It was a cold winter's day that Sunday. The parking lot to the church
was filling up quickly. I noticed as I got out of my car fellow church
members were whispering among themselves as they walked in the church.
As I got closer I saw a man leaned up against the wall outside the
church.
He was almost laying down as if he was asleep. He had on a long trench
coat that was almost in shreds and a hat topped his head, pulled down
so you
could not see his face. He wore shoes that looked 30 years old, too
small for his feet, with holes all over
them, his toes stuck out. I assumed this man was homeless, and asleep,
so I walked on by through the doors of the church.
We all fellowshipped
for a
few minutes, and someone brought up the man laying outside. People
snickered
and gossiped but no one bothered
to ask him to come in, including me. A few moments later church began.
We all waited for the Preacher to take his place and to give us the
Word,
when the doors to the church opened. In came the homeless man walking
down the
aisle with his head down. People gasped and whispered and made faces.
He
made his way down the aisle and up onto the pulpit where he took off
his hat and coat. My heart
sank. There stood our preacher...he was the "homeless man." No one
said
a word. The preacher took his Bible and laid it on his stand.
"Folks, I
don't think I have to tell you what I am preaching about today."
Makes you think, doesn't it.
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