Sermon

Marcus never thought he’d end up there.
It started simple — a few coworkers inviting him out after a long week.
“You work hard, you deserve a little fun,” they said.
And for a man who had been carrying the title "Christian" more in name than lifestyle, it didn’t take much convincing.
One drink led to three.
Three led to a ride downtown.
And before he knew it, Marcus was standing under the pulsing neon lights of a strip club.
He hesitated.
Everything inside of him whispered turn around.
But pride—and the fear of looking "too holy" to his friends—pushed him forward.
The inside smelled like cheap cologne and crushed dreams.
Women paraded across the stage while grown men made fools of themselves with money they couldn't afford to lose.
Marcus sat at the edge of it all, trying to convince himself he was just there to "hang out."
But midway through the night, one of the dancers locked eyes with him.
She sauntered over slowly, a smirk playing across her lips.
When she got close, she leaned down and whispered:
"Marcus? Marcus Williams? Is that you?"
He blinked.
Confused.
She laughed—an all too familiar sound.
"You don't recognize me, huh? I'm Tasha. Kyle's cousin. You remember — we used to all sit together at Sunday school back at Greater Hope Church."
Marcus felt the ground shift under him.
Kyle—his old childhood friend.
They used to race to see who could memorize their Bible verses fastest.
Used to dream about being preachers one day.
Used to get scolded for giggling too loud during altar call.
And here he was.
Not preaching.
Not growing.
Not living the faith he once held so close.
But sitting in a club, with a stack of ones in his pocket, being called out by the cousin of the boy he once dreamed about building the kingdom of God with.
Tasha shook her head and smiled sadly.
"Man... I thought you were gonna be somebody."
And just like that — she was gone.
Back into the smoke and the strobe lights.
Marcus sat there, unable to move.
The bass kept thumping, the men kept laughing, the dancers kept dancing.
But in his spirit, there was nothing but silence.
Because nothing cuts deeper than being confronted with who you used to be — and realizing you’ve been wearing the label of faith but living without the life of it.
He wasn’t thriving.
He wasn’t building bridges to God.
He wasn’t living like a new creation.
He was a man who had settled for grace without growth.
A man who had kept the label but lost the life.
And now, under the flashing lights and fake smiles, Marcus had to face the one question he had been running from for years:
When did I stop becoming who God called me to be?

Reflection Questions:
1. Have I traded my calling for comfort, settling for wearing the Christian label without living the Christian life?
2. If someone from my past who knew my faith story saw me today, would they recognize Christ still at work in me—or would they wonder what happened to me?