A Sheep with a Shepherd

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I went to church on Sunday.

I haven't attended church for months.

I left my former church because my pastors were flippant about God's Word. They read Matthew Vine's book, "God and the Gay Christian," and other books, which make the case that God is not opposed to homosexuality. They attended a weekend conference hosted by The Reformation Project. They visited my small group and said, we are not entirely convinced being homosexual is sinful, or that same-sex marriage is at odds with God's Word.

And so I left, but, in reality, they left me first.

I am the faithful follower of Christ who reads God's Words to us and who treasures them. I am the member of the flock who befriends and loves the lesbians in our midst. They are welcome, they are vital, they are loved. They are also in sin, and I am the sheep who looks to the shepherd of the flock to shepherd us. My pastor did not want to shepherd.

He refused to shepherd my friends who persisted in their sin, and by making friends with them and with their sin, he neglected to shepherd me.

They say they are a marginalized group. They say they are victims. I beg to differ. It is Christians like me who are pushed out, marginalized, and left out in the cold in today's progressive church.

So, I am a sheep without a shepherd.

But I went to church on Sunday. I went to a new church. It will not be perfect. No church is perfect. It will seem strange for awhile. But I went. And it was hard.

IT WAS HARD.

I have been following after Christ for 38 years, minus the six years in high school and college when I decided it would be more fun to do as I pleased. I read the Bible, I pray with people, I listen to good preaching and teaching, I participate in Bible studies. And friends, I'm telling you, if getting dressed and driving and parking my car and walking in to a new church was hard for ME? Guess how much harder it is for the person who is REALLY a stranger?

The person who has never been in a church. The person who has heard frightening things about what Christians believe. The person who has no point of reference whatsoever about where to park, where to walk, where to sit, what to wear, what not to wear, what to carry.....

Friends, going to church is HARD. And I'm not talking about you happy extroverts out there. I'm convinced that that is what most of the Sunday congregation is made up of: people for whom leaving their house and entering a church DOES NOT provoke heart palpitations and sweaty palms.

Think about that.

My new pastor, who doesn't know me from Adam, walked up to me, shook my hand, looked me in the eyes, and asked, "Are you o.k.?" Are you o.k. Am I o.k. I told him I was fine, and asked if he was o.k. He said he was doing well, and moved on.

He could have said any number of things. He could have said, "welcome," or "how are you this morning," or "I'm glad you came." But he asked, "are you o.k.?"

After he moved on, I was surprised by the tears. They just came in a rush, just like that. Am I o.k.? Well, no. Am I o.k.? Well, obviously not. Am I o.k. AM I O.K.

Someone, no, not someone, A SHEPHERD said three little words to me and all of a sudden I felt shepherded again. I felt cared for. I felt loved, even. After leaving my last church (of which I was a faithful part for over 9 years), my former pastor did not call me. He did not send me an email asking how I was doing. He did nothing to reach out to this sad, bewildered sheep and lay a reassuring hand on my life and say it was going to be o.k. But on Sunday, on Sunday at my new church my new pastor saw something, knew something, and asked me if I was o.k.

Heck yeah, I'm o.k! I'm a sheep with a shepherd, and while it's not going to be perfect, I'm going to be just fine.







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