She was a devout Christian, a devoted church-goer and normally possessed a gentle spirit. But I remember the day she came to the church office in anger.
The Sunday previous we had some international guests from a local university in worship. Their skin color wasn’t the same as ours, and this lady was upset. She suggested I’d invited them to force the church into confrontation. She said I’d given an unusually fervent invitation at the conclusion of the service in order to bring them forward to membership.
I explained I met the students at the same time everyone else did, and I hoped I gave a fervent invitation every Sunday.
I thought, but didn’t say, that I’m not beyond challenging the church, but I’ve never challenged the church secretly or anonymously.
But she would not be deterred. I assured her of my love for her and her family, but we found no resolution that day.
Southern writer/theologian Will Campbell, who wrote “Brother To A Dragonfly” in 1977, argued the Southern pastor lived with “moral contradictions.”
“You love the people, but you chafe at the racism,” he said.
Granted, this confrontation was 30 years ago, and, fortunately, the landscape is different.
But back to the angry lady. She had a unique ministry. She always had a home group of young ladies with her for six or eight weeks of discipleship study. They learned scripture memorization and daily prayer. They grew, and they loved her. But she believed our church should be confined to one ethnicity, even though we taught our children to sing, “Red and yellow, black and white; they are precious in his sight.”
I often think of this story and how we Christians can fall short in our faith— “moral contradictions,” as Campbell said.
Jesus contended with the religious leaders of his day when he healed a blind man by the pool of Siloam. And he had the audacity to heal on the Sabbath! He chastised the religious leaders who confronted him. They were blind, too, he said, though not physically. They had a noble calling but had degenerated into a self-righteous group of critics.
Someone called them the “blanket committee” who tried to put out the fires of revival Jesus lit.
But I can’t be too hard on the Pharisees, or this lady, since I, too, can be optically challenged. I need the Great Physician to put salve on my spiritual eyes, and I need to go to Siloam and wash.
Two things must be present if worship is to be effective. We must confess our sin and plead for God’s mercy. And we must open our eyes, asking him to help us see his will more clearly.
