Friend of Sinners

When he walked into our little country church, everyone’s head turned. Black leather jacket, hair down to his waist tied in a ponytail, dirty jeans and motorcycle boots. Our church was in farm country, attended by regular ol’ people who faithfully sat in the same pew and talked to the same people each week. His name was John and he came late that Sunday, slipping into the second row behind my dad, the pastor. He sat quietly throughout the service, soaking in everything that was said. Following the sermon, John and my dad had a long conversation in the front row. Mom watched pensively from the back foyer of our church, her heart both worried and filled with prayer for this disheveled, rough looking man. These types of people rarely darkened the doors of our quaint church.

The conversation ended with Dad praying, his hand firmly placed on this man’s shoulder. Dad prayed with a look of authority and earnestness. John shook my dad’s hand, wiped tears from his eyes and left quietly through the doors he entered. Later, Dad shared with us that John had lived a hard life filled with drugs and booze. Someone had recommended that he try going to our little church. He said John prayed for the first time, asking God to enter his life and forgive his sins. Dad was confident John’s heart toward God was authentic and that we’d be seeing John again. God was interested in bringing a dramatic change to his life.

As a preacher’s son, I heard plenty of sermons on how God loves to radically transform people. But this, perhaps, was the first time I had actually seen radical change in someone. Over time, we saw John grow. He cleaned up; inside and out. He read his Bible, came to church faithfully, prayed and did Bible studies. He enrolled in a local Bible institute, studied to become a pastor, moved to Texas and started preaching to anyone who would listen. John, once a dirty, drunk biker, is now a missionary and pastor. And, I got to see my parents dedicate themselves to his growth. This, I believe, was a stretch for my mom and dad. They were wonderful people that I don’t they ever had many people in their lives with such rough of edges as John did. John stretched their ability to love the lost and wandering.

This memory from my childhood flooded my heart the other day when I was sorting through my father’s things. In October, my dad who was in his mid-nineties, passed away marking the end of his days of pastoring and caring for lost people. I was flipping through dad’s last piles of mail, I found in the stack a prayer card from John. Attached was a picture of him and his family. For the past 20 years, John has been a traveling preacher; he calls himself an “evangelist.” His home is in Texas but he travels from town to town, church to church in impoverished areas of the world telling his story. John has shared with thousands the Good News about Jesus’ forgiveness of sins, His love and His desire to give a true, meaningful life. This all began during those nervous, awkward moments in our little church over 30 years ago.

When Jesus walked the earth, he had a habit of hanging out with people who were known for their sin. The nickname Jesus inherited, “friend of sinners” was not meant as a compliment. Jesus put his reputation at risk by who he hung with. But, what was his mission? To seek and save those who were lost. What if John hadn’t been accepted by my dad and our little church? What if he had been ignored, avoided or even worse turned away at the door? What would our world have lost if John remained lost?

This week's author- Phil Niekerk, senior small group pastor