Archive for the ‘Soul Tattoo’ Category

Genesis 3:7

Most of us have heard the message, “Jesus died for your sins” more times than we can count.  But do you know Jesus died for your shame?

I would see Suzie everyday at the bank as I made the daily deposit.  As head teller, it was Suzie’s job to “roll out the red carpet” for her business account holders.  But she always made me feel a little uncomfortable.  Her tall, thin frame was crowned with a mop of unstyled, shoulder-length, straw blond hair and minimal cosmetics to cover the hard years her eyes had seen.  Her slightly out of fashion clothes always made her appear socially awkward, but there was something else, something deeper making sadness seep from her soul, especially when she smiled.

Suzie’s husband, John, would occasionally wave to me from his car as he waited to drive her home after work.  John was not the man anyone imagined was waiting for Suzie.  His appearance, I thought, explained a lot about Susie’s demeanor.  He looked like an always dirty ex-convict sitting in the loosing car from a demolition derby as he shouted my name from across the parking lot.  I wondered if he was the abusive drunk he appeared to be.

On the other side of my social railroad tracks, I had become friends with a wealthy, locally prominent businessman.  He invited my wife and me over to his home for a poolside cookout one Saturday afternoon and extended the invitation to any friends we wished to bring with us.  I naturally thought of Suzie and John.  We had been trying to forge a friendship with them, but there seemed to be unspoken obstacles.

I still remember the telephone call I made to invite Suzie and John to the party.  After the explanation for my call and a few moments of the typical niceties I said, “What do you think, can you guys come with us to the party?”  Then I sensed the same, sad vibe coming from Suzie she broadcasted in the bank each day.  Her voice became thin and she sheepishly muttered “Oh, I don’t think we can make it”.  Naturally I pressed her a little and then she said with a nervous laugh, “You see, I have several tattoos I got when I was young, so we don’t like to go to places where they might be seen, like the pool or beach.”  Naively, I attempted to brush off her sadness and said, “It’s o.k., I mean it’s not like we’ve never seen tattoos before.”  “You don’t understand,” she said, “I have a lot of them and some of them aren’t very nice.”  Nervously, I replied, “Oh, I understand.  Well, I guess I’ll see you later at the bank.”

In that moment, my Jesus wasn’t big enough for Suzie.  Not “Jesus”, my Jesus; that little man who is sometimes barely recognizable when compared to the Son of God.  My Jesus wasn’t big enough to cover Suzie’s shame.  He wasn’t even big enough to cover mine.

What if Suzie came to your church this Sunday and sat down next to you?  What if her unfashionable dress wasn’t long enough to cover all of her “not so nice” tattoos?  Would your Jesus be big enough to cover her shame?  Is He big enough to cover yours?

I wonder how Jesus would have handled my phone conversation with Suzie.  I asked Him about it and I’m sure I heard him say, “Suzie, I know you have tattoos and I know some of them aren’t very nice.  But it’s o.k.  We all have tattoos and some of them aren’t very nice either.  That’s why I’m inviting you to the party.”