at starbucks

There are two men, about my age, sitting on the couch across the room. They are looking dreamily at each other, one playing with the other's perfectly-groomed hair. The one with the hair throws his head back and laughs heartily, a laugh reminiscent of Mozart's in the film Amadeus. The other rolls his eyes, his broad grin betraying his feigned annoyance.

I'm taught two completely different things, from the same people - people who claim to be both intolerant of "sin," and full of nothing but compassion for "sinners." People who are intolerant of what they don't condone, by the word of God - maybe more accurate would be to say what they don't understand, what I don't understand.

How would Christ approach these men, men made in His own image? Would he shun their love as unnatural, dispicable, an abomination? Or would He, being the source of all that is full of love, feel the corners of his mouth twitching upward, contently witnessing the joy of human companionship?

Interestingly enough, nothing about these questions makes me less inclined to stare at them from my sheltered armchair.