Last night I had the privilege of sitting beside one of my best friends as we watched a number of men and women worshipping through poetry—poems that they had written, rap that they’d composed…it was fascinating. The audience and the participants were largely African American. I confess, I think I’ve grown up with a very ethnocentric, white Baptist view of what worship looks like, of what it is or is not…and last night was eye opening on several levels.

I remember watching one girl in particular—watching her more closely, perhaps, because I know something of her history, something of what she has struggled with, something of the ways in which she’s fallen in the past—and as I heard the words coming out of her mouth, I wondered to myself if this was her heart, or if this was simply words that she thought others wanted to hear.

The words of a Casting Crowns song came to mind as I watched: does anybody hear her? Does anybody see? Does anybody even know she’s going down today under the shadow of our steeple, with all the lost and lonely people, searching for the hope that’s tucked away in you and me…

How often do we force people to pretend to be what they are not in order to win the approval of those who don’t even really care? This is such a diminished picture of the rich reality of what relationships within the body of Christ ought to be…and yet it’s tragically commonplace.

I realized as I watched that I have often been unfair in judging people by their failures rather than choosing to value them and focus on their strengths. And I wondered to myself how often I really see people for who they truly are…