You kids think getting drunk is so cool and grown up. Well I'm here to tell you, it's not cool. It's the opposite of cool! A drunk person has no friends, no self-respect, no concern for others, and probably most frightening of all - no direct line to Jesus Christ almighty. It's true!
"Oh, but Pastor Mike," I can hear you saying, "you told me that my lord and savior Jesus Christ Almighty was always by my side!" Yes, I did say that. And if I happened to touch you in a way that was at all inappropriate while saying it, I apologize. But children, Jesus does not abide a drunkard.
Let me say that again so you can hear it through your ipod eardrum deteriorators:
Jesus hates a drunkard!
I learned this lesson myself through painful personal experience. For I was once like you! Yes. I thought being drunk on wine coolers and clear malt beverages was the cat's meow. I would get together with my friends and drink several drinks, and like you, I felt more personable, funny and attractive. I thought, "Surely Jesus walks with me through these times, as I can see two sets of footprints in the vomit and debris." But I was as wrong as wrong can be.
One night I awoke from a drunken nap in a Greyhound bus station ladies restroom, with my pants around my ankles and my face pressed up against the base of a rusty metal toilet (ladies rooms are filthy, I tell you!). I knew I needed help because I could not stand up. The four Zimas that I had happily consumed had me on the ropes.
So I did what any of us would do - I called out HIS name. "Jesus," I wailed, "help me to stand and remove myself from this horrible predicament!" I waited for His response. And waited, and waited. Nothing. This confused me, so I pulled myself up to a listing, half-seated position, leaned against the metal stall door and cried again, "Dear Jesus! Please help me! I need you now more than I have ever needed you!"
And do you know what happened next?
A large black man entered the ladies room, forced open the door of the stall and dragged me - pants still around my ankles - out through the lobby and into the street. He literally threw me into the gutter, which was full of dirty slush, as it had snowed that morning, but the weather became unseasonably warm later in the day, causing the snow to melt into a foul, big city soup, and there I was, marinating in it.
Two people walked by and paused briefly to laugh at me. Laugh at me! They did not extend a helping hand or offer a kind word, they only pointed and walked away, still laughing. Finally a kind stranger took pity on me, helped me to my feet, pulled up my trousers and leaned me against the bus station wall. "Let me get you a cab," he said, his eyes red and glistening with compassion, "you wait here."
After what seemed like hours, a taxicab pulled up to the curb and I stumbled in. "9 West 7th Street," I slurred, "and step on it!" The driver sighed and drove me home. When we stopped in front of my building, I reached for my wallet to pay the fare, but my wallet was gone! I told the driver to wait while I went to my tiny, dingy apartment to collect his pay. He said he wanted "collateral," and took my expensive Members Only jacket and Chess King platform shoes and balled them up on the front seat. As soon as I stepped out of the cab, he sped off, and I was left alone and shivering, stumbling to the door of the building, where I discovered that my keys were also missing.
Why do I tell you this terrifying story? To frighten you onto a straight and narrow path? No. It is so you will know that one can dwell in the true depths of hell on earth, and still be redeemed.
The next afternoon, with the help of a friendly janitor, I finally made it into my apartment and immediately fell to my knees. "Lord!" I cried, "You have forsaken me!" And then, and only then, did he answer me. "No, my son," he said in a clear and loving voice in my head, "I was there, but you were being an asshole, so I just said, 'whatever,' and left you to your own devices."
And if that is not a lesson for the ages, and a compelling story to convince you to forsake hard drink, I don't know what is. I feel a great sense of relief telling it to you, and I pray that you do not ever suffer as I have.
Thank you.