Road House

As Jesus was walking along, he saw a man named Matthew sitting at his tax collector’s booth. “Follow me and be my disciple,” Jesus said to him. So Matthew got up and followed him.

  Later, Matthew invited Jesus and his disciples to his home as dinner guests, along with many tax collectors and other disreputable sinners.  But when the Pharisees saw this, they asked his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with such scum?”

  When Jesus heard this, he said, “Healthy people don’t need a doctor—sick people do.” Then he added, “Now go and learn the meaning of this Scripture: ‘I want you to show mercy, not offer sacrifices.’ For I have come to call not those who think they are righteous, but those who know they are sinners.” Matthew 9:9-13

I’m writing this on a Monday evening, its hotter than you know what outside and after a day out there I’m showered up and not going out in that heat again unless there’s an emergency. A good day though, all in all, and yesterday, Sunday, was a day I’ll remember for a long time. Had some church business to attend to in the afternoon which require a few of us from our little country church to travel to a near by city and spend a few hours there. And being the country boy, cowboy at heart type of person I am I had it planned in there to go eat while a fella was near by all those eating establishments. When you live out in the countryside, quite a ways from the city, a fella has to make any trip to town worth it and that’s what I do. But I’ve been itching to try out a place called Texas Road House that I’ve been hearing about allot lately from folks.

Sometimes I wonder how in the world a fella like me can even be considered for ministry and all. Just don’t fit with the regular mold. But when I walked through them doors yesterday into the Road House I was at home! Noisy, peanut shells all over the floor, crowded with a regular folks type of clientel. Now when I’m in a high class restraunt I’m about as uncomfortable as you can get. Here I was relaxed even with the loud country music and hustle and bustle. The waitress durn near had to shout to be heard, instead of some waiter trying to use a fake accent to impress phony people that he was a real high fauluting waiter, but mean while probably goes home and watches All Star Wrestling while drinking a 12 pack of cheap beer. I like real, not fake.

But again, here I am in ministry and I’m more at home in a Road House than some swanky place where the “real ministers” hang out. And the verses above just flowed through me while I was there and afterwords too. And that quiet voice saying, “I died for these folks too.” In my heart its settled, was settled a long time ago really, that the regular folks are my people. I don’t want to put on a fake face and preach fake to people who really don’t care anyhow. I want the underdogs of society. And really they ain’t the underdogs, but it just looks that way the way society is set up nowadays. It seems the underdogs are really he folks that a fella can trust. I know out here in the countryside that is the way it is. Folks give their word and that’s that for that. It ain’t dead, as much as society wants it dead.

I can tell you, at them high class places you won’t see no cowboy folks. But you get to the places where the religious folks look down on and they’re everywhere. Just like in the days of Jesus, and Jesus went into those places and enjoyed Himself. I ain’t saying it, the Bible says it! And who am I to argue with the Bible? Give me the cowboys, give me the ranchers and their families, give me the farmers and anyone else who loves the life out here. Regular folks! People that can understand a sermon about doctoring a calf, about getting hailed out for the year, about high and low cattle prices. Yep, regular folks. I’m looking forward to our next trip to the Road House one of these days!

 

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