This is the origin of the Jeans for Jesus vision.
During a homeless period of my
life during my senior year of high school, I showed up Emmanuel Lutheran Church—just
me, an eighteen-year-old angst who’s only stability in life seemed to be the welcome
I received at church on Sunday mornings. I was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of beat-up-looking
jeans—one of only outfits I had at the time.
It was fellowship hour, between first and second service, and was given
a painfully snide reminder of the difference between the two subcultures that
clashed during this time. Stepping
outside for some fresh air I was followed outside by a two well-dressed, proper elderly women. I could practically feel them making rude comments about my clothes under their breath,
so I tuned in—“and in the summer, they wear shorts!”
“Oh my goodness!”… They see me look back, and almost look
embarrassed for having their disrespect heard, but one of them said “I don’t
care. It’s disrespectful.” … Really?
I wasn’t sure whether to be
offended or amused… insulted, or bewildered… Did God seriously care that much what I wore to church? People’s priorities must be out of whack… Doesn’t it make more sense that He would be
happy that as a homeless kid in high school, I’m at least making it to church?! Who
are these women to judge me? The people who are judging my worthiness to
worship based on my clothing are the same people who are called by Jesus to bring the homeless to him. Somehow I felt as the homeless person wearing
jeans to church, just trying to have a relationship with God… I wasn’t in the
wrong… This was ridiculous. I decided to
laugh it off.
So I walked back
inside to grab a doughnut, and run into a familiar face—Greg Kahl. His entire family wore jeans to church every Sunday! So I told him about my
encounter with the old women out in front of the church, and we laughed about it
all… he told me, “If God cared what we wore, He would have sent us out in a
suit and tie!” I don’t remember which of us said it, but somehow the conversation
ended in a cheer of: “Jeans for Jesus!”
Something changed in me that day that stopped me from caring as much about what
others approve of, and started focusing on what God approves of. For an odd
reason, Jeans for Jesus stuck with
me.
Years later, I
was telling this story, and something about the phrase Jeans for Jesus struck me. It was catchy.
Then I thought—wait a minute, Jeans for
Jesus. I could make and sell jeans for Jesus! That
could be a nonprofit! What an
awesome idea, and if I hadn’t laughed off the judgment, that slogan and idea
for my nonprofit organization may have ever come to be. From the insults of two self-righteous old
women, an idea for a ministry was born—proof that God can redeem anything! I often wonder if I would have had the idea
if I hadn’t been at church that day in my worn out jeans. Everything happens for a reason! Now thanks to two old women, spiteful at
“kids these days,” Jeans for Jesus can change the world.
