At that time, I was absolutely clueless of the crime that I had committed. Nevertheless, the choir director’s contorted face resounded of disappointment…. With nowhere to run, I braced myself for the inevitable. I was in for the lecture of a lifetime.
My initial reaction was nausea… then the nausea was followed by deep sorrow…. My heart hurt for this young man. I’m almost sure that he was completely blind-sighted by the backlash caused by his shirt. I’m positive that all he wanted to do was share the gospel. Instead, he was tar and feathered by two bitter crows.
“Hey John,” he said, “You get picked on a lot, at school, don’t you?” For a moment I paused. I wasn’t sure how I wanted to answer his question. If I chose to be honest, maybe he’d show some compassion. But in my fourteen years of living, I came to understand that compassion was not an adverb that was commonly used to describe teenage boys. If one existed, he would surely have to be placed on an endangered species list.
I rehearsed a handful of responses as I walked toward their car. Although I didn’t know them, I was certain that they were going to ask me for money. Lately I had been approached by a number of transients asking for help. Rather than constantly giving money, I made a practice of keeping snacks in my car to give to give to those who were hungry. But honestly, I found this to be tiresome, and was no longer doing it with a joyful heart.
it is every believer’s liturgical nightmare to lose their elements while partaking in this sacred sacrament. Sadly, this is exactly what happened to me, this last Sunday, as my communion wafer slipped out of my hands and rolled across the auditorium
In my failures I always encounter grace. Grace changes my outlook. It causes me to renounce any temptation to assume that I am better than others, and it inspires me to demonstrate grace as well.