Last night at the pub, we had great conversation that followed after Rev. Deborah’s meaningful, powerful sermon on Sunday about welcoming and accepting all of God’s children, especially those considered different because of their sexuality. (If you want to hear it, we’ll be posting it later today, and I’ll make sure to link back to it.) It was a particularly moving sermon because it focused on how scripture and experience has guided Deborah in her conclusions. She opened up some of her own journey and the questions and pain she has seen so many struggle with.

During our conversation at the pub, our group reflected on how experience often changes our conclusions about a lot of things. When you or someone close to you goes through a challenging time in their life, faces tragedy, or struggles with their identity, at the very least, you are moved toward a more compassionate stance. You become less likely to say something hurtful and more likely to be patient and understanding.

Jesus always had eyes of compassion, in my opinion. He noticed people – the homeless, wounded, lost, and broken – whereas others in his day walked past without a turn of the head. Sometimes, Jesus’ encounter with these people, like the rich young ruler, turned the tables and exposed people who thought they had it all together as the ones who were actually missing something.

As one of our participants said last night, “we are all messed up.” None of us have a perfect set of values – we all harbor hypocrisy. We all say one thing but do another. We all believe in one idea but practice a different way. Look no further than our political sphere to see this exposed each and everyday in the lives of a bunch of men and women who have great aspirations, ideas, and passions for our nation and world… but always discover that life and politics is a bit more of a tangled mess than they might wish.

The good news in all of this? Christ sees each of us as the mess we are and welcomes us anyway. Those eyes of compassion that are capable of cutting to the core of our insecurities and brokenness are also the same that invite us to share bread and cup, forgiveness and wholeness. Through Christ, our mess becomes something beautiful.

As Deborah shared in her sermon, quoting her friend, “God made me just the way I am, and God don’t make no trash.”