Loving the Unlovely

Harvie Conn was a missionary in Korea. And Harvie was trying to reach prostitutes for Christ. And in the Asian culture, prostitutes had a far lower status than prostitutes do in other societies. And Harvie couldn’t break through, because when he offered the love of Christ, they said, ‘sorry, Christ would never have anything to do with me. You don’t understand. I am an absolute…I’m scum.’ Finally, one day Harvie said, “Let me tell you the doctrine of predestination. Let me tell you the doctrine of election.”

‘Our God doesn’t love you because you’re good…doesn’t love you because you’re moral… doesn’t love you because you’re humbler…doesn’t love you because you’re surrendered. He actually just chooses people and sets His love on you and loves you just because He loves you. That’s how you’re saved.’

And the prostitute said, ‘What?!!

Harvie: ‘Yes!!”

She said, ‘You mean He just loves people like that?’

Harvie: ‘Yes.’ ‘Well, how do I know if He loves me?’

Then Harvie said, ‘When I tell you the story of Jesus dying for you, does that move you?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Do you want Him?’ ‘Yeah!’ ‘You aren’t capable of wanting Him IF He wasn’t wanting you! You aren’t capable of loving Him unless He was loving you.’ And Harvie found that prostitutes started coming to Christ because they got a radical new cultural identity

Editor’s Note: You can access the entire sermon here

The next time you're signing your name at the DMV or another U.S. Government office, you probably won't notice the black pen in your hand. It, after all, is exactly like the dozens of other black pens you've used in post offices, courthouses, and other buildings throughout your adult life. You certainly won't think there's much of a story behind the unobtrusive implement that, likely as not, is chained to the well-worn desk you've been waiting to stand at.

But like everything, those pens have a story. For over 55 years, those Skilcraft pens have been assembled by blind factory workers in Wisconsin and North Carolina. Each year they make nearly four million pens. The pens must meet rigorous government specifications: to write continuously for a mile, and within temperature swings from 40 below zero to 160 degrees Fahrenheit. The standard length of the pen has helped lost Navy pilots navigate by map. Stories say that the pen can be used as a two-inch bomb fuse, or for emergency tracheotomies. It can write upside down. It costs less than 60 cents (when purchased in quantity).

The pen has a rich, fascinating history, woven together with war, peace, postage, bureaucrats, spies, work, and play. And you'd never know it to look at it.

Much like many of us. In every room, every single person has a story, a rich, fascinating history that few of us ever think to ask about. If we did, we'd be floored, astounded. We'd see each other differently, and with more respect. Just like you'll see that pen differently the next time you pick it up.

New York Times columnist David Brooks writes:

A few years ago, I was having a breakfast meeting in a diner in Waco, Texas, with a stern, imposing former teacher named LaRue Dorsey. I wanted to understand her efforts as a community builder because of my work with Weave, an organization I co-founded that addresses social isolation. I was struck by her toughness, and I was a bit intimidated. Then a mutual friend named Jimmy Dorrell came into the diner, rushed up to our table, grabbed Mrs. Dorsey by the shoulders and beamed: “Mrs. Dorsey, you’re the best! You’re the best! I love you! I love you!”

I’ve never seen a person’s whole aspect transform so suddenly. The disciplinarian face Mrs. Dorsey had put on under my gaze vanished, and a joyous, delighted nine-year-old girl appeared. That’s the power of attention.

Each of us has a characteristic way of showing up in the world. A person who radiates warmth will bring out the glowing sides of the people he meets, while a person who conveys formality can meet the same people and find them stiff and detached.

The first point of my story is that you should attend to people in the warm way Jimmy does and less in the reserved way that I used to do. But my deeper point is that Jimmy is a pastor. When Jimmy sees a person — any person — he is seeing a creature with infinite value and dignity, made in the image of God. He is seeing someone so important that Jesus was willing to die for that person.

For Uwe Holmer, a German pastor, the question wasn’t simple. But it was clear.

The one-time East German dictator Erich Honecker was asking for his help. Honecker had long been an enemy of the church, who had also personally harried and harassed Holmer’s own family for years.

But now the Communist leader had been pushed from power, driven from his home, turned out of a hospital onto the street—and he was asking the Lutheran church to take him in. At one point, Holmer found himself praying for Erich Honecker. He knew how much power the Communist leader had, how he was praised everywhere he went, and how bad that must be for his soul.

Holmer had to decide what he believed. He knew what the answer was.

“Jesus says to love your enemies,” he explained to his neighbors at the time. “When we pray, forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us—“we must take these commands seriously.”

The evangelical minister accepted the deposed dictator into his home in January 1990 and cared for him and his wife Margot for two and a half months. The action shocked Germans, East and West. The 40-year division of the country had just collapsed, and as the Cold War came to a surprising end, the German people didn’t know how they should treat those on the other side.

The until-then unknown pastor offered one bold answer: forgiveness and hospitality. Bitterness, Holmer said, is “not a good starting point for a new beginning among our people.”

Protestors arrived to yell at the minister and demand punishment for Honecker. “No grace for Honecker!” one sign said. Holmer reminded his neighbors of a statue of Jesus in town with Matthew 11:28: “Come to me, all you who are weary … and I will give you rest.” He reminded them of the Lord’s Prayer, asking God to forgive them as they forgave others.

The Rev. Fred Shuttlesworth, a pastor in Birmingham, Ala., in the 1950s, was called by the historian Andrew Manis “one of the least known but most impactful figures in the civil rights movement.” He was, by his own estimate, arrested in peaceful protests some 30 to 40 times. His house was bombed with his whole family inside one Christmas Eve. His church was subjected to three different bombing attempts

On September 9, 1957, President Eisenhower signed the Civil Rights Act and lawyers sought injunctive relief to force Arkansas to integrate Central High in Little Rock. On that very day, Shuttlesworth organized the integration of Phillips High School in Birmingham, driving his own two children to the school to enroll them.

He was met by a white mob that beat him with baseball bats, chains, and brass knuckles. As he was beginning to lose consciousness, Shuttlesworth recounts that “something” said to him: “You can’t die here. Get up. I have a job for you to do.” In the hospital later that day, a reporter asked Shuttlesworth what he was working for in Birmingham. He responded: “For the day when the man who beat me and my family with chains at Phillips High School can sit down with us as a friend.”

You've never heard of Tanuja Ghale. She's a fellow believer, salon owner, and evangelist in Kathmandu, the capital of Nepal. One day she saw a young woman on the streets of that city and told her she was beautiful. Inexplicably, the woman began to weep. That morning, her husband had beaten her and told her she was, "… the worst woman in the world."

When Tanuja tells women they're beautiful, they're shocked, and want to know what beauty she sees in them that their loved ones have missed. Then those women may be ready to hear that God loves them unconditionally. Our words can have such a profound positive (or negative!) impact.

In the film Wonder, which is based on the novel with the same name, a 10-year-old boy named Auggie was born with a rare medical facial deformity. Auggie has been home-schooled his whole life. But in fifth grade, his parents make the decision to send Auggie to school. The film chronicles Auggie’s experience of acclimating to his new social environment, getting bullied for the way he looks, and slowly making friends.

The story is told from multiple perspectives, including the story of Auggie’s older sister, Via. Via loves Auggie and watches out for him, but she often feels unseen by her family because of how much attention Auggie requires. And so she adjusts her life around this reality. Via fades to the background and keeps the details of her life hidden from her parents. There’s this poignant moment when Via expresses how much she longs for her mother to cast her gaze fully on her.

And then there’s this scene, where Via is serving as a stagehand as well as the understudy for the lead role in the high school’s production of Our Town. Her parents are in the audience because Via’s best friend has the lead role. But then her friend, who sees an opportunity, pretends to be sick right before the curtain goes up, which thrusts Via onto the stage, while her parents sit in the audience watching her amazing performance.

After the play is over, her family comes backstage, overwhelmed by her performance. And then there’s this moment, where Via looks up, and everything else fades to the background, and her mom is staring her right in the eye, with this look of incredible love and pride. And she simply points at her. In that moment, it’s as if Via is receiving the fulfillment of a fundamental human desire: to be seen, to be known, and to be loved.

The scene can be found here.

Dr. Lisa Iezzoni is a professor of medicine at Harvard. She has done research for 25 years with people who have disabilities, to find out, “What is it like for you to go to a doctor?” She kept hearing stories about doctors’ offices “you can’t get into. Doctors who don’t treat you with respect. Care that is way below standard.”

So, she decided to then ask doctors, “What is it like for you to treat someone with disabilities?” She promised the doctors, “You’ll be anonymous,” and the focus groups were on video, so the doctors couldn’t see that Dr. Iezzoni, who has multiple sclerosis, was sitting in a wheelchair.

The result? Some doctors said their office scales could not accommodate wheelchairs, so they had told patients to go to a supermarket, a grain elevator, a cattle processing plant, or a zoo to be weighed. Some would tell a new patient, “Sorry, the practice is closed.” One specialist said disabled patients take too much time, and they’re a “disruption to clinic flow."

Possible Preaching Angle:

How differently Jesus approaches a person with disabilities (John 9)! He was approachable, empathetic, and affirming.

In his book Hinge Moments, college president D. Michael Lindsay shares about the birth of his oldest daughter, Elizabeth. They quickly knew something wasn’t quite right with her developmentally. When she was four months old, their pediatrician said, “Well, I don’t know what to say, but something is definitely wrong with your little girl.” Lindsay says, “I found it difficult to breathe. Grief overtook us and made it hard to get out even basic words. We prayed hard that our worst fears wouldn’t live themselves out, but we dreaded they would.”

After three years of tests and specialists, Elizabeth was diagnosed with an extremely rare genetic disorder. She is only one of 500 people or so known cases in the world. There is no cure. It involves profound cognitive disability, legal blindness, and many challenges with internal organs.

Lindsay says that parenting Elisabeth has been what he calls a “heavy joy”—filled with profound challenges but also lots of happy moments. It has also taught him and his wife key lessons about being transformed by Christ. Lindsay writes:

Elizabeth is not drawn to fame or self-advancement. She reflects a more authentic way of Christian living, one that is less interested in appearances or achievement. She takes pleasure in simple things—the taste of vanilla ice cream, the thrill of reaching heights in the backyard swing, the delight of listening to songs with a good beat and familiar melody. And Elizabeth is genuinely happy when she pleases her father, clapping for herself when she hears my affirmations.

Having Elizabeth in our family has helped us see the importance of vulnerability and simple obedience to Christ. More importantly, she has demonstrated that “walking in a manner worthy of the Lord” (Col. 1:10) doesn’t rely on superior [knowledge or performance]. Instead, it is a way of being that opens us up to fully pleasing the Lord in our respective callings.

While working in India, Doctor Paul Brand, who pioneered the modern treatment of leprosy, once laid his hand on a patient's shoulder. Then, through a translator, Brand informed the man about the treatment that lay ahead. To his surprise, the man began to shake with muffled sobs.

Doctor Brand asked his translator, “Have I done something wrong?” The translator quizzed the patient and reported, “No, doctor. He says he is crying because you put your hand around his shoulder. Until you came here, no one had touched him for many years.”

When people like Maria Garza are released from the Logan Correctional Center in central Illinois, the staffers there don’t usually want to see them return. But in Garza’s case, they were willing to make an exception.

During her time there, Garza was enrolled in the Northwestern Prison Education Program, earning a bachelor’s degree. But since they didn’t want her release to interfere with her education, she was allowed to return to the classroom via Zoom. In her chemistry class, she’s the only one doing the experiments from home.

According to NPEP program director Jennifer Lackey, Maria was their first student to earn early release while in the program. The Illinois Department of Corrections says that most prison education programs like NPEP are so new that the directors have yet to figure out protocols for re-entry because so few of the inmates qualify for it.

One of the few other prison education programs that address re-entry is North Park University and Theological Seminary, which offers a master’s in Christian ministry through the Stateville Correctional Center. Program director Vickie Reddy says of the four students who have made re-entry during the program.

Garza is grateful to maintain the connection with her classmate. She said, “To me, it’s kind of like a comfort. There are people who would say that once they leave [prison] they detach themselves from everything. But it’s hard to detach yourself from the people that understand what you’re going through.”

Possible Preaching Angles:

1) Loving others; Loving the Unlovely - When we do our best to care for incarcerated people, we are demonstrating God's love for the lost and broken. 2) Perseverance; Overcoming – Through perseverance it is possible to overcome failure and achieve goals.

12-year-old Brody Ridder arrived home from school with a nearly empty yearbook, only managing to acquire the signatures of two teachers and two classmates despite asking for more. Ridder decided to sign his own yearbook with a note to himself: "Hope you make some more friends.”

Ridder's mom, Cassandra Ridder, had reached her breaking point. Her son's message to himself was a reflection of months’ worth of bullying her son experienced at school in a Denver suburb. Brody's hurt and pain inspired her to share a message with the parent's Facebook group for the school:

My poor son. Doesn't seem like it's getting any better. 2 teachers and a total of 2 students wrote in his yearbook. Despite Brody asking all kinds of kids to sign it. So, Brody took it upon himself to write to himself. My heart is shattered. Teach your kids kindness.

After sharing the post with the school community, Cassandra posted to her personal Facebook, wanting to keep her friends updated on what was happening. That is when the support exploded; celebrities, companies, parents, kids all reached out online and in real life to show Brody support.

Among those to see Cassandra's message was Paul Rudd, who plays Ant-Man in the hit films Ant-Man and Avengers: Endgame. Rudd FaceTimed Ridder and sent him a handwritten note: “It's important to remember that even when life gets tough that things get better. There are so many people that love you and think you are the coolest kid there is — me being one of them!" Brody also received a signed Ant-Man helmet from the actor.

When Friedrich Stapel went to move the herd of cows under his care, he had no idea they would attract a following. But that’s exactly what happened after he spotted a wild boar piglet, roaming with his cows in his town of Brevoerde, Germany. He theorized that it must have gotten separated from his own kind while crossing a river, but he couldn’t leave the piglet to fend for himself. He said, “To leave it alone now would be unfair.” He nicknamed the piglet “Frieda,” and told the local hunter not to shoot it.

Whether because of the unusual sight of a piglet roaming with cows, or because of Stapel’s act of compassion, word has gathered in the town. You could say Stapel and his herd of cows have attracted a following.

Possible Preaching Angle:

The heart of Jesus is for all people to be brought into God’s family, especially those isolated or traumatized.

In the movie The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, Maggie Smith plays Muriel Donnelly, a cranky British retiree living in a dilapidated hotel in Jaipur, India. She is wheelchair-bound so the hotel staff assigned a Dalit or outcaste woman to care for her.

The woman invites Muriel to her home so that her whole family can meet her. Muriel goes with a translator because the Dalit woman and her family don’t speak English. When the Dalit woman showers Muriel with food and hospitality, Muriel asked the translator why. The translator responds, “Because you have been kind to her.” Mariel shamefully responds, “But I haven’t been kind. “The translator responds, “You’re the only one who acknowledges her. “

For a poor, Dalit woman, the fact that Mariel saw her and talked with her, even though it was more at her, was an acknowledgment of her worth and their common humanity. When we go out as pursuers in eternal relationship with Jesus, we start to see people no one else sees. God’s heart becomes our heart.

Adoption attorney David Anderson wrote in Christianity Today about how it is a privilege for him to help the rare parents who adopt special-needs children. He was particularly moved by the story of Sally and her parents. Anderson writes:

Sally had gone through two heart surgeries in her short life. I talked with her parents, one of whom was almost always at Sally’s crib side. I learned that they had adopted Sally as a newborn even though they knew that there were significant medical risks ahead. When the surgeries came, they did not change their minds about the adoption. Sally’s adoptive parents demonstrated their love to her by being almost constantly present in the hospital room, by talking to her, by bathing her, and by holding her. In years to come, Sally may experience various disabilities, but her parents give every indication that they will continue to love her in a way consistent with their initial choice to adopt her.

I know another couple who adopted three special-needs children from India: one girl had polio in one leg and never walked until she was fitted with leg braces in the States. Another girl had surgery for a cleft palate, and the younger brother needs blood transfusions every three weeks. All these moms and dads did not have to love and adopt the child they chose; they were not compelled to shoulder the extra burden of disabilities. I would have understood if they had said no. But they did not.

We may not want to admit it, but each of us is a special-needs child in our relationship to God. We may not have any significant disabilities in the eyes of this world, but we are often spiritually blind and sick, disobedient, and willful. How can it be that God is there, always waiting, always loving, even when we are unlovable?

While most high school athletes have their family cheering for them on the sidelines, Susan Bergeman’s brother, Jeffrey, is there every step of the way during her 3.1-mile cross country races. For every practice and meet, Susan, 14, runs while pushing Jeffrey, 15, in his wheelchair.

When he was 22 months old, Jeffrey went into sudden cardiac arrest, which led to severe brain damage and a diagnosis of cerebral palsy. It was important to Susan that she find a way to get her brother involved in an activity at their high school, and cross country made sense. She said, "He loves running. I think it helps me get even closer to my brother." When it gets hard running with Jeffrey uphill or over uneven terrain, Susan said she will "push away the pain and focus on him enjoying it.” She added that "hearing everyone screaming and cheering gives me a big adrenaline rush."

You can watch the touching video here.

In the film My Beautiful Stutter, viewers are introduced to Kate Detrick. Kate is a young lady who has learned to live, honestly if not defiantly, with a stutter. She refuses to refer to her way of speaking as an impediment. Instead, she has learned to accept who she is.

In the film, Kate is giving a tour of her room. She has notes written to herself posted around her room reminding her of her uniqueness and value. But she spends most of her tour on a poem written by Erin Schick:

The barn owl communicates with mates and offspring using a complex system of hissing, screeching, squawking, and facial muscle manipulation

Survival is dependent on creating a voice so unique it can be recognized by loved ones in an instant

I argue the cause of my stutter is not neurologic

It’s got to be something deeper

Something desperate to be remembered

This is not a speech impediment

My voice is an instrument,

My stutter its greatest symphony

My speech, composed by God

British radio host Sam Darlaston found a fuzzy surprise when he opened a bag of broccoli from his local grocery store--a caterpillar. But instead of evicting his new furry friend, he decided to take care of it. It turned out that being an ad hoc caterpillar caretaker was just the hobby he needed to pass the time during lockdown in his London apartment.

He told a reporter, “I did my research initially and discovered the exact type of caterpillar/butterfly we were dealing with. I then decided to build him a little home in my (living room) with all the broccoli he wanted.” Darlaston named his caterpillar Cedric, and was planning on maintaining a habitat for one, until another trip to the same store for more broccoli yielded more caterpillars. He said, “The broccoli I’d got as a replacement contained 5 more. And then a 3rd broccoli belonging to my housemate had another one! So, 1 became 7 caterpillars overnight!”

Over a series of tweets, Darlaston conveyed to his audience how each of them eventually became chrysalis and formed cocoons, only to eventually become butterflies and fly away. “I felt a tiny bit sad watching them spread their wings but overall feeling was happiness … I’m just happy at least one of us gets to go out during these times.”

Possible Preaching Angle:

No matter how we’ve arrived or what condition we're in, God loves and receives us into His family. Not only that, but God will continue the work He started in your life, even when others have abandoned you.

Alexa Bjornson and her son Landon had made the plane trip several times, from Las Vegas to Portland to visit Landon’s father. It had become an annual tradition. But this time, Bjornson was sending Landon to fly solo … and she was nervous.

Alexa knows that Landon, who is on the autistic spectrum, could sometimes be perceived as an annoyance from other travelers. So, she sent Landon with a goodwill gesture – a note asking for kindness toward her son, $10 for any potential inconvenience, and her cell phone number.

After the flight touched down in Portland, Bjornson received a text message from Landon’s seatmate, passenger Ben Pedraza. "I was Landon's seat neighbor for his flight to Portland," Pedraza wrote to Bjornson, along with a selfie of himself posing with Landon. "He did ask if we were there yet several times but he was a great travel buddy. He's a great kid and you're a lucky mom." Pedraza also told Bjornson that he would be donating the $10 to Autism-Society.org, in honor of Landon.

“I was so relieved,” said Bjornson, in a Facebook post that was shared over 130,000 times. "There are good humans on the planet that make him feel like it's OK to be himself and not make him feel like an annoyance." While in Oregon, Bjornson said that Landon and his dad planned to share a meal with Pedraza and his family.

Preaching angles: The true measure of our discipleship is not how well we do in times of comfort and convenience, but in times of discomfort and inconvenience. Even small acts of kindness can radiate outward when done with a sincere heart and a desire for connection.

In the days leading up to 9-11, fighting in Afghanistan between local groups and then the Taliban resulted in thousands of refugees pouring down into neighboring Peshawar, Pakistan. There they were squashed into tents and mud hovels in refugee camps in intense heat and poor sanitation. J. Dudley Woodberry and his wife Roberta were working in the refugee camps at the time. Woodbury describes what happened in the camps:

Conditions at one camp were harsher than at the others; so Roberta and her class took school supplies to the students so they had more than just blank slates with chalk. Another group of eight workers imported thousands of sandals for the children who ran around with bare feet on the rough parched ground. But they decided that they would also wash their feet as Jesus had. My daughter-in-law joined the group.

For a week they washed every foot with antibacterial soap, anointed with oil, and silently prayed for the child. Then they gave each of them new sandals, a quilt, and a shawl, plus a small bag of flour for every family. At first the sores, pus, pink eye, and dirt were revolting. But then our daughter-in-law felt a deep love as she silently prayed, “Dear Father, this little girl looks like she does not have anyone to care for her. Let my touch feel to her as if you are touching her. May she remember how you touched her this day, and may she seek after you hereafter. Thank you for those who seek you will find you." Many children looked up and shyly smiled.

Sometime later a teacher in one of the tents used for a refugee school asked her class, “Who are the best Muslims?" A girl raised her hand and replied, “the kafirs" (a term meaning unbelievers that is often used by Muslims for Christians). After the teacher recovered from her shock, she asked, "Why?" The young girl replied, "The Muslim fighters killed my father, but the kafirs washed my feet.”