Here’s a neat little reflection by Will Willimon about people who go to church:

“I stand at the front door of the church. It is Sunday. I like to stand here and watch people entering the church. What do they hope to find here? What force has drawn them to this place at an untimely hour of the week? They are different colors, differing social classes, driven from different places around the city, driven here by all sorts of different needs. What unites them?

 Sinners come into the church. Some are still in their mother’s arms. Sleeping, they come, but not of their own volition. They look innocent enough, but they are still sinners.

Though outwardly cuddly and cute, they are among the most narcissistic and self-centered in the congregation. When they wake up, they will cry out, not caring that the rest of us are about important religious business. When they are hungry, they will demand to be fed – now. They neither feel nor accept responsibility for anyone or anything, other than their own desires. Sinners coming into the church, being brought here, not knowing they are sinners, but sinners still the same, not even knowing they are here. Cute, bundled up, placidly sleeping or peevishly screaming – sinners.

Sinners come to church. They are being led by the hand. They do not come willingly. Though they put up a fight an hour ago, a rule is a rule, and there they are. They have said that they hate church…But here they are, sullen, determined not to get anything out of it. They will endure the hour, but all the while will mutter to themselves that they will never put their children through this when they are grown up and have children of their own…Ten years old they are, and they lack experience and expertise in so many areas of life, but in one area of life they are masters. They are sinners.

Sinners come into the church – sullen, slouched, downcast eyes. Out with friends last night until a late hour, the incongruity between here in the morning and there last night is striking. They know it, and it is only one of the reasons why they do not want to be here…more self-aware of their sin than they have been at any other time of their lives. Deep, dark sin. Thoughts. Dirty thoughts. Desire. Carnal thoughts. Things you are not supposed to think about. These thoughts make these sinners very uncomfortable at church. Despite their best efforts to distance themselves from this gathering, see how well they fit in at fourteen.

Sinners come into the church. They are in college. Breaking away, but not completely. They are thinking new thoughts, thoughts beyond youthful hormones, doubting thoughts, calling into question what they once were taught and once believed. Shocking. Maybe they don’t believe. Maybe this is all a sham, a farce and a bunch of religious hooey. Maybe. Maybe they shouldn’t be here. Are they lying? They may lie, but not about this. They are, despite their newfound freedom, slaves, sinners.

Sinners come to church, and they have put on some weight, middle-aged, receding hairlines, “showing some age.” They are holding on tight. Well-dressed, attempting to look very respectable, proper. Youthful indiscretions tucked away, put behind them, does anybody here know? Too many hours billed at the firm. A couple of things tucked away from the gaze of the IRS. A night that wasn’t supposed to happen two conventions ago. These sinners are looking over their shoulders.

They are having trouble keeping things together. These sinners have large mortgages, big responsibilities, growing anxiety, and nearly grown-up kids who won’t do right. There are lots of bills to pay, and many expectations of others to be fulfilled. Maybe that is why there are so many sinners here, maybe they are a majority, these middle of the road, middle aged sinners.

Sinners come in the door of the church. Some of them are walking slowly, beginning to stoop. They didn’t obey the doctor, and now they are paying for it. These sinners are no longer committing the sin of ambition. Theirs are more often the sins of despair, disappointment, resentment, and unfulfilled expectations. And as they settle down into the church pew, they gaze with a mixture of affection and scorn at the younger sinners…

Sinners wearing shoes made in sweatshops by children, making them complicit just by the clothes they wear… Sinners who have lied, cheated, and stole. And sinners who have never lied, never cheated, never stolen, and feel so very good about their goodness. Sinners who don’t lie, don’t cheat, don’t steal, whose only sins are those of pride, smugness and self-righteousness – all sinners.

 Sinners come in the church. The doors at last are closed…The organ begins to play, played by an extremely talented, incredibly gifted artist who is also a sinner…Sinners come into church, and now the chief of them all, the sinner most richly dressed, most covered up, the one who leads, who does most of the talking. Some call him pastor, others preacher, but he knows these titles are purely honorific…Down deep, his primary designation is none other than those he serves. Sinners come into the church…”

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Will Willimon gathers us ALL together, doesn’t he?  And I hope you’ll notice where he gathers us. In the church. At the table. Right here where Jesus comes among us, breaks bread, pours wine and says, “Come and eat.”

And we are faced with the most important question of all:

Where do I find myself in this picture?