The Hobo

The Hobo

It was a cold winter’s day that Sunday. The
parking lot to the church
was filling up quickly. I noticed as got out of my car fellow church
members were whispering among themselves as they walked in
the church.

As I got closer I saw a man leaned up against the wall outside the
church. He was almost laying down as if he was asleep. He had
on a long trench coat that was almost in shreds and a hat topped
his head, pulled down so you could not see his face. He wore shoes
that looked 30 years old, too small for his feet, with holes all over
them, his toes stuck out. I assumed this man was homeless,
and asleep, so I walked on by through the doors of the

We all fellowshipped for a few minutes, and someone brought up
the man laying outside. People snickered and gossiped but no one
bothered to ask him to come in, including me.

A few moments later church began. We all waited for the Preacher
to take his place and to give us the Word, when the doors to the
church opened.

In came the homeless man walking down the aisle with his head
down. People gasped and whispered and made faces.

He made his way down the aisle and up onto the pulpit where he
took off his hat and coat. My heart sank. There stood our preacher
…he was the “homeless man”.

No one said a word. The preacher took his Bible and laid it on his
stand. “Folks, I don’t think I have to tell you what I am preaching
about today.”

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