7th February 2021
God is the God of the broken, of the victims, he sees every tear they shed and collects them in a bottle.
God is the God of the unconventional, who do things “the wrong way” he loves their passion and their spirit, he loves their heart and their love.
God is the God of gay people, and transgender people; he made them all beautifully in His own image, how he intended them to be. He weeps at how they’re treated.
God is the God of the “benefit scrounger” and the “dole dosser” he is angry with those who refuse to share with them, and appreciates their small offerings.
God is the God of women who like to have lots of sex with lots of different people, he looks at their hearts, not their hymens and considers them as pure and holy as virgins (who he is also the God of)
God is the God of the weirdo’s, he bids them to join him, to hang out with him, he calls them to friendship when nobody else does.
God is the God of the teenage mum, he was once the child of one. He calls her “honoured among women”
God is the God of the divorced woman, he weeps for her heartbreak and demands she be treated with dignity and respect.
God is the God of the loser, the screw up. When he looks at them he sees his very good creation, his masterpiece.
God is the God of the strumpet, the harlot, the ‘psycho bitch’ the home-wrecker and the slut. He doesn’t apportion blame or dig on revenge, he doesn’t see what the world sees, he sees his little girl.
God is the God of the uppity woman, the gob-shite, the opinionated, hysterical, too big for her boots, never off her soapbox, stroppy, feisty, scary loudmouth. He loves her quest for justice and doesn’t believe that women should be seen and not heard.
God is the God of the short tempered, foot in mouth brigade. He chose one of them to head up his church.
God is the God of the tattooed, swears like a trooper, loves a dirty joke, loud, brash, common. He grew up in Nazereth and hung out with well ‘ard fishermen. God isn’t impressed by class or nice manners, he sees our hearts.
God is the God of the addict
The God of the depressed
The God of the angry gothy teenager drinking cider in the park. Of the hippy, the tree-hugger, the businesswoman, the home-maker, the politician, the anarchist, the prisoner.
He sees them, he sees them all in their despair and all their glory, their sin and sorrow and beauty and holiness. Just like he does the great and the good, the nice and the pious.
God doesn’t see ‘outreach projects’
God doesn’t see ‘those people’
God doesn’t see ‘sinners’ and ‘saints’ or ‘worldly’ and ‘holy’ or ‘clean’ and ‘unclean’
God doesn’t see people who are “welcome in the church but not leadership material”
He doesn’t set conditions or benchmarks or targets, he doesn’t ask anyone to sign purity contracts or lifestyle agreements or statements of faith.
He doesn’t see ‘not good enough’, or ‘fallen short’, or ‘needs to change’.
He sees humans.
Beloved, Created, Broken, Beautiful, Forgiven, Loved.
All of us.