"Drunk at Church"

Thanks to Andy Gahagan for this thoughtful reflection...

"Drunk at Church"

I was privileged to sit next to a drunk man in church tonight. Not so uncommon at my church. You see, I go to a church in the city that does a lot of ministry for homeless people. There are all sorts you would see at this church, and I love it. It's real. It's raw. It's uncomfortable. It's genuine.

So this guy comes in and sits down next to me at the beginning of the service. As soon as he sat down the alcohol smell wafted quickly in my direction. I wasn't uncomfortable with this. I thought, if he's drunk, this is a great place for him to be. Unfortunately, these thoughts were laced with superiority and a better than mentality to some degree. But that would change. This guy wasn't a quiet drunk per se, he was rather expressive. As we had an upbeat time of singing he danced around and flailed his hands in a "socially unacceptable" way. He didn't care, but I felt a little uncomfortable for him; embarrassed for him, which I had no right to be. He would turn and stare at people singing then just belt out, "Praise the LORD!" or give a handshake. As I'm observing this drunk guy worship God, some of my first instincts were to analyze him from a sociological/counseling perspective since that is the kind of work I've done for years. But as the service went on, I started to realize he might be having more of a meaningful experience, all sauced up, than I was. I was sitting there like so many others do in church, pretending like I have it all together in many ways and not allowing myself to really experience what was going on in the service, while this drunk guy was unabashedly and uninhibitedly being real and expressing what he felt.

The singing time was over and we all sat down to hear the meditation from the Pastor. No one of course talks during the sermon right? Not tonight. At least twice during the sermon the drunk guy turned to me, thrust out his hand and said, "The peace of God be with you man." By this point I was loosening up and enjoying sitting next to him, becoming more and more glad God had placed him in my life tonight. I shook his hand and whispered back, "And also with you". Then there was communion time, which again, no one usually talks during. Again, it would be different tonight. When I sat down from having gone up to take communion, the drunk guy asks me, "How long have you been coming here?" I told him it had been about 5 months and asked how long for him. He replied, "Three weeks and I love it man. It's different here", and with tears welling up in his eyes he continued, "I love it man. I fucking love it here. I want to bring my friends and family". I only hope my face didn't show what was going on in my mind. "WHAT???? You just said what??? You can't swear in church; and you especially can't say THAT word!! And we just got back from communion!!" Again, my judgments took over and I forgot all about the love, grace and mercy that were talked about in the last half hour of the service. But then I smiled and almost started crying with him as I saw the incredible genuineness in his face, welling up from his heart. Was I that grateful for this church? Was I this appreciative of a place to find refuge? Was I experiencing God as deeply as this drunk guy? I don't think I was.

I learned so much from sitting beside this drunk man. So much about myself, about God and about how much I need to let go of my preconceived ideas. I was blessed, my life was changed, by the drunk man in church. His name is ---------, and I glad I took the time to find that out.