“For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.” (Luke 19:10)

What a beautiful purpose statement: to seek and save the lost. That’s what Jesus did for me.

The context of this statement is the story of Zacchaeus, the diminutive tax collector. The shock, possibly scandal of a tax collector being forgiven of his sins, precipitated this declaration.

I can imagine that onlookers had the spirit that tax collectors were beyond salvation. The reason I can imagine that is that it is what I still do. This hard spot in my heart is revealed at moments I don’t expect; just like it was last week. I was subbing in a class at a “difficult” school. When I entered, two boys were huddled on the floor near the Chromebook cabinet with their devices tethered to the charging cords.

These kids were dirty, had bad haircuts, dressed in tattered clothes, and were out of place. I consider myself pretty good at interacting with kids from all backgrounds, but God helped me see that there is still some work to be done in my heart.

As the day progressed, I had several interactions with one of the boys; the other was out of the class most of the day for behavioral counseling or academic help. I had repeatedly corrected my one friend who was struggling to stay on task. He kept talking with the kids near his new workstation. He kept switching tabs on his device to look at dragons. He couldn’t find the required paragraph to complete his assignment. It was one thing, then another.

Finally, enough was enough. I told him he had to return to his desk, which was in a pod with other kids. He didn’t want to be with them, and they didn’t want to be with him. He figured out a compromise, and the next thing I knew, he was sitting at a table with me.

Again, I think I am objectively good at interacting with kids from every economic, social, and ethnic background. But the critical spirit can hide undetected deep in the heart. After he sat down beside me, he seemed to lock in on his work. I noticed how unbelievably dirty he was. Head to toe. Finger tip to finger tip. I recalled about 10 minutes earlier when he sneezed a big blob of goo on his hand, then discreetly ate it. Even while having a pleasant conversation with him, my mind was making note of all the things “wrong” with him.

I stopped chatting with him because he was locked in on his work, and I wanted him to stay locked in. He couldn’t abide the silence, though, and started humming, then softly singing “Jesus loves me, He who died, / Heaven’s gate to open wide. / He will wash away my sin, / Let His little child come in.”

Admittedly (and to my shame!), I was surprised such a “troubled” kid would know that song. I asked, “Where do you know that song from?” He answered matter-of-factly, “church.” “You go to church?” I asked with shock, but carefully spoken so as not to reveal the judgmental spirit that had just surfaced from a dark spot in my heart.

He eventually told me he goes to Freeway Church, which is a ministry that I love, love, love! I have had several students from Freeway, and they were always among my best, most dedicated students. Freeway is a ministry for folks who have been incarcerated and/or struggle with addiction. And this kid, singing Jesus Loves Me, was a fruit of Freeway. Hallelujah!

In the very best way and with the greatest respect, I describe Freeway as a bit of an old-fashioned, hard-preaching, repent and be saved ministry. They offer tremendous community for walking through life post-incarceration and post-addiction or on the way to post-addiction. And they believe “The Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.”

I must have been red-faced as I realized the judgmental spirit that I had toward that kid. I must have been like those folks around Zacchaeus, thinking he was too far gone.

Father, thank you for rescuing sinners, me included, regardless of the package they come in. Please forgive me for focusing so intently on the external package of this particular kid and for letting me hear those glorious words “Jesus Loves Me.” Thank you for this lesson. Please help me genuinely learn from it.