Will We Let Them In?

I think it was maybe ninth grade, and he sat right in front of me in class. I don’t remember what class it was. It was a long time ago, and there is so much I have forgotten, so it is funny how vividly I remember this.

We called it junior high back then, rather than middle school—seventh through ninth grade. You remember—the age where there are so many hormones, so many changes, so much drama and trauma! Like the culture and world at large, we seem to have a great tendency to develop our own little cliques. Every generation has had them. From the greasers and the socs in the ’50s to the emos and the hipsters of late, we form these groups by which we identify and then include and exclude based on our standards.

In the early ’80s, there were the jocks, the preps, and the burnouts. The jocks were the athletic type; the preps were usually wealthier and overachievers; the burnouts—well, you know, the ones who did drugs and got into more trouble. You could pick each group out by their attire. The jocks wore Levi jeans and T-shirts—often with their favorite sports team or the school mascot—and the latest trend in athletic shoes. The preps could be found sporting Ralph Lauren polo shirts under a button-down Oxford, ideally with expensive jeans like Guess or Gloria Vanderbilt, and loafers. The burnouts had flannel shirts and waffle-stompers (otherwise known as hiking boots).

So, this guy that sat in front of me in class was clearly in the burnout group. Yet, one day, he showed up minus the flannel and waffle-stompers and wearing a T-shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes. Yes, that’s right, he was masquerading as a jock! I called him on it, asking what was up. He said, “You know, I used to be good at sports. I was good at running, and I liked it. The other day, I tried to go running, and—since I started smoking—I couldn’t even run anymore. I decided it just wasn’t worth it. I’m going to make some changes.” I couldn’t help but admire his gumption to make such a drastic lifestyle change, and I secretly wished him the best.

He wore his jock outfit for a while and then, one day, he showed up in his flannel and boots again. Again, I asked him what was up. I was heartbroken by his response. The jocks, many of them my friends, wouldn’t let him “in.” He had been shunned, excluded—rejected. Even if he wanted to change, they weren’t going to make room in their clique to give him a chance to try. He looked so sad. I was sad. Sad for him, disappointed in my friends. To this day, I wonder where life took him. If he ever was able to break free from that burnout culture. Is he leading a business somewhere? Or sitting in jail or a rehab facility?

Years later—too many years, to be honest—I have found myself in a very similar situation. I am becoming aware of the cliques we form in society and all too aware of how we can exclude those who “don’t fit in.” God has broadened my world. I have jumped over the high walls surrounding the modern church and ventured out into the world. I now not only know of these other cliques—I know them. I knew there were people who were abused; now I know people who have been abused. I knew there were people caught up in the drug world; now I know people struggling with addictions. I knew there were people in jail; now I know people in the jail.

And some things never change. We still set up some pretty firm boundaries on our little cliques, on the inclusion/exclusion criteria. As I have gone into the jail, it has taken a long time for them to let me “in.” I have had to work really hard to gain their trust and to show them I really do love them and care for them. In all honesty, I had to make a lot of changes to gain that acceptance. I didn’t pick up their habits, but I did have to let go of a lot of judgment and hypocrisy.

And as these women come to accept Christ, I have watched them really struggle to be accepted by people in the church. They share stories of feeling shunned, excluded—rejected. They talk about how the “church ladies” see their tattoos before they ever even talk to them to see where their heart is for Christ. They are judged for their skin color, their clothes, their language. And just like my friend, so often they go back and put on their “flannels and waffle-stompers.” If we won’t let them in, they have to either go it alone or go back to their old friends and their old ways. It’s hard to go it alone. Most don’t make it. And they are so sad. And I am sad. Sad for them, disappointed in my friends. After all, we’re not just talking the difference between business school and treatment center here . . . this is about souls . . . for eternity. We must do better. Let them in.

“May the God who gives endurance and encouragement give

you the same attitude of mind toward each other that

Christ Jesus had, so that with one mind and one voice you

may glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Accept one another, then, just as Christ accepted

you, in order to bring praise to God.”

Romans 15:5–7 NIV

“Suppose a man comes into your meeting wearing a gold

ring and fine clothes, and a poor man in filthy old clothes

also comes in. If you show special attention to the man

wearing fine clothes and say,"Here’s a good seat for you,”

but say to the poor man, “You stand there” or

“Sit on the floor by my feet,” have you not discriminated

among yourselves and become judges with evil thoughts?”

James 2:2–4 NIV

“When the Pharisees saw this, they asked his disciples,

“Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?”

On hearing this, Jesus said, “It is not the healthy who need a

doctor, but the sick. But go and learn what this means:

‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ For I have not

come to call the righteous, but sinners.””

Matthew 9:11–13 NIV