Bad Dog

cbr, 2025, #nowplaying - Bad Dog, Neon Hitch

cbr, 2025, #nowplaying - Bad Dog, Neon Hitch

My beloved brothers and sisters, today we gather in this sacred space to explore the deepest recesses of our spiritual landscape - that raw, untamed part of our souls that feels perpetually outside the boundaries of conventional righteousness. We’re diving deep into the concept of the “bad dog” within each of us - that internal struggle between our broken humanity and our divine calling.

Let us begin with a scripture rarely whispered in pulpits, a hidden gem that speaks directly to our condition. Judges 3:12-30 presents us with Ehud, a man defined by what the world would consider a limitation. Left-handed in a right-handed world, he was seen as different, potentially flawed. Yet God saw something extraordinary in what others might dismiss. This is our first revelation: our perceived weaknesses are often the very conduits through which divine power flows most dramatically.

We’ve all been that bad dog - growling at grace, snapping at love, running wild through the streets of our own rebellion. Our spiritual journey is not a pristine walk through manicured gardens, but a messy trek through wilderness territories. We’ve marked our territory with pride, chased every distraction, and snarled at anyone who dared to come close. Our lives often look like a yard torn apart - destruction everywhere, yet hope still breathing beneath the chaos.

But here’s the profound truth: God doesn’t see our brokenness as a problem to be fixed, but as a canvas to be transformed. Our wounds are not scars of shame, but testimonies of survival. Every growl, every moment of rebellion, every time we’ve felt unworthy - these are not barriers to grace, but invitations to a deeper understanding of redemption.

Consider the landscape of our spiritual wandering. We are not domesticated believers meant to sit quietly in pristine pews. We are called to be wild lovers of Christ, boundary-breakers who understand that true faith is not about perfection, but about passionate transformation. Our culture teaches us to hide our wounds, to cover our scars, to present a polished exterior. But what if our brokenness is precisely the location where God’s light shines most brilliantly?

The theology of the “bad dog” is not about condemnation, but about radical acceptance. We are not defined by our worst moments, but by the continuous work of restoration happening within us. Every mistake, every failure, every moment of weakness is not a full stop, but a comma in a larger narrative of grace. God doesn’t discard broken vessels - He rebuilds them into masterpieces of unexpected beauty.

Let’s dive deeper into the wilderness of our souls. Our pain is not a chain that binds us, but the very material God uses to craft something extraordinary. Think about the moments when you felt most unworthy, most distant from divine love. Those are the exact moments when God leans in closest. He doesn’t see a lost cause; He sees a masterpiece in progress, a wild heart waiting to be redirected.

Our spiritual journey is not a linear path of constant improvement, but a dynamic dance of surrender and transformation. We are called to bring our entire selves to God - not just the polished parts, but the rough edges, the wild impulses, the parts we’re ashamed of. True worship is not about presenting a perfect performance, but about raw, honest surrender.

The world doesn’t need tame believers who conform to religious expectations. The world craves authentic souls who understand that redemption is always possible, that transformation is a continuous journey. Our scars are not marks of defeat, but badges of survival. Each wound tells a story of resilience, each struggle a testament to grace that refuses to let us go.

We must understand that being a “bad dog” is not a permanent state, but a transitional moment. It’s the space between who we were and who we are becoming. God is not shocked by our wildness - He is the master conductor who can turn our most chaotic melodies into a symphony of redemption. Our brokenness is not a barrier to divine love, but the very canvas upon which He paints His most magnificent work.

Look around this room. We are not alone in this journey. Each of us carries the potential for extraordinary transformation. The wildness within us is not something to be suppressed or ashamed of, but something to be surrendered. When we bring our entire selves to God - the good, the bad, the ugly - He doesn’t domesticate us. He releases our true nature.

Our calling is not to be perfect, but to be real. Authentic. Transformed. We are invited into a relationship that doesn’t demand our polished performance, but celebrates our honest pursuit. Our spiritual life is not about maintaining a pristine exterior, but about allowing divine love to penetrate our deepest wounds, to heal our most profound brokenness.

So today, I challenge you: Embrace the bad dog within. Not as a source of shame, but as an invitation to radical grace. Let your wilderness become your worship. Let your scars become your story. We are not defined by where we’ve been, but by the relentless love that continues to pursue us, transform us, and call us into a destiny far beyond our current understanding.

Our journey continues. Our transformation is ongoing. And God is not finished with us yet.

Amen.

-Pastor Mitchell Royel