Everyone Welcome?

The South is known for its hospitality. For the most part, people are generally very welcoming and inviting. (I intentionally noted that this statement is true “for the most part”… we all have at least one person that we know that shatters the stereotype by being a grouch.)
When you see a doormat that has “Welcome” on it in large letters, it’s more than being just a place to clean your boots; it’s a declaration that you are welcome here. That is why most churches have them; to publicly declare that whoever you are, wherever you are from, whatever burdens that you may carry, we have a place for you.
That’s nice… but is it true?
Recently, I watched a video testimony of a young man in the Northeastern United States. He was a professional in the legal field, black, formerly a gay man, and an active member of the LGBTQ+ community. (So far, we have nothing in common.) But, he went on to explain that he had gotten saved.
I don’t mean that he responded to a well-worded and emotional invitation; I mean radically and totally SAVED and delivered from sin and the lifestyle associated with it. He was a new creation in Christ Jesus and the former things had passed away. He told how the law firm where he had worked for years, openly supporting LGBTQ+ causes, had fired him for “proselytizing and promoting his newfound faith”; and on his personal social media accounts, I might add.
I was outraged! Then, I asked myself a simple question that humbled me into the dust.
After my first thought of making a short video complaining about this injustice on TikTok (our modern equivalent of semi-anonymous graffiti), the question arose in the back of my mind… Would I want to be seen having coffee with this man? Yes, he was saved, but he still spoke effeminately. And anyone that knew him as a lifelong homosexual, they might think we were meeting up for more than a coffee between new friends. I am from a small town, and if you are too, you know that gossip can get around the whole town by the time your engine turns over.
I forgot about my outrage at some law firm whose name I can no longer remember. I was disgusted with myself. How could I even think such a thing, let alone allow it to possibly keep me from a new brother just because he used to sin differently than I did?
Then I did something that almost always makes every situation worse: I read the rest of the comments under his video.
Not all of the comments from other Christians were encouragement or rejoicing that someone had been taken from the kingdom of darkness.

“Well, IF he has really repented…”

“He still talks like a gay man…”

“Doesn’t sound genuine to me…”

“Being a bit dramatic…”

My first response and my attitude were wrong all right, but I was not alone. It became apparent that several of us in the Body of Christ have subconsciously added some extra conditions for salvation (or at least acceptance by the Christian community): You have to look and act in such a manner that we find socially acceptable, otherwise, you will be excluded.
We all have our preferences, and different groups have their own particular cultures that have developed. But are they some sort of a verification system for who is a “true believer” and who is not?
I think they certainly can be.
I could not get this whole scenario and the ensuing internal debate out of my mind. Now, with embarrassing clarity, I began to see these invisible barriers that I had erected; little checkpoints on the road to heaven that must be passed if anyone is to be allowed inside.
Jesus said that he set before us an open door that no man can shut (Revelation 3:8). But I and some of my fellow believers had installed turnstiles to make sure that not just anyone can walk in and sit down.
How can I focus so much on evangelism and applaud and support the efforts of others that spread the gospel, if I am unwilling to sit next to those that actually respond to it on the church pew Sunday morning? Is my seat at the VIP table; only dignitaries need apply?
Did Jesus? Did Paul?
As a matter of fact, no, they did not.
When Paul noticed Peter refusing to eat with the Gentiles in the presence of other Jews, he
“…withstood him to the face, because he was to be blamed” (Galatians 2:11).
And Jesus?
He was so often seen with the “wrong crowd” that “…the Pharisees and scribes murmured, saying, This man receiveth sinners, and eateth with them” (Luke 15:2).
So, it would appear that I am not doing a very thorough job of following Paul as he follows Christ (1 Corinthians 11:1). At least, not if I think it can make me look bad.
Maybe you haven’t done that; it could be that it is just an attitude adjustment that I need to make.
But I want you to consider this the next time you are out witnessing; going into the homeless shelters or the jails, and ask yourself: Would I feel comfortable inviting this person to my church? Not to sit in the back, but right beside me. How about lunch afterwards? Would it be potentially uncomfortable to be seen with them in public?
And hypothetically, after some time, could you welcome this person into your family?
I know that lunch and marrying your son or daughter are two very extreme differences, but it is a good question; a HARD question that only you can answer.
But the more that I consider it, the more abundantly clear is the fact that heaven has gates but no fences inside; no matter how much we might like to put them there.
And if someone is not welcome with the same honor and dignity that everyone else is, why do I invite them?