His name was Bill. He had wild hair, wore a T-shirt with holes in it, blue jeans and no shoes. This was literally his wardrobe for his entire four years of college.
Bill was actually brilliant. He was kind of esoteric, with an IQ right off the charts. He became a Christian while he was attending college. Across the street from the campus was a very conservative church, which had wanted to develop a ministry to the students, but wasn’t sure how to go about it. One day Bill decided to go there.
He walked in wearing jeans, a tattered T-shirt, wild hair and no shoes. The service had already started, but the church was completely packed and he couldn’t find a seat. So Bill went searching. By now the prim, proper and well-heeled congregation was getting a bit uncomfortable, but no one said anything. Bill got closer and closer to the pulpit, and when he realized there were no seats, he simply sat down, right there in the aisle.
By now, the people were really uptight, and the tension in the air was thick. Then a church deacon rose and slowly made his way toward Bill. The deacon was in his eighties, with silver-gray hair, a three-piece suit and a gold pocket watch. He was known in town as a godly man, who was elegant, dignified and courtly. As he approached Bill, everyone said to themselves, “You can’t blame him for what he’s going to do”.
The church was utterly silent, except for the clicking of the old man’s cane. All eyes were focused on the drama unfolding. It was if the whole congregation held their breath. Even the minister watched silently as the deacon moved down the isle. The church elder stopped beside Bill, looked down at him, set his cane against the pew, and with great difficulty, lowered himself to sit next to him, so Bill wouldn’t be alone.
Eyes teared up with emotion. When the minister gained control of his own feelings, all he could choke out was, “What I’m about to preach, you’ll never remember. But, what you have just seen, you’ll never forget.”