means
making sure the children in our church are safe.
God welcomes us all. He loves every person, no matter
what their circumstances. And, certainly, it’s okay to bring your brokenness to
the body of Christ. But it’s not okay to be high on drugs. It’s not okay to
show up drunk. If you need help, we’ll help you. We’ll love you. But we won’t
enable you. We won’t tell you it’s okay to be disruptive because you’re too
high to function.
There’s a time and place for everything. Church isn’t
where you come to feed your addictions and pretend no one notices. It’s where
we all come to heal. It’s your choice. But when you bring that into our midst,
it becomes ours.
