Imagine this.
It is a Sabbath morning. Worship has not yet begun. The church is settling into its rhythm—ushers arranging seats, deacons watching the entrance, members greeting one another. Then the doors open, and a man walks in.
He has dreadlocks.
He carries himself with quiet confidence.
Some recognize him immediately; others only notice that he does not “look like church.” Whispers begin—not loud, but present. Questions form silently in minds and hearts.
Is he one of us?
Does he belong here?
What kind of life does someone like him live?
We have seen these incidents all the time, and we are familiar with the picture being painted.
This story you are about to read is true. Everything Chris Blue looks like on the outside contradicts what he chose with his life on the inside.
Chris Blue is known publicly as a musician who rose to fame on a global stage. His appearance, his sound, and his association with the entertainment industry easily place him in a category many Christians instinctively question. Yet what is less visible is that his journey into the spotlight was shaped by faith, not rebellion. Faced with a life-altering crisis, he made promises to God—and later honored them, even when doing so meant stepping away from commercial success. In a world that celebrates compromise and visibility, Chris chose restraint, conviction, and obedience. His life exposes a tension we often ignore: sometimes the people we are quickest to doubt are already living out a deeper surrender than we imagine.
You can find and enjoy his music here:
Sinners Judging Sinners for Sinning Differently
We are remarkably skilled at ranking sin.
We reassure ourselves that our sins are respectable, private, explainable. Then we encounter someone whose difference is visible—how they dress, speak, worship, or carry their past—and suddenly discernment becomes suspicion.
Scripture reminds us that “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). None of us enters God’s presence worthy. We are all recipients of mercy, not merit. We simply sin differently.
And yet, within the church, fellow sinners are often the least gracious toward other fellow sinners.
Ironically, angels—who have never sinned—rejoice over one repentant soul. But we, who know the weight of guilt and the relief of grace, sometimes respond with distance instead of compassion.
That contradiction should trouble us.
When Jesus Heals, but the Church Questions
John 9 tells the story of a man born blind whom Jesus heals. It is a powerful miracle—undeniable, public, and compassionate. But the story does not end with celebration.
Instead of rejoicing, the religious leaders interrogate.
Instead of embracing, they investigate.
Instead of nurturing, they expel.
The man who had been touched by Jesus is cast out of the synagogue.
Jesus finds him again—not inside the religious system, but outside it.
This pattern has not disappeared.
How many people has Jesus already touched and then entrusted to us for nurturing, only for us to meet them first with suspicion instead of support?
How many lives has Christ already begun restoring before they ever stepped into our churches—only for us to hesitate where Heaven has already acted?
Like the blind man, many arrive with evidence of God’s work already written into their story. Yet instead of asking, “What has the Lord done for you?” we quietly wonder whether they fit.
The Lesson from a Life We Might Misread
Chris Blue’s story matters here not because he is famous, but because it reveals how wrong appearances can be.
His journey into the spotlight was not driven by ambition but by a vow made in desperation and gratitude. His exit from mainstream stardom was not failure, but fidelity—to faith, family, and calling.
To the world, walking away from fame looked foolish.
To faith, it looked like integrity.
And to the church, his life asks an uncomfortable question:
Would we have seen his heart—or stopped at his hair?
Grace Must Make Us Softer, Not Sharper
Ellen G. White writes:
“The strongest argument in favor of the gospel is a loving and lovable Christian.”
— The Ministry of Healing, p. 470
Love does not mean blindness to truth. But truth without love becomes a barrier, not a bridge.
If grace has truly reached us, it should make us more patient, more curious, more willing to listen—not quicker to label and slower to embrace.
The church was never meant to be a courtroom for the already-convicted. It was meant to be a sanctuary for the redeemed and the redeeming.
Seeing as Christ Sees
One Sabbath morning, someone will walk into a church carrying a story already touched by Jesus.
The question is not whether they belong.
The question is whether we will recognize grace when it arrives wearing unfamiliar clothing.
May we learn to look again—this time, with Christ’s eyes.
Image courtesy: https://www.jesusfreakhideout.com/artists/ChrisBlue.asp
Reach out: bryantravolla@gmail.com
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1 comments
Very Inspiring Story, Loved every single line of it: Teaching the Church not to wound but rather heal!
May God bless you Brother! 🙏🙏.