Across the street from the college campus is a well-dressed, very conservative church. They want to develop a ministry to the students but are not sure how to go about it.
On one Sunday, Bill, a brilliant, profound and very, very bright college student, decides to go to the church.
He walks in with his usual wardrobe (literally his wardrobe for his entire four years of college) – T-shirt with holes in it, jeans and no shoes – and his wild hair.
The service has already started when Bill arrives, so he starts down the aisle looking for a seat. The church is completely packed and he can’t find a seat.
Bill gets closer and closer and closer to the pulpit, and when he realises there are no seats, he just sits down on the carpet.
The people look a bit uncomfortable, they are really uptight, the tension in the air is thick, but no one says anything.
About this time, the minister realises that from the back of the church, a deacon is slowly making his way toward Bill.
The deacon is in his 80s, has foxy-silver hair and wears a three-piece suit. A godly man, very elegant, very dignified, very courtly.
He walks with a cane. As he walks toward Bill, everyone is saying to themselves that you can’t blame him for what he’s going to do. How can you expect a man of his age and of his background to understand some college kid on the floor?
It takes a long time for the deacon to reach Bill.
The church is utterly silent except for the clicking of the elderly man’s cane. All eyes are focused on him.
The minister can’t even preach the sermon until the deacon does what he has to do.
The elderly man drops his cane on the floor. With great difficulty, he lowers himself and sits down next to Bill and worships with Bill, so Bill won’t be alone.
Everyone chokes up with emotion.
When the minister gains control, he says, “What I’m about to preach, you may not remember. But what you have just witnessed, you will never forget. Be careful how we live, we may be the only Bible some people will ever read!“