The Rodeo Man And The Preacher
I heard a story one day that provided food for a lot of thought and conjecture. To the best of my recollection, the story goes something like this. Once there was a young man who dreamed of being a rodeo cowboy. He seemed to have the gift to be good at it and begged his mother to allow him to forgo college and give the rodeo a try. The woman gave her son her blessings, provided that he promised to always find a church to attend on Sunday mornings. The young man assured her that he would, and struck out on the circuit to live his dream.
Life on the road was tedious for the young cowboy at times, but he enjoyed some early success and learned to take the lows of rodeo life along with the highs, and never once missed a church service along the way. On a bright Sunday morning in a new town, the young man showered, shaved, and dressed in blue jeans, a cowboy button-down shirt, and old dusty boots. He drove his road-weary pickup truck through town to a church that he as seen when he arrived. At the church, the young man confidently entered the building and found a seat. The lad thought it a little unusual that not one person welcomed him, introduced themselves to him, offered a handshake, or even looked in his direction. He was definitely uncomfortable being there, but he had made a promise to his mother, so he sat up straight and proud and listened to the music and to the sermon. The service concluded and the cowboy stood politely and waited for the crowd to exit, then he entered the line leading to the door where the pastor stood, shaking hands with everyone as they left. Again, not one person in the church bothered to speak to him. Finally, he made it to the door and it was his turn to address the pastor. As he extended his hand toward the young cowboy, the pastor looked him up and down and said, “Son, we are glad you joined us today, but you might want to speak to God and ask him about the dress code in the House of the LORD.” The cowboy was a bit taken aback, but recovered, nodded, and walked away.
The rodeo concluded late the following Saturday, so the cowboy found himself attending the same church the next weekend. Dressed in a similar fashion as the week before, the young man considered finding a different church or skipping services altogether, because of the reception he had received the previous Sunday. But he remembered his promise, so he went inside and took a seat. Again, not one of the congregants offered a welcome, a handshake, or even a smile. He felt like walking out, but he sat reverently and paid attention to the service as his mother expected of him.
This time, as he accepted the preacher’s hand, the pastor’s expression got serious and he said, “I thought I told you to speak with God about the dress code that we have here.” The young man leaned in while holding a firm and manly grip on the pastor’s hand and replied, “I did just that, sir. God said that I should ask you because he had never been to this church either.”
Hopefully, this is a story fabricated in order to make a point. My guess is that it is a tale based upon many conglomerated stories told over time, but who is to say? I’ve heard stories over the years about churches, or I should say, members of churches that might cause a visitor or potential new member to be cautious or wary about “darkening the doors” of said church. Unfortunately, it is true that some of the most “un-Christ-like” behavior comes from some who most frequently can be seen occupying the pews of the local church.
I will not elaborate on specifics of any particular “bad behavior” coming from the Sunday regulars because doing so might shed an unfavorable light on me. Many who know me know that my own lifestyle, transparent as it is, often falls short of the standards of the “Lookie Loo’s,” the “Nosey Rosey’s,” and the “Holier-than-thou’s.” Besides, to enumerate the sins of others would be in direct violation of the rubricated words in THE New Testament.
I pondered the story of the cowboy and plead guilty to the personal indictment therein, because, well, I am guilty of so, so many sins over a lifetime of searching for answers. As I pondered, I was reminded of a sermon from a Southern Baptist Preacher many years ago, one that obviously struck a chord. The sermon was based on the story in the book of Acts involving a man and his wife who conspired together and committed a grievous sin against the Holy Spirit. (Acts 5 1 – 11, for those who are interested) When their sin was exposed, they were promptly struck dead as punishment. The message that the pastor was attempting to get across was that Christians need to be prepared to enter into the presence of the Holy Spirit, and if we thought for one minute that we might be struck down, then we would most certainly spend a little time in prayer and supplication before going to church.
I thought about my daily prayers, especially if it is late and I am tired, I spout off the everyday recitation quickly, often dozing off during or before I can complete my prayer. Or in the mornings, how I already have the day ahead starting in my mind with all of the demands of life and mental lists growing and how my concentration is on a million things at once, and not one of those things involves communion with God. Next, my mind took me back to many Sundays when my kids were young and we were making an effort to raise them up, going to church in order to expose them to religious doctrines and Biblical teaching so that they would in time accept the beckoning of the soft still voice of the Holy Spirit and that they would ask Jesus to come into their lives as their savior. I chuckled as well, remembering how, I needed the redemption of the Holy Spirit after all of the fussing, fighting, screaming, horn blowing, and cussing that it took to get everyone up, fed, dressed, and out the door to make it to church on time.
The words that the pastor preached all those years ago in a little Southern Baptist Church in South, Mississippi, remain true today. Sometimes, I don’t take it seriously enough. Sometimes, I fall far, far short of the GLORY of GOD. Yes, often, I fall short. Every now and then though, I forget about myself, I forget about the blind path I’m on and the reactions rather than actions in my life. It is in those times that I remember GOD’S GRACE. I thank HIM for not striking me down and I prepare my heart and I prepare my mind, and I yield myself to HIS presence. It is then that I can make my request known. It is then that it becomes clear that God already knows my wants, my needs, my desires, and that what he wants in return is simple. He wants ME.
I wonder sometimes though, just how long GOD, our creator, will tolerate the disobedience of mankind. How long before he says, “ENOUGH!” I’m not one to go around saying that the day is near. People have been saying that since the “stone was rolled away.” However, I can say with complete and one hundred percent certainty that we are ONE DAY CLOSER when we awoke this morning than we were yesterday.
I’ll leave you with the words of a barroom bathroom poet from the middle Tennessee area from the 1990s. Someone had written on a bathroom wall, “Jesus is coming soon.” Below that, our poet produced a sharpie and wrote, “So look busy!” Funny? Yes, some. In poor taste? Yes, definitely. True? Well, not in the sense that our activity here on Earth can somehow gain our way into eternal fellowship with the CREATOR. But true in that we can heed the warnings of the country preacher that I spoke of earlier. By preparing our hearts and preparing our minds in preparation before we enter the presence of the Holy Spirit. When prepared to meet Jesus
As far as the likes of the “pew warmers” and their behavior in the tale of the cowboy, remember that it was often those of a similar ilk, who gave Jesus such a hard time when he was present on Earth. Remember that it was the Pharisees and the Sadducees who berated Jesus. But also remember Jesus for his association with people like the Samaritan woman at Jacob’s well, the Roman Centurion who asked him to heal his servant, and the “unclean woman” who had suffered from a disease, and was healed when she drew near enough to Jesus to touch the fringe of his clothing. Jesus ministered to the Jews, but also to the “unclean,” the Romans, the Samaritans, the sick and demon-possessed, and yes, if it had been the case, he would have welcomed a rodeo cowboy.