Monday Monday

Danny moved to his seat and Billy-Bob stepped to the pulpit. He silently looked over the people and began. “People are born with the ability to breathe. It is completely natural. It is not something we have to learn. The desire to eat and the desire for water are also completely natural. Had we been born on a desert island with no one else around, we would have these abilities. The ability to hate, on the other hand, is something we have to be taught. Someone, be it our parents, our siblings, someone, somebody has to teach us to hate. This is not new. I am certain that in cave-man times, people were taught to hate. One clan would hate another.”
“Hate was something very real in the time of Jesus. It was a fact of life. The Jews hated the Samarians. It was simple. If you were a good Jew, you didn’t associate with Samarians. You didn’t socialize with them. You didn’t do business with them. You certainly didn’t eat. . . or drink with them. Yet, not only did Jesus drink with this Samarian woman, she was the first that he told that he was the Messiah.”
“Right now, this very minute, there are people in this place, in this beautiful church, that you dislike. You notice I didn’t say hate, I said dislike. If there was someone in the congregation that you hated with the fervency that the Jews hated the Samarians, and, the Samarians hated the Jews, it would be simple. You wouldn’t be here today. You would refuse to sit in the same church with a Samarian, or if you were a Samarian, you would not sit in the same church with a Jew.”
Billy-Bob looked around the church smiling.
“Why do some of you look so surprised? This time in church is well known to be the most segregated hour in America. At this very moment, across America, people are sitting with people just like them. Much has changed since Jesus time, but this is not one of them. People are still more comfortable around their own.
“In a way it is almost humorous. I hear it all the time. Someone will say, ‘We have blacks in our church. We have six of them.’ In a way, they’re saying ‘Look at me, I’m a good Christian. I go to church with blacks.’ I believe if the good Christian heard this his response would be simple, ‘Hogwash’. The good Christian would know, that since you see those people as ‘different’, in your heart you are nothing but a bigot and hardly deserve to be called a ‘good Christian’.
“Later in the scripture, the disciples returned and questioned why Jesus would talk with a Samarian woman. Yes, Jesus’ disciples had hate and were amazed that Jesus, a Jew, would even speak to a Samarian. We can only imagine what they said to Jesus, ‘Come on, Jesus, let’s get out of here. These people are Samarians, we don’t want to be around them. We’re better than they are.’ What was Jesus’ response? Not words, but actions. He stayed two more days.”
“Doesn’t being a Christian mean something more than walking into a building once or twice a week and praying to Christ? Doesn’t it mean trying to be more like the example he set for us?”
Danny looked out at the congregation. The discomfort was obvious. Danny looked at Davy. He could see the small smile.
“When that person says he is a good Christian because he goes to church with six blacks, or Hispanics, or whites, or Italians, or whatever it is he doesn’t like. One must wonder how he would react if that number six suddenly changed to sixty. . . or even six hundred. Would he be there? We know the answer to that. It would have been easy for Jesus to say, ‘Look at me, I talked with a Samarian woman. I am a good person, admire me.’ It was a bit different when he stayed two days. Didn’t that say something entirely different? And, just a small hint. . . Those other people in your church. . . if you've counted them, you are a bigot.
“One time, a great preacher, a true man of God was delivering a sermon in a southern white church. I have no idea if he arranged it, or it happened on it’s own, but it doesn’t matter, because that day there was one lone little black girl sitting in the congregation. During his sermon he told the people to look in the direction of a person they hate. Every eye turned to the little black girl sitting alone near the front. Some even turned completely around in their seats to look at the little girl. Then, the preacher asked them to think. ‘Does this person they hate so intently feel love the same way they do? Does this person they hate love their family the same way they love their family?’ A few heads began to turn away from the little girl. The preacher asked, ‘did the one they hate feel fear the same way they do?’ more heads turned away. Finally, he asked, ‘Does that person want to be loved like you do?’ Suddenly, every head was facing forward. Not an eye was on the little girl. And, after church, the same people who had avoided, or entirely ignored, the little girl at the first of the service couldn’t get to her and welcome her quickly enough.”
Danny caught Davy mouthing “Whew”.
Billy-Bob continued. “Now I ask you to look toward that person that, I won’t say hate, I will say had rather not be around, and ask yourself if that person feels love the same way you do?” He was silent for a moment before he said, “Does that person love their family the same way you love your family?” After a pause, Billy-Bob said, “Does that person feel fear the same way you do?” Then, after a long pause, Billy-Bob asked, “Does that person want to be loved the same way you want be loved?”
In that huge church, not a sound could be heard except Billy-Bob’s soft footsteps as he moved away from the pulpit. Danny looked at Davy. Davy picked up a piece of paper and fanned himself. Danny nodded agreement with Davy.