Come on, sing it: "Let's Go To Church!"

I understand that hurting people hurt other people.  And I'm smart enough to know that we're all hurt or damaged in different ways by others as we go through life.  But, even at my advanced age :) it still hurts when it happens.  I know, I know, grab a box of kleenex and a pacifier and get over it. I'm not quite over it yet, but maybe this'll help.

I had a very bizarre experience tonight.  I met a man some years ago that was without a doubt the most unlovely person I have ever known in my life.  He was a gruff, foul-mouthed, bigot, who repeated stories of his great exploits over and over (though I noticed that most of his stories were from about 1985 backwards).  In my blind obedience to love even the unlovely, I reached out to him in every possible way.  Though he was quick to reject any spiritual overtures I made, we struck somewhat of a friendship; I listened when he repeated the same stories over and over, I smiled at him, Leslie made him brownies on his birthday, and I always took an interest in his physical well-being.  Over the years we made several deals on vehicles and real property (mind you, always suggested by him as some sort of positive, forward-looking option that would be helpful to me).  And we forged a unique bond.  I actually heard him tell other people that I was the only real friend he had.  

Tonight, I sat in his living room as he berated me, calling me a liar, accusing me of hornswoggling him at every turn, taking advantage of him and only taking what I could out of the relationship.  But the part that made me feel the worse was when he said to me, "I wish I'd never met you, my life would have been much better if I never knew you".  I guess you're never really prepared to hear words like that, even from really angry people.  And I really hate that he feels that way.  I'm a pastor for crying out loud, how could anybody turn on me like that, and say such hateful things about me (he typed as the Holy Spirit actually laughed out loud at his question)?  

I'd like to tell you that I handled myself with expert Christ-like aplomb, meeting every verbal smack-down with a serene look on my face, resplendent with the glory of the Lord.  It was...um, kind of like that, but only later.  I am left with this conclusion:  This man is bound and determined to sabotage every relationship in his life, doing all he can to make people actually hate him.  Leslie said, "He probably does that because it's what he feels he deserves". I'm not a head-shrinker, but I'll bet there's more than a little truth in that statement.

I have to be honest, the whole thing made me mad.  I mean really mad.  And I did not leave without unloading a few well constructed sentences that I felt were important to add to the dialogue (by the way, that doesn't really help).  In the end, I encouraged him not to blow up one of the very few relationships he had left, as he had every other relationship in his life of 65 years.  He deferred, and chose to split the sheets.

As I left, I told him that even if he chose to hate me, I still loved him.  He said, "That's your prerogative".  As I walked out the door, he said, "Wait a minute, there's something I want to give you".  He reached over to his piano and handed me an old piece of sheet music, a song written many years ago by Steve Allen called, "Let's Go To Church".

I'm still trying to figure out which one of us thought the gift to be more ironic.