I never gave it much thought before, but I have a few tax collectors for neighbors. The other day I went to a house in my neighborhood to introduce myself to the mother of the kids my children play with. I heard strange music coming from the garage and walked in to find a number of people lounging around, smoking and drinking beer. I told them who I was and who my kids were, and they were all very friendly and introduced themselves as well. One guy introduced himself and his live-in girlfriend. One lady was a divorced mom. One guy had tattoos on his arms. I tried not to breathe in too much of the smoke wafting around, as I imagined my lungs getting black just from being there. Our conversation was pleasant enough, but I was uncomfortable nonetheless. And as I was leaving with an inward sigh of relief, it dawned on me. I was playing the part of the Pharisee, and they were the “tax collectors and sinners.”
TruthNotes 