Total Acceptance: Sleeping on Church Floors

I've learned over time to not blog about the politics of the world, or the battle there is over which religions create terrorism (a fallacy of an argument in my opinion, but I'm not here for that), or even to talk about religion in general.

Today, I'm going to talk about a memory. You see, there was a time when I slept on a church floor for two nights. Willingly, not out of desperation, and not out of religious conviction either.

The Sudbury Church

I was travelling with a group of strangers-cum-housemates. We were living in Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario and wanted to experience the vast province before leaving it. We decided to travel towards Sudbury, Ontario to tour a few momentous parts of Canadian history. There was one catch: we didn't have any money for a hotel. 

It never dawned on me that I might not be welcome to sleep on a Church floor. I don't think a single one of my housemates outwardly practiced religion. We didn't live up to Christian values: marijuana, under-aged drinking, and sex before marriage were common ideals held in that house. Yet, I still took to the phone book and called churches in Sudbury in order of alphabetical listing to see if any of them might have a space we could lay our heads down at night.

Dale Pepin

I don't actually know the name of the church Dale was affiliated with. This man was, and is, the coolest pastor I've ever met in my life. He not only considered my proposition, but was excited to have a group of unruly barely-legal adults sleep in the basement of his church with the keys in our possession. He was thrilled to see young people actually interested in exploring their country, and furthermore, his city within it. I don't know if he asked if we were a religious group - I might have initially told him we weren't - but he didn't care.

And here's the thing:

He didn't ask if any of us were gay.

He didn't ask if any of us were not Caucasian.

He didn't ask if any of us were religious - Catholic, Muslim, Flying Spaghetti Monster, it didn't matter.

He only asked us how long we wanted to stay for.

And then he Gave us The Best Time of Our Lives

I'll confess: I washed my hair in a bathroom sink of a Church with stained glass windows. I thought, we were just staying for a few nights, we were staying out of everyone's hair, and washing my hair in their sink might have been tacky, but at least I was clean.

That was before Dale's entire ministry (is it called a ministry?) made a breakfast in our honour, following Church service. "To welcome our guests who have chosen our Church as part of their experience within Sudbury", he said. Or something to that effect - I don't have the greatest memory for verbatim.

That was also before I found out that Dale was the coolest pastor ever, and had a side-gig of acting. He gave us free tickets to his play that night: The King and I, which is still my favourite play to date.

Dale was the most welcoming, friendly, and passionate individual I had met. He let a group of strangers sleep on his floor, he fed them, and he welcomed them into his world.

****

I admit I still don't attend church, and I don't know much about religion. But what I do know is that I'll never forget Dale Pepin. Because as one of my seldom introductions to religion and the way it shapes you, Dale was the person who, above all his own personal beliefs and values, the one that mattered the most to him was being a good person.