I visited a local church the other day. The service was not bad, but it was pretty standard fare.

While I was sitting in the service, singing the songs and listening to the sermon, I kept thinking about some of my friends, friends who were not Christians. I imagined how they might have reacted to the service. Would they have liked the music, understood the sermon, or made sense of communion? Would they have concluded that there was something in this service for them?

The service made sense to me. After all, I know all the lingo, the code words, and the meaning of the symbolism. All of these things have significance for me. But what about my friends?

During the sermon, the pastor made a rather shocking confession. He meant it as a confession, not just some offhanded statement; he knew he had somehow missed something important in his life. You could sense his remorse.

“All of my friends are Christians. I don’t have any non-Christian friends.” He was trapped in a world of religious activity, insulated from the thoughts and actions of most of the world. I have some knowledge of this pastor. He is a kind and caring man.

I wondered how many others in the room could have made the same confession. For many of us, developing relationships with non-Christians is uncomfortable. We only want to be surrounded by like-minded men and women who encourage us to grow and mature in our faith. Friendship with non-Christians is just too hard.

But Jesus was a friend of sinners. . .