On the second night there, Collins went down to the hotel bar dressed in slacks, a nice shirt and a very expensive leather jacket. He was stopped at the door and told, “You can’t come in here without a jacket.” He said, “I’m wearing a jacket.” To which the reply came, “It’s not a proper jacket.”

Collins wasn’t allowed into the bar, but got the last word when he named his next and most successful album “No Jacket Required”.

Sadly, I know people who’ve had similar experiences when visiting churches. Perhaps not quite as bluntly put, but nonetheless the message was communicated as to what was proper. The choir may be singing, “There’s Room At The Cross For You”, but the feeling you get is only if you’re wearing the right kind of suit.

During my seminary days I was on staff at First Baptist Church in Tempe, Arizona. The sign out front reflected the mission of the church. “Gentle, Caring, Biblical”. One Sunday morning a man came in late to the service. Chet Farrington, the best church greeter God ever made, welcomed him warmly with a handshake and a pat on the back as he handed him a bulletin.  

The man sat down in the back row. His dress was outlandish. Almost cartoonish. A white suit with lapels that could double as airplane wings. Gaudy jewelry. A shirt so neon bright it seemed the reason for the oversized sunglasses he wore. And the finishing touch to his ensemble, a flourescent pink feather boa wrapped once around the neck.

It was hard for me not to stare. He looked so out of place. But whose problem was that? Certainly not his. I felt like he would get up and leave at anytime. But he didn’t. He stayed for the entire message before quietly slipping out the back.

I never saw him again. But I’ve always thought that Chet’s warm welcome made him feel comfortable enough to stay the hour. Whatever else happened in that man’s life, he heard God’s truth at that moment in time. A warm welcome made all the difference.

Friends, the mystery of God’s grace is that God showed His great love for us in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. Which is to say God didn’t wait for us to clean up and put on a Sunday suit before meeting with us. He knew there was only one solution to our problem. Christ died to pay the penalty for our sins. Because of that gift, we are freely invited and warmly welcomed to “come as we are”.

No jacket required.

“For God showed His love for us in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” – Romans 5:8

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” – Matthew 11:28

At the end of the day on our way out of the park was a giant snowman. One of those oversized inflatable costumes with a person inside. I took the kids’ picture by it and Emma shook the snowman’s hand.

As we continued on to the car, Emma said, “Daddy, that wasn’t the real Frosty.”

“Why do you think so, Emma?”

“Because I felt a finger.”

Kids have a sense about what’s real. And what’s not. They know. Like the old saying, “You can’t fool kids and dogs.” Emma knows that Frosty isn’t supposed to have fingers. And when it comes to matters of the heart, kids have discernment beyond their years. They know what’s real and what’s not. It’s a God-given protection, I think.

Real.

What’s real? Is it the oversized, puffed up costume that other people see? Or is it what’s attached to the finger on the inside?

Our culture places a high value on how things look on the outside. It’s why we wash our cars, paint our houses and our faces, get plastic surgery, ink tattoos and buy designer clothes. We spend a lot of time and money on looking good.

There’s nothing inherently wrong with presenting well, unless it’s the basis for our identity. Yet do we spend equal time on what our inside looks like? The condition of our heart and soul? The places no one but God can see? Our Frosty may be all white on the outside, but what does he look like on the inside?

During Jesus’ days of walking the earth the Frosty’s at the gate were a group called the Pharisees. No one could argue with their diligence, their discipline and high regard for God’s law. The problem was they focused too much on outward appearance. They made sure everyone knew how holy they were. Their polished exterior covered an inner heart of pride and self-righteous arrogance. Jesus called them “whitewashed tombs full of dead men’s bones.”

Ouch.

Let’s choose to be real. Even if we are able to make it through life fooling kids and dogs, we can’t fool God. He knows the condition of our heart. We may succeed in fooling everyone around us but the day will come when we’ll have to be honest with God. You might say that He, too, knows that the real Frosty doesn’t have any fingers. And He’s going to ask about what’s inside. Because He cares more about the condition of our heart than the costume we’re wearing. 

The good news is that God is always here to help us clean up. He isn’t surprised by what He finds inside our heart. A simple, “God, I need help with this” is all it takes to start the process. He is unfailing and unconditional in His love, forgiveness, mercy and grace. He is the gentle healer.

Let’s be real.

“Woe to you, experts in the law and you Pharisees, hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs that look beautiful on the outside but inside are full of the bones of the dead and of everything unclean.” – Matthew 23:27

“You desire integrity in the inner man; you want me to possess wisdom. Sprinkle me with water and I will be pure, wash me and I will be whiter than snow.” – Psalm 51:6-7

That’s why it was so confusing to me when he painted over the entire frame with a cheap can of olive green spray paint.

“Are you crazy?!! Why in the world would you do that? Why would you ruin that gorgeous metallic blue paint job?”

His answer?

“This is all I’ve got to get me from coast to coast. If the bike looks expensive, someone will want to steal it. If they steal it, my trip is over. If it’s ugly, everyone will think it’s junk and leave it alone. I don’t care how it looks. I care how it works.”

“Okay, okay, I get it. But that metallic blue was so cool. Couldn’t you have saved the paint job and just bought a really big padlock?”

He laughed and pedaled away. The bike must have been sufficiently ugly as he completed his Pacific to Atlantic tour without incident.

We live in a culture where image is everything. Looks are more than important. They are essential to success. At least that’s the premise incessantly sold to us. The right toothpaste, deodorant, shampoo, clothes, car and credit card will bring more of everything wonderful into our lives. Looking good is the key to landing a new job, getting promoted, and finding that special relationship. And if one is able to associate with other people who look good, so much the better. When Calvin Klein Gucci Obsession Lexus people network with Armani Rolex Louie Vuitton Crest White Strips Mercedes people, corporate success is sure to follow.

No one disputes the importance of personal hygiene and presenting well. Yet at some point, isn’t it worth asking what it is we’re dressing up?

It would be simplistic to say that the two kinds of people in the world are metallic blue and olive green. Both paint jobs can cover quality or cover junk. Sometimes what you see is what you get. Sometimes what you see is not what you get. Appearances can be deceiving in both directions. No person is entirely good or entirely bad. Curiously enough, God thinks we’re all worth redeeming regardless of our paint job. And He seems to care more about our being top of the line in how we work rather than how we look.

That’s especially true in how we treat one another as human beings.

Greet one another. Encourage one another. Serve one another. Pray for one another. Bear one another’s burdens. Forbear one another. Forgive one another. Cry with one another. Rejoice with one another. Admonish one another. Exhort one another. Spur one another on to love and good deeds. Be kind to one another. Treat one another in the same way that you would like to be treated.

That last one is golden. 

Let’s think about our paint job today and ask ourselves, “Is it covering quality? Or covering junk?” If it’s covering quality, it doesn’t matter if it’s metallic blue or olive green. If it’s covering junk, let’s strip the paint and work on the frame.

Given a choice, how it works is more important than how it looks.

“…for God sees not as man sees, for man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” – 1 Samuel 16:7

When we were finished I went up to the counter to pay the check. After the cashier handed me my receipt, I turned around. Standing in front of me was a huge man. At least 6′5″ tall and every bit of 280 pounds. He was scary big. He looked mean, like a bulldog in a bad mood. His hair was brown and long, pulled back and held in place by a red bandana. He had a mustache goatee combination that made Fu Manchu look like a pre-pubescent school boy. Over his black sleeveless t-shirt he wore a black leather vest with Harley Davidson patches on it. His arms were tattooed. Some guys have muscles like guns. This guy had missiles with elbows.

I started to step around him when he held up his hand like a stop sign. I’m thinking, oh no, did I sit in his favorite booth? Did I take his parking spot?

In a brass knuckle voice he said, “My little girl said she saw you prayin’ before you ate.”

Great. Big Bad Biker Dude’s little girl saw me praying.

Looking at this guy who could snap me in half like a fortune cookie, I’m wondering how his little girl feels about prayer?

I’m hoping she’s in favor of it.

“Uh…yeah…that was me.”

“Well, I have to tell you that I think…that’s great. We pray, too. Hey, do you have a church home? Because if you don’t we’ve got a good one and you’re welcome to come visit anytime.”

He gave me the cross streets of his church, shook my hand and said, “God bless. Good to meet you.” Watching him drive away I couldn’t help but think he was the perfect man for the church outreach committee. Who could say no to his invitations?

I do it. You do it. We all do it. We judge people. We judge people by their appearance or their behavior. They say you can’t judge a book by its cover, but the truth is most of us are very shallow readers. It’s easier to size people up by what we see or what we hear or what we think we know than it is to take the time to get know people for who they really are.

We do the same thing to God. We size Him up by what we see or what we hear or what we think we know. Because it’s easier than taking the time to get to know Him for who He really is.

For some of us, God is a perfectionist drill sergeant. For others He is an impossible to please task master. For some of us He is a divine policeman, waiting for us to make a mistake so He can bust us down and make us pay. To some of us He is an indifferent, uncaring being; distant and even detached from everything that concerns us.

We also tend to judge God by our experiences. Some of us grew up in homes where our parents shoved God down our throats and when we got old enough to shove back, we pushed God out. Some of us don’t want anything to do with God because we feel like He abandoned us by not answering our prayers the way we hoped.

Some of us judge God by our church experiences. Maybe we’ve been in places where they cared more about getting in our wallet than caring about our soul. Maybe we’ve been hurt physically or emotionally by someone professing to be a Christian.

There’s no denying the damage done by fallen people in a fallen world. We do some pretty fair damage ourselves at times. But sooner or later we need to extend God the same courtesy we desire for ourselves; the chance to define who we are by our own terms.

While the opinions of others can be valuable, no one can describe you better than you. No one can communicate your heart, your convictions, your passions and your dreams better than you. And in the end, whether people like you or not, agree with you or not, or believe you or not, isn’t there a deep gratification that comes from having been given a full hearing?

Sometime soon give a thought to giving God the opportunity to be fully heard. Set aside what your mother thinks. Turn off the slick televangelist with the slicker hair. Put your bad memories and your bias in time-out. Clear the stage of everything you’ve been tripping over or have been using as a prop to support your arguments and your excuses.

Then grab a Bible and read the words of Jesus.

And as you do, just keep this question in front of you:

How does Jesus describe Jesus?

In the end, whether you agree with Him or not, whether you believe Him or not, you will have extended Jesus the same courtesy you desire for yourself; the right to define Himself by His own terms. That’s being intellectually and relationally fair.

In the same way that people would be surprised to learn new things about you when they give you a full hearing, you might be surprised to learn a few new things about Jesus. That He came to seek and save you. That He’s with you for the long haul. That He loves and forgives you no matter what you’ve done. That He was making incredible plans for you before the foundations of the world. That He came to give you life. And an abundant life at that. And that’s just the short list.

Oh, and there’s that one about Jesus being “a friend of sinners.”

That’s my favorite.

“And the Pharisees and their scribes began grumbling at His disciples, saying, “Why do you eat and drink with the tax-collectors and the sinners?” And Jesus answered and said to them, “It is not those who are well who need a physician, but those who are sick. I have not come to call the righteous but sinners to repentance.” – Luke 5:30-32

They say, “What you see is what you get.” Rarely is that true when it comes to people. For most of us, life is like an iceberg. The bulk of what’s there is below the surface. Unseen.

Call it the “X Factor”. Every person has an X Factor. At least one piece of information, a current or past life experience, that is unseen yet has a bearing on who we are and how we act. There is always more to us than meets the eye. Sometimes the more is good. Sometimes the more is bad. Sometimes the more is sad. Sometimes the more is a permanent scar on our heart that, like a bad tattoo, we can’t get rid of.

You may know her as the Mom whose kids attend all the events but she never volunteers to help with anything. And it bothers you. In your opinion, she’s always taking and never giving. What you don’t know is that she has no time to volunteer because she gets no support from her husband and she’s essentially raising the kids by herself.

You may see him as the guy always cracking jokes at the office, the guy who can never seem to be serious about anything. What you don’t know is that his humor is a cover and an escape from a miserable home life where he’s married to a bitter and contentious woman.

You may know her as the classic Type A perfectionist that drives everyone crazy with her unrealistic expectations. What you don’t know is that she grew up never once hearing her Dad say “I love you” and has spent her entire life trying to earn her approval from others by being a high achiever.

You may know him as the workaholic who spends 70 hours a week at his job. What you don’t know is that as the oldest of 5 kids he was thrust into the role of making money for the family as a teenager when his Dad died. He’s spent his whole life in fear that the same thing could happen to him and the only thing he knows to do is to work.

You may know her as a friendly, funny, talented person that everyone loves to be around but no one ever really seems to get to know. What you don’t know is she has struggled her entire life with deep feelings of insecurity and low self-worth. Keeping others at a distance is a defense mechanism that allows her to control how close people get. Because, in her mind, if people really knew her, they wouldn’t like her.

There’s always an X Factor. A story within the story. It’s true for you. It’s true for me. It’s true for everyone. The best reason to extend grace to one another is because we can’t fully know what another person is going through. It doesn’t mean we check our brains at the door when dealing with people. We need to be wise and discerning. Yet since we don’t know what the X Factor is, we would be wise to lead with grace. Because when we lead with grace, we open the door to relationship.

The people you and I live by and work with and drive by and exchange glances with in the store are people just like us. We’re all carrying around the baggage that comes with living in a fallen world. We all have an X Factor that no one knows about that influences who we are and how we interact. And we’re all looking for a safe place to dump all our stuff out on the table and say, “Here it is. I’ve got broken pieces and missing parts and I need someone to help me sort it out and put it together because I can’t do it on my own.” Let’s be the people who extend grace. The people who pull alongside and say, “You’re not alone. You should have seen all the stuff I dumped on the table. Let me help you sort it out.”

We’re all in process. The good news is that God has promised to never stop working on us. When we extend grace, we allow ourselves to be used by God to help one another grow.

Remember the X Factor. Extend grace.

We all need it.

“For I am confident that He (God) who began a good work in you will continue to perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus.” – Philippians 1:6

One Sunday during a worship service at a church in Mesa, the pianist played a solo. An arrangement of an old hymn. It was one of the most beautiful pieces I’d ever heard. I was moved by the music. As he sat behind the Steinway Grand I felt the floating arpeggios and the rolling bass notes. When the last chord resolved, I whispered, “Wow.” It was very worshipful.

When the service was over I made my way to the front to express my gratitude to the musician. “I wanted to thank you for the song you played. It really helped me to worship.”

He was putting away his music. “Thanks. Yeah, this is a decent gig. They pay pretty well.” He went on to say a few more things that confirmed this was just a way for him to make money while he was in school. He didn’t care about the church or the message of the music. To him it was just another piano solo that he got paid to play. Excellent technique, but no heart.

I walked away sad and disillusioned. How could there be such a disconnect between the beautiful music and the person playing it?

I can’t be critical of the piano player. There have been times in my life where my products and projects are visibly excellent, yet void of heart. It looks good from the outside. People may even benefit from it. Yet it’s not been completely consistent with what’s inside me. There’s a disconnect between what is visible and what can’t be seen, that being what’s going on in my heart.

The word is integrity. Simply put, it means your words and your actions line up together. That what’s on the outside is consistent with what’s on the inside. We tend to expect integrity from others. We want the salesperson to represent the product fairly. We want the doctor to fully explain both the benefits and side effects of a prescribed medication. We want the realtor to tell us all about the house we’d like to buy, not just the parts that show well.

We expect integrity from others. But sometimes we lower the expectation of integrity with ourselves. Businesses use politically correct terms like “margin” or “cushion” to describe the leeway. There are other words, too. Words like “inconsistent”, “disingenuous”, “misleading” and “lies”.

When we live in the margin, we compromise our integrity. It affects us. But it also has consequences for those we interact with. When integrity breaks down, trust goes out the window. Maybe not right away. But eventually those you deal with must decide whether or not they wish to continue dealing with you. You may or may not be able to regain their trust.

The sad irony is that once trust is lost, even that which is genuine is viewed with suspicion. My Grandpa bought a Ford back in 1935. It was, to hear him tell it, the lemon of all lemons. After that, all Fords were bad cars. Somehow Ford managed to sell millions of vehicles in the decades following 1935 but to my Grandpa, they were all lemons. Once trust is broken, it’s difficult to regain.

We’re all fallen people living in a fallen world. Which is to say we all have a proclivity toward sin. We’ve broken trust with others. Others have broken trust with us. All of us have broken trust with God. The Bible says we’ve all sinned and fall short of God’s glory. (Romans 3:23).

If you’ve broken trust with someone, resolve to restore your integrity with them and ask forgiveness. Remember that rebuilding the relationship will take time. Be consistent. It’s worthy of the effort.

If your trust has been broken, extend forgiveness. Forgiveness, as Lewis Smedes defined it, is “me giving up my right to hurt you for hurting me.” Remember, too, that people can change. God believes that so strongly that He didn’t write us off when we failed Him. The Bible tells us that “God showed His love toward us in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” (Romans 5:8)

People can change. Even the most trampled on trust can be rebuilt with a commitment to integrity. It means, over time, doing the hard work of putting away the past. When God redeems us, He doesn’t hold our past against us. The Ford Motor Company redefined it’s product since 1935. People broken and contrite over their failings who commit to integrity can redefine themselves, too. Hopefully it won’t take 70 years. But even if it does, it will be worth it.

Wherever you’re at this week, here’s hoping our hearts are on the same page as the music we’re playing.

In my part-time job I sell merchandise at America West Arena. Home to the NBA Phoenix Suns, Arizona Rattlers Arena Football team, and the Phoenix Roadrunners Hockey Club. For these events, our walk in store is open like any in a mall. For concerts, the set up is different.

In a concert setting we put two long tables across the opening to the store and set up grids behind us to display the merchandise. Boxes on the floor are full of t-shirts, arranged by style and size. The popularity and notoriety of the group in concert determines the size of the crowd and the pace of the evening. We’ve worked so many concerts that we are fairly able to predict what to expect. How steady sales will be, the length of the walk out, what type of outfits and clothing the fans will be wearing, whether it will be a heavy cash or heavy credit card night, and what kind of behavior will be displayed. Put another way, how many drunk and/or belligerent concert goers will the police escort out of the building?

The style of music determines the style of the crowd. George Strait brings in more cowboy hats and Tony Lama boots than you’ve ever seen under one roof. Cher (whose “Farewell Tour” has played the arena three times…so far) brings in more cross-dressers than you’ve ever seen under one roof. And the Rolling Stones are a magnet for Baby Boomers who rang up their credit cards for a building record of over $260,000 in merchandise in one evening.

We’ve worked so many concerts that we are fairly able to predict what to expect. Most of the time we’re right. But once in awhile we’re surprised. Which is to say that once in awhile my prejudices are challenged.

Nine Inch Nails came to town some time ago. It’s not music that I listen to. Some of the words on their concert T-shirts I wouldn’t feel comfortable listing here. Many of their fans are big into the Gothic look. The black overcoats, tattoos, multiple body piercings, black eye and lip liner. Part of me doesn’t care about this. To each his own. But when I push past the platitude, I know that I have pre-conceived ideas about the Goth look and the people who dress this way. If I didn’t, then I wouldn’t have been surprised on this night.

I expected the usual crush at the tables. Ten people across and thirty people deep, pushing for position and demanding to be next. Only I expected worse from this crowd. Anyone in a leather jacket with a spiked green Mohawk, an angry neck tattoo, and a chain connecting the ring in his nose to the ring in his ear can’t be of pleasant disposition, right? I was fairly certain this would be a night we’d be yelling for Security to help keep order.

But it didn’t happen. At all. Not once. There was no crush of people. No yelling. In fact, on their own they formed two neat lines. One for cash and one for debit/credit. This never happens at a concert. Ever. The odds of two neat lines at a concert merchandise table are the same as a pack of wild dogs forming a line behind a plate of pork chops.

There was no profanity, no demanding to be waited on. Quite the contrary. We heard, “I believe that she was here first. Please go ahead. I’ll wait.” And “May I please see the black photo T in a large? Thank you.” And “I’m sorry to be a bother, but could I see this in a medium instead?” And “Thanks for helping me. Have a great evening, ok?”

The courtesy and politeness were mind blowing. Especially in contrast to the Baby Boomers (read: “people my age”) who attended the REO Speedwagon/Styx concert within the same two week period. There was no black finger nail polish or wallet chains to be found on that night. But they were, for the most part, obnoxious, rude and downright insufferable. Put French cuffs and a silk tie on a jerk and all you have is a well-dressed jerk.

One reason we hold to wrong beliefs about people is that we don’t get close enough for our prejudices to be challenged. It’s easy to judge from a distance. The only conversation we have to have is with ourselves. We decide not to like people based on what we see or what we think we know. Humans tend to be down on what we’re not up on. The only way to get “up” is to get close enough for our prejudices to be challenged. I was down on the Gothic image because the only conversation I had about it was with myself. The concert forced me to examine my attitudes, which were proven to be selfish and short-sighted. I’ll still never buy a Nine Inch Nails CD. But since that night my attitude is different toward those who do.

During His time on earth, Jesus loved people up close and personal. While the religious leaders and power brokers judged from a distance, Jesus mixed and mingled with everyone. Including everyone no one wanted to be associated with. The lepers, the tax collectors, the prostitutes, the “sinners”. Why? Because Jesus understood that people matter to God. All people. Whether someone’s sporting a black trench coat and a rivet in their ear or are prepped out in Izod and Sperry Topsiders, it’s just the outside of an inside that’s the same. We all need God.

Here’s hoping your prejudices are challenged this week. Maybe it’s getting close enough to better understand your mother-in-law. Or the co-worker with the Hoover personality that sucks the life out of you. Maybe it’s getting close enough to understand the culture your kids live in. Whatever it is for you, get close enough to be challenged. God will honor your effort. And you’ll be better for it.

By the way… up close, that spiked green Mohawk was really cool.

“…For God sees not as man sees, for man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” – 1 Samuel 16:7

At the top of the High Hill, with a view of the entire valley below lived the High Mudders. Of all the mud in the land, theirs was the best. It had no rocks or debris. It didn’t smell bad. It was smooth and felt good to the touch. It was a mud made from the best topsoil and snowmelt water from the Peaks. The High Mudders were good people. They worked hard, went to church and cared about each other. They looked often toward the Peaks and wondered what it would be like to live beyond. They also looked down, glad they weren’t living below.

A bit farther down lived the Side Hill Mudders. They didn’t have the view that the High Mudders enjoyed, nor was their mud the best. Their mud was bad. It was lumpy, made from clay and water that wasn’t very clear. Their mud smelled like mud and it had rocks and sticks and debris mixed in. The Side Hill Mudders were good people. They worked hard, went to church and cared about each other. The Side Hill Mudders looked often toward the Peaks and wondered what it would be like to live where the High Mudders dwelled. They also looked down, glad they weren’t living below.

At the bottom of the valley in the Swampy Place lived the Muck and Mire Mudders. They didn’t have a view at all. Their mud was the worst. It was ugly. It was gloppy, green and slimy and smelled bad because it was made with stagnant water. The Muck and Mire Mudders were good people. They worked hard, went to church and cared about each other. The Muck and Mire Mudders looked often toward the Peaks and wondered what it would be like to live anywhere but the Swampy Place.

The Mud People lived each day in their mud. The High Mudders lived in their good mud. The Side Hill Mudders lived in their bad mud. And the Muck and Mire Mudders lived in their ugly mud. Thus the Mud People lived in their mud.

One day the High Mudders looked up to see someone coming down from beyond the Peaks. The place He came from wasn’t muddy. His clothes were white and clean. He waded into the good mud of the High Mudders and announced, “I am the Messenger. I bring good news from the Crystal Palace beyond the Peaks. You are all invited to the grand feast. Come as you are.” The High Mudders were thrilled. They had heard of the Crystal Palace and dreamed often of life beyond the Peaks. The Messenger waded out of the High Mudders’ good mud and left them to anticipate the grand feast.

The Crystal Palace was more magnificent than they had imagined. The Messenger greeted them at the door. “Welcome! Enter in to your joy and join in the celebration!” The High Mudders took their places at the tables. Yet the banquet hall wasn’t full. There were empty chairs. Lots of them. Who else could possibly be invited to the grand feast?

The doors swung wide and in came the Side Hill Mudders. The High Mudders didn’t recognize them at first as they had only seen them from a far distance. But the dried lumps of clay that crumbled from their clothes and fell to the pristine white marble floor confirmed who they were. What were they doing here? Had not the Messenger came to the High Mudders to invite them to the feast? The High Mudders wondered about this as the Side Hill Mudders found their seats, some of which were right next to theirs.

The doors swung wide again. It was the Messenger, pointing and directing the Muck and Mire Mudders to their seats. The High Mudders had never seen the Muck and Mire Mudders for the High Hill was far removed from the Swampy Place. Yet they could tell the Muck and Mire Mudders by the smell. Their shoes squeaked on the white floor leaving a trail of green slime and gloppy mud. The Muck and Mire Mudders found their seats next to the Side Hill Mudders and High Mudders.

Everyone was seated. The Messenger stood at the head table and said, “Thank you for accepting my invitation. It is my joy to welcome you to the grand feast. You are each one my honored guest. Eat, drink, and enjoy the banquet set before you.”

Delicious food and vintage wine were brought to every table. Joyous music filled the air. The feast had begun. The Messenger made His way from table to table. He warmly greeted each Mud person with a hug and a kind welcome.

The High Mudders wondered about this. Talking among themselves they decided to pull the Messenger aside. “You waded into our good mud and invited us to the grand feast. But we’re wondering why the Side Hill Mudders and the Muck and Mire Mudders are sitting at our tables.”

“Because I waded into their mud and invited them, too.”, answered the Messenger.

“But, their mud…it’s so bad and ugly.”

Sunshine of the purest light streamed through the windows and fell on the muddy footprints now covering the white marble tile. The Messenger answered, “When the feast is over, I will mop the floor. And when I do, be it good, bad, or ugly…mud is mud.”

“For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” – Romans 3:23

“But God, being rich in mercy, because of His great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in our transgressions, made us alive together with Christ (by grace you have been saved), and raised us up with Him, and seated us with Him in the heavenly places, in Christ Jesus, in order that in the ages to come He might show the surpassing riches of His grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus.” – Ephesians 2:4-7