Wear.Jean.Jackets
I found myself in Birmingham Alabama while touring a few years ago on Easter. We had spent a few days off relaxing in our friend’s loft that over looked the city. It was a nice break from the tour we were on and a great opportunity to get to know the other band we were on the road with. It really felt as though we were becoming a family as we shared road stories and life experiences. But here we were Easter morning, one month deep into our tour. Our Sundays best for most of us looked like sweaty rags and for one of the dudes it was a Metallica jean jacket with cut off sleeves and a red bandana holding back his greasy hair. We all chuckled at ourselves as you piled into our 15-passenger van.
On the way to church we continued to share laughter and stories and if I remember correctly a few of the guys sang Jesus Freak by DC Talk… from memory.
Our friend announced that we had arrived and as I looked out the window to see the church, I was surprised at how huge it was. The building looked more like a college campus than a church. We parked a few football fields away in the overflow lots that were quickly filling. As we piled out of the van and looked around it became obvious that our Sunday’s best wasn’t quite up to snuff with those around us.
Girls in long beautiful flowing dresses. Boys in buttoned down shirts with a tie. Mothers wearing those huge Easter hats that act more like umbrellas than hats if you ask me. And Fathers dressed appropriately for a Wall Street business meeting. My little white V-neck with pit stains just wasn’t cutting it with this crowd. As we looked around at each other we began to laugh knowing that God in heaven wasn’t concerned with our attire and more with our hearts.
Fearlessly our jean jacket friend led the way to the doors of the church. As we made our way across the parking lots it was hard not to feel all the eyes bearing down on our presence. We made our way into the church to discover it looked more like Dodger Stadium on the inside than any church we had ever been in. There was a full blown Starbucks located in this hallway that wrapped itself around the auditorium along with other booths. The room had a certain buzz to it with people meeting and greeting each other over a cup of coffee as everyone slowly made their way into the main sanctuary.
Oddly enough no one cared to introduce themselves to us for some reason. In fact it seemed as though people made an effort to take a step back from our group. Maybe we didn’t get the dress code memo but I know I don’t smell that bad because I showered the night before. Nevertheless our fearless leader dragged through the perfectly dressed crowd and had us sit front and center. The weight of thousands of eyes staring became rather awkward and heavy.
The service began as the 30 piece band took the stage and put on a performance. Songs were perfectly timed with lights and slides to create an event that seemed more like a U2 concert than sunday morning worship. The pastor walked out with his Madonna mic and told more punch lines than Easter stories. He ended his message with sharing the gospel of Jesus and asked if people would like to pray with him to receive salvation.
After the magical prayer was echoed through the auditorium the service came to an end and we were dismissed to go home. My friends and I stood up once again and were greeted with stares of hostility. The crowd seemed to split as though Moses himself asked it to part like the sea for us to pass through, and it closed behind us with whispers and small comments.
I guess if Jesus lived in Alabama his gospel and salvation would be for those who sipped on Starbucks. For those who got the dress code memo. For those who think U2 and Dane Cook are what church is all about.
I’m glad Jesus lives in heaven. I’m glad his love for us doesn’t depend on what we choose to wear. I’m glad he accepts us for who we are and meets us where we are at. I’m glad his heart is that all may know his mercy, grace and forgiveness. I’m glad that his gospel is for
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Y
B
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Even Metallica fans whom Wear.Jean.Jackets
-Billy
