Every church has a few. When we see them, we think of the old chorus., “I’m so glad I’m a part of the family of God.” But we change the words to, “I’m surprised you’re a part of the family of God.”
They are fearfully and wonderfully weird. They have a gift for sucking the joy right out of those around them. They are a French fry short of a happy Meal, missing a few buttons off the remote. You know the type. The porch light is on but nobody is home. They even look funny, as they apparently shop at “Nerds Are Us.” There is always something that is unbuttoned, undone, unzipped, or untucked. They are the Dagwoods of Simpletown.
When you see them, you want to ask, “Where are Moe, Larry, and Curly?” They stand when they should sit and speak when they should listen. They are everywhere. And they always find you, excited to tell you the same story they told you last week. They are the church.
You find yourself avoiding them. And then it occurs to you that you, too, are weird. Your life is often untucked. But you realize and rejoice that God came to love untucked people. And when you mistreat these untucked people, you are really mistreating Jesus.
Jesus said, “Whatever you do for the least of these, you did for me” (Matthew 25:45).