Kennels & Churches
Kennels and churches are a lot alike.
Each has pedigrees and rescues.
The pedigrees come with registration papers. Bloodlines are mapped out like family trees; achievements polished like trophies. Their worth gets measured by how well they match expectations—how perfectly they embody what their lineage promises. Identities are scripted into stained glass, etched into bricks, engraved onto little brass plates, or printed on programs. The better they perform, the higher their value.
Then there are the rescues.
Their papers may be rap sheets. No dependence on ancestry. No proud heritage. Just a story of being found. Their identity doesn't come from where they've been or what they’ve done, but from who chose them. Their value isn't in their surnames, achievements, or choices—it's in the lengths someone traveled to bring them home.
Kennels keep these two groups separate. Makes sense, right? Different breeds, different purposes, different price tags.
Churches? Well, that's where it gets interesting.
We say we don't separate them. We preach that everyone's welcome, that we’re all the same. But watch closely on Sundays. Notice where people sit. See who gets invited into the discussions. Note whose opinions are heard. Who’s making decisions and calling shots behind the scenes?
For the pedigrees, Sundays are field trials. They’re building their value. They’re earning their rewards. They’re measured and measuring by what gets done. One eye watching others. The other glancing at the mirror.
The rescues? They’re serving with gratitude. Their value lies in their rescue. They’ve been chosen. There’s nothing to earn, yet they share what they have. Both eyes fixed on their rescuer.
Pedigrees and rescues are equally loved. Yet, truth is both beautiful and heartbreaking as the pedigree's trophy becomes her anchor. The more she depends on her spiritual resume, the more she distances herself from the very grace that makes rescue possible.
Pride, you see, is the one thing that can't be rescued. It must be surrendered.
Because here's the secret that levels the field: we're all rescues. The pedigree, with his impressive lineage, stretched out by the hearth and the mutt, with his rap sheet, found sleeping behind a dumpster—need the same thing. Both need someone to come looking for them, to choose them, to bring them home.
The only difference?
Some of us know we need rescuing.
Others are still framing their papers.
Grace & Peace,
John