This is a story of the the best nightclub I never saw.

Drai’s After hours Club was an exclusive spot hidden a few floors beneath a casino called Bill’s Gamblin’ Hall & Saloon (and it wasn’t as classy as the name implies). In the middle of the night party people with high hopes would make their way through the decaying casino floor and assemble around an elevator that lowered the lucky chosen ones into paradise.  Guarding this elevator were a group of bouncers so remarkably douchey that I will refer to them as the Summers Eve Bros (SEBs).

Early one morning in 2008 I stood in a crowd of people yearning to earn a trip down into the basement wonderland.

I feel the need to explain why I was so hyped to see this club. It only opened very late after most clubs had closed down. It was notoriously hard to get into and I’d heard of surprise musical performances, celebrity appearances and one rumor that everything was made of candy like that scene in Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory. The everlasting gobstoppers must be incredible.

There were two keys to my Operation: Drais.  The first was faking confidence. I stood tall in a button-down shirt I had bought two days earlier at Ross Dress For Less. I tried to put out the vibe that my name was on the list and I’d already be in the club except the dumb SEBs had never learned how to read.

The second strategy had proven successful before – I put my more attractive friends in front of me so the bouncers would wave them in before they spotted me. The “He’s with me” Loophole had worked before… but more on that later.

As we stood against the velvet rope I felt despair growing in my stomach. I watched the most attractive girls I’d ever seen pout because they were being ignored by the SEBs. The jocks on the other side of the velvet rope would huddle up to discuss a candidate, openly mocking their outfit or looks then occasionally they’d point into the crowd and wave in someone they deemed worthy.  At one point they actually did a choreographed “high five” dance. If I’d not been homeschooled I would say it was like high school all over again.

Despite the despair, a part of me hoped the SEBs would be won over by my relentlessness. It wasn’t until an NBA player walked past me and on the elevator that the truth sunk in: It didn’t matter what I did that night, I would never be cool enough to get into Drai’s.

Now year’s later, Bill’s Gamblin’ Hall is gone but I still think about that night. That experience gave me a new perspective on the Gospel of Jesus.

I like to think Drai’s was sort of a heaven on earth. I imagine people gathered around the gates of heaven hoping to be let in. They try to earn it or buy it or get in on a technicality but the club is so exclusive that they only let in perfect people. No one is getting past St Peter.

“For all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God” – Romans 3:23

But my faith teaches me that (metaphorically) Jesus is the way into Drai’s. I like to imagine Jesus walking up thru that crowd at 4am and the SEBs rush to unhook the red rope for Him. He turns and points at me – just as I am accepting that I have no shot at making it – and says, “He’s with me.”

I do accept that I simply am not good enough to get in on my own.

I do believe my name is on the list even though I don’t deserve it.

I do believe that’s Good News.