I like wine and I love Jesus.

I go to church on Saturday evening; this does not mean I don’t honor the Lord on the Sabbath, that I do not keep it holy.

I send my children to public school.  I wear pants.  I have a tattoo.  I drop the occasional colorful word.  Some of my favorite people – in the entire world – are gay.

And still… (wait for it…) I love Jesus.

I recently spoke with a group that would like to invite me to speak at an upcoming event, but they are unable to because I mention wine on my blog.

Apparently there’s a pretty vocal group out there that’s bothered by my ‘alcoholism.’

(Mind you, I am the softest lightweight you’ll ever meet.  I don’t like the feeling of inebriation; I like the taste of wine.   Even more, I like the feel of a wineglass in my hand at a dinner party.  That’s really not the same as being a lush.)

Here’s what I’d like to say to anyone who might not hear the whole story:

I would have said yes, and I would have been honored, even if wine is a hangup for you.  

We can talk about my tatt if it’s distracting to you.  
I chose a word drawn directly from biblical text, borne of a most sacred, holy encounter.  
We can talk about that. 

Honestly, we can talk about anything.  I’m in.

The truth is, we don’t have to believe all the same things  or share all the same convictions if we are to share a story, an evening, a weekend.  

I would have been deeply honored to join you.

Legalism is an ugly monster.  It’s ‘do this; don’t do that.’ It’s ‘don’t drink, don’t dance, don’t sing too loud or stay out too late.’  It’s ‘God loves us; God hates them.’

And most sad to me: legalists often don’t know that they are.  They just believe strongly in rules, rules, rules.

Here’s the truth: Jesus loves you. 

Anything else you’ve been told – anything at all – is a lie.

I’m sorry someone lied to you.  And I raise my glass to grace.  


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