Looking for the Church?
At Christmas time, I often see cards depicting a snow covered rural church with its lights shining, inviting me to join them for a simple, but profoundly meaningful, candlelight service on Christmas Eve. For me personally, being drawn to the country, this is what I want the to see the Church. I long for a life uncluttered by noise, traffic, and busyness. I want the Church to reflect my desires.
What does your imagination and dreams make the Church to be? Do you see grand spires reaching the heavens? A large, modern building, bustling with people and activity? An old urban building opening it's doors to feed the needy? A group of people dressed in their best, singing as the choir and organ lead? Or sandels,sneakers and blue jeans moving in tempo to guitars and drums? Or do you see common theology and practices of communion, baptism, and church government?
If I had masterminded the Bible, I would have done it much differently. It would have given clear outlines, in order of priority, of what God expected. Instead of that, God's Word is primarily a record of God's interaction with His people. In that interaction, we find His commands, His consequences for obedence and disodedience, His grace, and His face. Paul, Isaiah, and others make grand statements of theology, but the context is always God interacting with people. Rules apart from realtionships always produce pharisees. My way would have only resulted in rule followers, not God seekers.
You will look in vain for a defintion of the Church in the Bible. You will find descriptions, promises, and stories. Let's look at the first story in Mark about the Church. Open yourself to look at a familar story differently.
Mark 2:1 A few days later, when Jesus again entered Capernaum, the people heard that he had come home. 2 So many gathered that there was no room left, not even outside the door, and he preached the word to them. 3 Some men came, bringing to him a paralytic, carried by four of them. 4 Since they could not get him to Jesus because of the crowd, they made an opening in the roof above Jesus and, after digging through it, lowered the mat the paralyzed man was lying on. 5 When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, "Son, your sins are forgiven."
The story in Mark teaches many lessons. Perhaps the most obvious is making clear that Jesus forgives and makes whole as only God can do. But going beyond that, it teaches us the importance of seeking God together.
Let’s look at the people involved who were seeking help and seeing what we can learn from them. Five men: four healthy and one paralyzed. Connected with a common purpose—getting to Jesus. The ones who were able didn’t need help, and the one who needed help was unable. This is a parable of the Church.
What we normally call the Church is a group of individual believers who happen to be in the same place at the same time. There is a unity, but for many, it doesn’t extend beyond a common geography, a common time, and at least a partially common theology. Unity that becomes community is optional. It is not a primary foundational commitment, second only to loyalty to God Himself. Individuals fail and fall because there is not an unshakable commitment to the common good, to community.
Do you want to live as an individual, alone, succeeding or failing alone? These five men in Mark’s Gospel did not see that as an option. The paralyzed man or his friends had heard that Jesus was back home. Hope stirred in them! Hope! Perhaps the crippled man had a wife and children that had depended on him until he lost the ability to move. Perhaps, because of his infirmity, he had never married and was dependant on family to care for him. But whatever his personal circumstances, it was devastating to not only him, but also to those who loved him. But now, others didn’t just hurt with him, they hoped with him! So the four men took their friend to the house where Jesus was.
Or they tried to, because those others seeking to be near Jesus got there first. The house was filled to the point that newly come seekers couldn’t even get close, let alone get in. If I had been one of those five men, I would have given up. “We tried, didn’t we?” I’d ask. “That’s all anyone can do.” But those men weren’t like me. Somehow, the four friends not only got up on the roof themselves, but they got their crippled friend up there, too.
What you think the bystanders were thinking and saying? “They’re nuts! An embarrassment! What will Jesus think of this foolishness? They’re all going to get hurt! Who’s going to repair the roof? There's a storm coming!
But the four were undeterred. Once up on the roof, they proceeded to dig a hole through it, and lowered their friend down. I wonder who brought the rope. Undoubtedly, debris was falling down on the people below, including Jesus. Jesus looked at them (plural—all five), and then told the paralytic that his sins were forgiven. After further conversation with the outraged bystanders, Jesus also healed the man.
Can you to identify with the four friends? Who do you know that desperately needs to get to Jesus? What needs does he or she has make it impossible to get to the One Who can help? Sin. Discouragement. Depression. Grief. Pain. Infirmity. Are you going to hurt for them and pray from a distance, or are you committed to be with them in their mess. Are you willing to not only help your friend, but enlist others? Are you willing to carry your friend when he would go on, but can’t? Are you willing to look defeat in the eye, and say, “No! We will not turn back until we reach Jesus! Jesus can say no, but until I hear from Him, I’m not going to stop.” Are you willing to do the unorthodox, to dig through a roof, to be loyal to your friend?
We will not see the Church until we say, “Yes!”
Can you also identify with the paralyzed man? You are desperately needy, but you hate imposing. You hate being weak. You know the thing to do, but it’s beyond you. You don’t want the label. Alcoholic. Addict. Gossiper. Angry. Damaged. Depressed. Poor. Sick. Jobless. Sometimes the only way to find help is to share a mutual dependency with friends. An embarrassing dependency! Are you willing to be humble, to be weak, and to need those around you?
We will not see the Church that Jesus would build until we say, “Yes!”
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Monday, December 28, 2009
The Stain
A Parable of the Church
“I need a drink,” Ralph thought to himself as he walked into Tommy’s Place.
“The usual, Tommy..”
Tommy, knowing exactly what was wanted and what was needed, filled Ralph’s glass nearly to the brim. Without another word, Ralph’s money was put on the bar, taken, change offered and refused. Just like every day. Just at this same time.
Tommy smiled. Ralph nodded. He walked across the floor, stained with years of life. Then he sat at the table by the picture, the faded picture of Pete Rose stealing Home. Others nodded to Ralph in acknowledgment. A couple of men began making their way to his table, their table. One, then another, came in and had their everyday transactions with Tommy, before coming to the table.
George, talkative as usual, started the conversation. “My crew broke ground for that big addition to Faith Church today. We’ll be there for months. I hope it works out better than the last job we did for them. Lord knows we need the work, but we don’t need the aggravation. All day long, people come by and tell us what to do, but each one has a different idea...” George stopped in mid sentence as he saw the pain in Ralph’s eyes.
Jerry, not picking up on Ralph’s silent words, took the pause as an opportunity to jump in. “My Ex goes there. When I was picking up the kids for the week end, I couldn’t help hearing her talk to her friend about the ‘discussion’ of the decorating committee. At least three couples walked out of that meeting! And the lady who was trying to lead the committee ran out crying after one of the older ladies told her, in front of everyone, “For your own good, dear, you need to know that your decorating ideas for a church are not in very good taste. For a casino like I’ve seen on TV, maybe, but not for a church. I only say this to be honest.’”
David, putting his hand on Jerry’s arm, bent over and whispered in his ear. Jerry nodded, made eye contact with those at the table. His eyes met Ralph’s last. “Sorry Ralph. Sorry guys. I wasn’t thinking.” Several of the men nodded and a few seemed confused. Everyone waited for Ralph to speak...
For Ralph, it was one of those moments when memories fast-forwarded in his mind. In an instant, months and years were relived. The compressed file, the one called pain, was accessed. Its contents were viewed in his countenance. Then he remembered why he was here. He smiled.
Ralph had had a secret, or had tried to have a secret. His heart had been deeply pieced with pain. It became infected, and rottenness had oozed out. An ugly stain had covered his heart, and that stain had bled through for all to see. He had tried to cover it with anger. Unfortunately, it was as unconvincing as a comb over. The only one fooled was Ralph.
There are unexpected moments that define a life. A word of praise for extraordinary effort can make a whole life extraordinary. An unguarded gaze passing from a father to a child, revealing shame, can infect a life with shame. Ralph could still see his father’s face after “the incident.” It was his earliest memory. In his countenance, he saw love with borders too small to contain mistakes. He couldn’t see his mother’s face because it had been hidden behind her hands. She didn’t see him reaching out for her, didn’t hear him crying. But he heard her sobbing. He could still hear her sobbing. He didn’t know what he had done wrong or why it was wrong. So he knew that it was he himself who was wrong. When she finally looked at him, it was the same way she looked at the stained sheets after an “accident.”
The next day at Faith Church, in the big sanctuary with small boundaries, the white haired man who loved to shout was getting started. Ralph could still hear his mother whispering, ‘“Don’t talk!” “Don’t squirm!” “Sit up straight!” “Don’t make me more ashamed!”’ as the shouting man railed against addicts and Democrats. Ralph hated it as much as the Shouting Man seemed to hate everyone not in the room. Why did the man shout so much? As Ralph was trying to ask to be taken to the bathroom, he remembered his father putting his big hands over his mouth. He remembered becoming very frightened when he couldn’t breathe.
After the shouting and singing was over, Ralph’s father told the preacher he needed to talk with him. As his father started, the Shouting Man first looked as if someone had kicked him in the shin. And then it seemed like a mask covered his face as he nodded. The Shouting Man gathered four or five other men in a circle in the corner and they whispered together. All Ralph heard was “black heart.” Perhaps their whispers were magnetized shouts intended to attract gossiping eyes because everyone’s gaze was on the men in the corner. Ralph’s black, stained heart broke and leaked all over the floor. At least something spread on the floor beneath his feet, staining the red carpet. Fear separated him from everyone in the room, and he became its prisoner. After that everything, everyone was different. And at three, he didn’t yet know the word ‘lonely,’ but if anyone knew what it meant, he did.
The Bible says, “Give and it shall be given unto you.” Undoubtedly, this is not what the shouting man was thinking about when he gave Ralph hatred. But Ralph gave back what was given. The shouting man didn’t call it hatred, of course. He called it ‘concern.’ Others needed to ‘pray’ about it and they couldn’t pray if they didn’t know all the details. All the details, whether they were true or not, were spread through the church. In a few years, a few of the boys from Sunday School, began to call him him some of the names they had heard their parents use when they were warned not to play with him. As a kindness, perhaps, Ralph began to do some of the things that others said he had done. He wouldn’t want them to be liars, would he?
So there were more “incidents.” And each added to his legacy. He fulfilled all their wildest words. And it gave the Shouting Man something else to shout about. Days, months, and years passed. The day finally came when Ralph’s father commanded him to get in the car to go to church, and Ralph said, “No, thank you.” Or maybe his words were a bit stronger. He vowed he would never go back. No one really seemed unhappy with that decision.
Life from there was predictable for Ralph. Not good, but predictable. At least it was predictable until another incident occurred. But this incident was very different. Ralph was in the alley behind Tommy’s Place losing the liquid that he had taken too freely, too deeply. As it happened, the Shouting Man was walking by on the adjacent street. Older, but with undaunted distain, he made eye contact with Ralph as he was raising his stained face. The man shook his head, shouting silently, and walked on. As Ralph staggered towards his car, another man walked by. He looked on as Ralph struggled to get his key in the lock. He began to walk closer, but not too close. He knew when a man needed room.
“Need some help?”
Ralph mumbled something while continuing trying to insert the key in the moving lock.
“Let me give you a ride.”
Ralph tried to respond, but no recognizable words came out. But the man understood what wasn’t said and helped Ralph into the car.
On the way, without warning, Ralph again felt the need to have less alcohol in his unhappy stomach. Stains now covered the front of his shirt over his heart and the man’s car. “Sorry,” Ralph tried to say, but the bile was backing up again. The man looked at Ralph and Ralph cringed. Not outwardly, but deep inside he pulled back. He had seen the Bible on the seat. He knew what that meant, didn’t he.
The man began to reach across the car. This time Ralph really did cringe. The hand came closer and sobriety came closer too. As the car slowed, Ralph expected to be pushed out, as he had so many times before. The hand came closer. It came to rest on Ralph’s shoulder. “It’s just a car. It’s not really important. When you’re feeling better maybe you’d like to hear about what is important. Really important. I stopped so I could write my phone number down for you.” The man wrote it on a scrap of paper and slipped it into Ralph’s pocket. Ralph didn’t remember it until the next day. He took his shower with his clothes still on to get the worst of the mess off. He was absently checking his pockets before throwing them in the corner, with other clothes that looked and smelled much the same. He pulled the soaked paper out and left it on the counter by the piles of pizza boxes and balled up bags of meals long since forgotten.
Later that same morning, he rushed out the door on his way to work. He always made it to work. Maybe late. Maybe hung over. But Ralph realized that no work meant no money and no money meant no booze and no booze meant no relief from the pain that consumed his soul. If someone like him had a soul.
When he got outside, he saw no car. Since he really didn’t remember much about last night, he was afraid. Was there another accident? Then vague visions filled his mind. A stranger. A ride. Being sick. Being helped into his apartment. Then blessed blackness. Now he remembered! As he began walking, the rain began, too. Foul thoughts, foul words and foul weather were on his day’s agenda. As he walked, a car pulled up along side of him. “Need a ride?” called out an almost familiar voice. The voice from last night. Ralph almost said no, but it began raining harder. He’d be late, and the boss was running out of patience. Reluctantly, he got in. As he closed the car door, he was also closing himself so the ridicule would not penetrate. The Shouting Man had a least taught him how to protect himself.
Ralph waited. Condemnation had to be coming. Or condescension. People carrying Bibles always carried those to give out with their tracts. The man coughed slightly, as people do when it’s hard to get words out. Ralph cringed, waiting for the tirade. Instead, the man simply asked, “Where ya need to go?”
“Construction site at 3rd and Main,” Ralph muttered.
“Need a ride after work to get your car?”
“That’d be fine,” Ralph said before he even thought. “Now I’ve done it,” he muttered to himself.
As the day progressed, Ralph’s hangover gradually diminished. But as the hangover lessened his thirst increased. Between that and apprehension about the coming condemnation, he was in a foul mood. But when the 12 pack appeared at quitting time, Ralph’s good humor reappeared, too. And with the appearing beer, the memory of the ride disappeared. The man waited out front as the workers left. He looked sad as he finally drove away. As Ralph staggered out, he caught a glimpse of what appeared to be the man wiping a tear from his eye. That tear washed the away the soil burying Ralph’s secret, and that secret emerged from its grave. It staggered out, revealing the sad ugliness. Loneliness wrapped in fear emerged from the darkness, an undead vampire ready to again drink his life blood. Ralph struck the stake of denial in his heart, and laid his secret back in its grave.
Ralph saw the man from a distance several times in the next weeks, but he was always able to avoid him. Ralph couldn’t avoid thinking about him, however. The memory of the hand brushing back a tear haunted him. He had steeled himself against criticism. Indifference was harder, but he could handle it. Hatred didn’t affect him at all. Anger gave him strength. But tears for him! Even his mother hadn’t cried for him, she had only cried because she was ashamed of him. Her tears were like a flash flood that had carried away the last of his humanity. As he had reached out for hands to rescue him, the torrent of her tears had washed him away. Ralph began the long walk to Tommy’s to find blessed oblivion once again.
As the weeks passed, Ralph almost succeeded in forgetting the man. The only time he had a problem was late at night when the “anesthesia” wore off before the morning came. This was one of those nights. He had given up trying to sleep and sat on the porch. He had no “anesthesia” left and no money either. All he had was time and pain. He went in to get a drink of water and saw the note that had been lying on the counter with his life’s debris. He picked it up and tried to straighten it. Surprisingly, it was still legible. All it said was, “If you ever need someone, I’m here. Call me anytime. Your friend.” A phone number was at the bottom. Another stain was added to the note as a tear fell from Ralph’s eye and landed on the wrinkled paper. “Haven’t done that since I was three. What’s wrong with me?” It seemed as if someone else’s finger was dialing the number, but the scars and nicotine stains on the fingers were his own.
“Can you come?” he said without prelude when the call was answered on the fourth ring.
“I’m on my way. That’s what friends do”
Ralph talked that night more than he had since he was a little boy. His friend listened. Finally as dawn was peeking in the window, Ralph quietly asked the question that was screaming inside of him. “Why?”
“My friend told me that what I did for the most helpless, I was doing for Him. Actually, He said “the least of these,” but I like to put it in my own words so I understand better. He did the same thing Himself. He went looking for those who were hurting--like you. Would you like to hear some more?”
Ralph heard some more. He heard about a man who wasn’t welcomed by the shouting men of His time. He heard about how lies and gossip were spread about Him, too. He heard about how He was left to suffer alone so that no one would ever have to be alone again. He heard about how God’s rule gave boundaries set by love, not by fear and condemnation. He discovered that God’s boundaries are there to hold you close, like the mother’s embrace he had always longed for, but never received. Until that moment he had only known the prison of Fear’s barbed wire barriers. He had bloodied himself on those barbs of alcohol, drugs, and condemnation as he tried to find freedom. He knew he could never break through. That night Ralph found that a Man had laid His body over those barbs to allow Fear’s captives release, inviting even Ralph to use Him as a bridge to freedom.
Ralph relished his new life! He looked for a place to live out what he had experienced. He even visited Faith Church, but somehow, stained glass didn’t seem to fit with a stained heart. Oh, his heart wasn’t stained by his failures anymore, but it was stained with Another’s blood. Stained floors fit with stained hearts. Besides, when Ralph visited Faith Church, his work jeans and tee shirt were not as comfortable as they had been an hour before. As he walked in, it seemed as if he had passed through a check point designed to keep out the “unacceptable.” His jeans and tee shirt didn’t make the cut. Neither did he. God had found him in back of Tommy’s Place, with his jeans. Maybe God could use him to find stained hearts in stained jeans at Tommy’s. He would go into places where the Kingdom of Fear had a grip on men’s hearts, and where they weren’t afraid to admit it. He would be a secret messenger carrying hope to the helpless, like himself…..
“I need a drink,” Ralph thought to himself as he walked into Tommy’s Place.
“The usual, Tommy.”
Tommy, knowing exactly what was wanted and what was needed, filled Ralph’s glass nearly to the brim with 7-Up. Without a word, Ralph’s money was put on the bar, taken, change offered and refused. Just like every day. Just at this same time.
Tommy smiled. Ralph nodded. He walked across the floor, stained with years of life. Then he sat at the table by the picture, the faded picture of Pete Rose stealing Home. Others nodded to Ralph in acknowledgment. A couple of men began making their way to his table, their table. One, then another, came in and had their everyday transactions with Tommy, before coming to the table.
George, talkative as usual, started the conversation. “My crew broke ground for that big addition to Faith Church today. We’ll be there for months. I hope it works out better than the last job we did for them. Lord knows we need the work, but we don’t need the aggravation. All day long, people come by and tell us what to do, but each one has a different idea...” George stopped in mid sentence as he saw the pain in Ralph’s eyes.
Jerry, not picking up on Ralph’s silent words, took the pause as an opportunity to jump in. “My Ex goes there. When I was picking up the kids for the week end, I couldn’t help hearing her talk to her friend about the ‘discussion’ of the decorating committee. At least three couples walked out of that meeting! And the lady who was trying to lead the committee ran out crying after one of the older ladies told her, in front of everyone, ‘For your own good, dear, you need to know that your decorating ideas for a church are not in very good taste. For a casino like I see on TV, maybe, but not for a church. I only say this to be honest.’”
David, putting his hand on Jerry’s arm, bent over and whispered in his ear. Jerry nodded, made eye contact with those at the table. His eyes met Ralph’s last. “Sorry Ralph. Sorry guys. I wasn’t thinking.” Several of the men nodded and a few seemed confused. Everyone waited for Ralph to speak...
“Let’s talk about Jesus,” Ralph said to the men with stained hearts. “Does He complain about how rotten we are? Does He spend all His time inside the walls people have made, or does He come looking for hurting, lonely people? Does He really want anything to do with a vomit smeared drunk like me? Or like you?”
A Parable of the Church
“I need a drink,” Ralph thought to himself as he walked into Tommy’s Place.
“The usual, Tommy..”
Tommy, knowing exactly what was wanted and what was needed, filled Ralph’s glass nearly to the brim. Without another word, Ralph’s money was put on the bar, taken, change offered and refused. Just like every day. Just at this same time.
Tommy smiled. Ralph nodded. He walked across the floor, stained with years of life. Then he sat at the table by the picture, the faded picture of Pete Rose stealing Home. Others nodded to Ralph in acknowledgment. A couple of men began making their way to his table, their table. One, then another, came in and had their everyday transactions with Tommy, before coming to the table.
George, talkative as usual, started the conversation. “My crew broke ground for that big addition to Faith Church today. We’ll be there for months. I hope it works out better than the last job we did for them. Lord knows we need the work, but we don’t need the aggravation. All day long, people come by and tell us what to do, but each one has a different idea...” George stopped in mid sentence as he saw the pain in Ralph’s eyes.
Jerry, not picking up on Ralph’s silent words, took the pause as an opportunity to jump in. “My Ex goes there. When I was picking up the kids for the week end, I couldn’t help hearing her talk to her friend about the ‘discussion’ of the decorating committee. At least three couples walked out of that meeting! And the lady who was trying to lead the committee ran out crying after one of the older ladies told her, in front of everyone, “For your own good, dear, you need to know that your decorating ideas for a church are not in very good taste. For a casino like I’ve seen on TV, maybe, but not for a church. I only say this to be honest.’”
David, putting his hand on Jerry’s arm, bent over and whispered in his ear. Jerry nodded, made eye contact with those at the table. His eyes met Ralph’s last. “Sorry Ralph. Sorry guys. I wasn’t thinking.” Several of the men nodded and a few seemed confused. Everyone waited for Ralph to speak...
For Ralph, it was one of those moments when memories fast-forwarded in his mind. In an instant, months and years were relived. The compressed file, the one called pain, was accessed. Its contents were viewed in his countenance. Then he remembered why he was here. He smiled.
Ralph had had a secret, or had tried to have a secret. His heart had been deeply pieced with pain. It became infected, and rottenness had oozed out. An ugly stain had covered his heart, and that stain had bled through for all to see. He had tried to cover it with anger. Unfortunately, it was as unconvincing as a comb over. The only one fooled was Ralph.
There are unexpected moments that define a life. A word of praise for extraordinary effort can make a whole life extraordinary. An unguarded gaze passing from a father to a child, revealing shame, can infect a life with shame. Ralph could still see his father’s face after “the incident.” It was his earliest memory. In his countenance, he saw love with borders too small to contain mistakes. He couldn’t see his mother’s face because it had been hidden behind her hands. She didn’t see him reaching out for her, didn’t hear him crying. But he heard her sobbing. He could still hear her sobbing. He didn’t know what he had done wrong or why it was wrong. So he knew that it was he himself who was wrong. When she finally looked at him, it was the same way she looked at the stained sheets after an “accident.”
The next day at Faith Church, in the big sanctuary with small boundaries, the white haired man who loved to shout was getting started. Ralph could still hear his mother whispering, ‘“Don’t talk!” “Don’t squirm!” “Sit up straight!” “Don’t make me more ashamed!”’ as the shouting man railed against addicts and Democrats. Ralph hated it as much as the Shouting Man seemed to hate everyone not in the room. Why did the man shout so much? As Ralph was trying to ask to be taken to the bathroom, he remembered his father putting his big hands over his mouth. He remembered becoming very frightened when he couldn’t breathe.
After the shouting and singing was over, Ralph’s father told the preacher he needed to talk with him. As his father started, the Shouting Man first looked as if someone had kicked him in the shin. And then it seemed like a mask covered his face as he nodded. The Shouting Man gathered four or five other men in a circle in the corner and they whispered together. All Ralph heard was “black heart.” Perhaps their whispers were magnetized shouts intended to attract gossiping eyes because everyone’s gaze was on the men in the corner. Ralph’s black, stained heart broke and leaked all over the floor. At least something spread on the floor beneath his feet, staining the red carpet. Fear separated him from everyone in the room, and he became its prisoner. After that everything, everyone was different. And at three, he didn’t yet know the word ‘lonely,’ but if anyone knew what it meant, he did.
The Bible says, “Give and it shall be given unto you.” Undoubtedly, this is not what the shouting man was thinking about when he gave Ralph hatred. But Ralph gave back what was given. The shouting man didn’t call it hatred, of course. He called it ‘concern.’ Others needed to ‘pray’ about it and they couldn’t pray if they didn’t know all the details. All the details, whether they were true or not, were spread through the church. In a few years, a few of the boys from Sunday School, began to call him him some of the names they had heard their parents use when they were warned not to play with him. As a kindness, perhaps, Ralph began to do some of the things that others said he had done. He wouldn’t want them to be liars, would he?
So there were more “incidents.” And each added to his legacy. He fulfilled all their wildest words. And it gave the Shouting Man something else to shout about. Days, months, and years passed. The day finally came when Ralph’s father commanded him to get in the car to go to church, and Ralph said, “No, thank you.” Or maybe his words were a bit stronger. He vowed he would never go back. No one really seemed unhappy with that decision.
Life from there was predictable for Ralph. Not good, but predictable. At least it was predictable until another incident occurred. But this incident was very different. Ralph was in the alley behind Tommy’s Place losing the liquid that he had taken too freely, too deeply. As it happened, the Shouting Man was walking by on the adjacent street. Older, but with undaunted distain, he made eye contact with Ralph as he was raising his stained face. The man shook his head, shouting silently, and walked on. As Ralph staggered towards his car, another man walked by. He looked on as Ralph struggled to get his key in the lock. He began to walk closer, but not too close. He knew when a man needed room.
“Need some help?”
Ralph mumbled something while continuing trying to insert the key in the moving lock.
“Let me give you a ride.”
Ralph tried to respond, but no recognizable words came out. But the man understood what wasn’t said and helped Ralph into the car.
On the way, without warning, Ralph again felt the need to have less alcohol in his unhappy stomach. Stains now covered the front of his shirt over his heart and the man’s car. “Sorry,” Ralph tried to say, but the bile was backing up again. The man looked at Ralph and Ralph cringed. Not outwardly, but deep inside he pulled back. He had seen the Bible on the seat. He knew what that meant, didn’t he.
The man began to reach across the car. This time Ralph really did cringe. The hand came closer and sobriety came closer too. As the car slowed, Ralph expected to be pushed out, as he had so many times before. The hand came closer. It came to rest on Ralph’s shoulder. “It’s just a car. It’s not really important. When you’re feeling better maybe you’d like to hear about what is important. Really important. I stopped so I could write my phone number down for you.” The man wrote it on a scrap of paper and slipped it into Ralph’s pocket. Ralph didn’t remember it until the next day. He took his shower with his clothes still on to get the worst of the mess off. He was absently checking his pockets before throwing them in the corner, with other clothes that looked and smelled much the same. He pulled the soaked paper out and left it on the counter by the piles of pizza boxes and balled up bags of meals long since forgotten.
Later that same morning, he rushed out the door on his way to work. He always made it to work. Maybe late. Maybe hung over. But Ralph realized that no work meant no money and no money meant no booze and no booze meant no relief from the pain that consumed his soul. If someone like him had a soul.
When he got outside, he saw no car. Since he really didn’t remember much about last night, he was afraid. Was there another accident? Then vague visions filled his mind. A stranger. A ride. Being sick. Being helped into his apartment. Then blessed blackness. Now he remembered! As he began walking, the rain began, too. Foul thoughts, foul words and foul weather were on his day’s agenda. As he walked, a car pulled up along side of him. “Need a ride?” called out an almost familiar voice. The voice from last night. Ralph almost said no, but it began raining harder. He’d be late, and the boss was running out of patience. Reluctantly, he got in. As he closed the car door, he was also closing himself so the ridicule would not penetrate. The Shouting Man had a least taught him how to protect himself.
Ralph waited. Condemnation had to be coming. Or condescension. People carrying Bibles always carried those to give out with their tracts. The man coughed slightly, as people do when it’s hard to get words out. Ralph cringed, waiting for the tirade. Instead, the man simply asked, “Where ya need to go?”
“Construction site at 3rd and Main,” Ralph muttered.
“Need a ride after work to get your car?”
“That’d be fine,” Ralph said before he even thought. “Now I’ve done it,” he muttered to himself.
As the day progressed, Ralph’s hangover gradually diminished. But as the hangover lessened his thirst increased. Between that and apprehension about the coming condemnation, he was in a foul mood. But when the 12 pack appeared at quitting time, Ralph’s good humor reappeared, too. And with the appearing beer, the memory of the ride disappeared. The man waited out front as the workers left. He looked sad as he finally drove away. As Ralph staggered out, he caught a glimpse of what appeared to be the man wiping a tear from his eye. That tear washed the away the soil burying Ralph’s secret, and that secret emerged from its grave. It staggered out, revealing the sad ugliness. Loneliness wrapped in fear emerged from the darkness, an undead vampire ready to again drink his life blood. Ralph struck the stake of denial in his heart, and laid his secret back in its grave.
Ralph saw the man from a distance several times in the next weeks, but he was always able to avoid him. Ralph couldn’t avoid thinking about him, however. The memory of the hand brushing back a tear haunted him. He had steeled himself against criticism. Indifference was harder, but he could handle it. Hatred didn’t affect him at all. Anger gave him strength. But tears for him! Even his mother hadn’t cried for him, she had only cried because she was ashamed of him. Her tears were like a flash flood that had carried away the last of his humanity. As he had reached out for hands to rescue him, the torrent of her tears had washed him away. Ralph began the long walk to Tommy’s to find blessed oblivion once again.
As the weeks passed, Ralph almost succeeded in forgetting the man. The only time he had a problem was late at night when the “anesthesia” wore off before the morning came. This was one of those nights. He had given up trying to sleep and sat on the porch. He had no “anesthesia” left and no money either. All he had was time and pain. He went in to get a drink of water and saw the note that had been lying on the counter with his life’s debris. He picked it up and tried to straighten it. Surprisingly, it was still legible. All it said was, “If you ever need someone, I’m here. Call me anytime. Your friend.” A phone number was at the bottom. Another stain was added to the note as a tear fell from Ralph’s eye and landed on the wrinkled paper. “Haven’t done that since I was three. What’s wrong with me?” It seemed as if someone else’s finger was dialing the number, but the scars and nicotine stains on the fingers were his own.
“Can you come?” he said without prelude when the call was answered on the fourth ring.
“I’m on my way. That’s what friends do”
Ralph talked that night more than he had since he was a little boy. His friend listened. Finally as dawn was peeking in the window, Ralph quietly asked the question that was screaming inside of him. “Why?”
“My friend told me that what I did for the most helpless, I was doing for Him. Actually, He said “the least of these,” but I like to put it in my own words so I understand better. He did the same thing Himself. He went looking for those who were hurting--like you. Would you like to hear some more?”
Ralph heard some more. He heard about a man who wasn’t welcomed by the shouting men of His time. He heard about how lies and gossip were spread about Him, too. He heard about how He was left to suffer alone so that no one would ever have to be alone again. He heard about how God’s rule gave boundaries set by love, not by fear and condemnation. He discovered that God’s boundaries are there to hold you close, like the mother’s embrace he had always longed for, but never received. Until that moment he had only known the prison of Fear’s barbed wire barriers. He had bloodied himself on those barbs of alcohol, drugs, and condemnation as he tried to find freedom. He knew he could never break through. That night Ralph found that a Man had laid His body over those barbs to allow Fear’s captives release, inviting even Ralph to use Him as a bridge to freedom.
Ralph relished his new life! He looked for a place to live out what he had experienced. He even visited Faith Church, but somehow, stained glass didn’t seem to fit with a stained heart. Oh, his heart wasn’t stained by his failures anymore, but it was stained with Another’s blood. Stained floors fit with stained hearts. Besides, when Ralph visited Faith Church, his work jeans and tee shirt were not as comfortable as they had been an hour before. As he walked in, it seemed as if he had passed through a check point designed to keep out the “unacceptable.” His jeans and tee shirt didn’t make the cut. Neither did he. God had found him in back of Tommy’s Place, with his jeans. Maybe God could use him to find stained hearts in stained jeans at Tommy’s. He would go into places where the Kingdom of Fear had a grip on men’s hearts, and where they weren’t afraid to admit it. He would be a secret messenger carrying hope to the helpless, like himself…..
“I need a drink,” Ralph thought to himself as he walked into Tommy’s Place.
“The usual, Tommy.”
Tommy, knowing exactly what was wanted and what was needed, filled Ralph’s glass nearly to the brim with 7-Up. Without a word, Ralph’s money was put on the bar, taken, change offered and refused. Just like every day. Just at this same time.
Tommy smiled. Ralph nodded. He walked across the floor, stained with years of life. Then he sat at the table by the picture, the faded picture of Pete Rose stealing Home. Others nodded to Ralph in acknowledgment. A couple of men began making their way to his table, their table. One, then another, came in and had their everyday transactions with Tommy, before coming to the table.
George, talkative as usual, started the conversation. “My crew broke ground for that big addition to Faith Church today. We’ll be there for months. I hope it works out better than the last job we did for them. Lord knows we need the work, but we don’t need the aggravation. All day long, people come by and tell us what to do, but each one has a different idea...” George stopped in mid sentence as he saw the pain in Ralph’s eyes.
Jerry, not picking up on Ralph’s silent words, took the pause as an opportunity to jump in. “My Ex goes there. When I was picking up the kids for the week end, I couldn’t help hearing her talk to her friend about the ‘discussion’ of the decorating committee. At least three couples walked out of that meeting! And the lady who was trying to lead the committee ran out crying after one of the older ladies told her, in front of everyone, ‘For your own good, dear, you need to know that your decorating ideas for a church are not in very good taste. For a casino like I see on TV, maybe, but not for a church. I only say this to be honest.’”
David, putting his hand on Jerry’s arm, bent over and whispered in his ear. Jerry nodded, made eye contact with those at the table. His eyes met Ralph’s last. “Sorry Ralph. Sorry guys. I wasn’t thinking.” Several of the men nodded and a few seemed confused. Everyone waited for Ralph to speak...
“Let’s talk about Jesus,” Ralph said to the men with stained hearts. “Does He complain about how rotten we are? Does He spend all His time inside the walls people have made, or does He come looking for hurting, lonely people? Does He really want anything to do with a vomit smeared drunk like me? Or like you?”
Thursday, December 24, 2009
A recent major storm sent me out, with snow shovel in hand, to deal with a significant accumulation of ice and snow. As my neighbor and I were both shoveling our driveways, we would take an occasional break and chat. As we talked, I saw, with some jealousy, that his driveway was getting cleaned thoroughly, while I was settling for two single tracks. Freezing rain followed by six inches of snow was making it hard work and I was tired! My neighbor was too, and probably had others duties that demanded his attention. After he finished his driveway, he stopped shoveling. His sidewalk remained untouched.
My other next door neighbor gets out his snow blower every time there is a couple of inches of snow. After he takes care of his driveway and sidewalks, he continues on. I’ve often come home from work, ready to shovel, and the sidewalk has already been done. I believe that sometimes he even goes around the whole block, doing everyone’s public walk.
Both my neighbors are nice guys. Both speak to me. Both have done me favors. In fact, both are probably better neighbors than I am. But they have profoundly different ways of looking at the world. It reminds me of the story of the Good Samaritan from Luke 10.
25 On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. "Teacher," he asked, "what must I do to inherit eternal life?" 26 "What is written in the Law?" he replied. "How do you read it?" 27 He answered: "'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind'; and, 'Love your neighbor as yourself.'" 28 "You have answered correctly," Jesus replied. "Do this and you will live." 29 But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, "And who is my neighbor?" 30 In reply Jesus said: "A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he fell into the hands of robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. 31 A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. 32 So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. 33 But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. 34 He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, took him to an inn and took care of him. 35 The next day he took out two silver coins and gave them to the innkeeper. 'Look after him,' he said, 'and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.' 36 "Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?" 37 The expert in the law replied, "The one who had mercy on him." Jesus told him, "Go and do likewise."
Jesus’ parable breaks the myth that a personal relationship with God is the only thing that really matters. To those who heard Jesus’ words, priests and Levites would be important people to their community, and a Samaritan would be someone to avoid as an outcast because he didn’t worship God in the “right way.” A priest had very specific duties given by God in the Temple. Without priests offering service and sacrifice, it was impossible for God to not reject His people because of their sin and uncleanness. Levites would have the privilege of serving God in the Temple as the Levites assistants. Very specific rules were given by God on how these things were to be done. Priests had been killed by God for not taking them seriously. These rules included being ritually clean through not touching a dead person, or one who had a discharge from an infected wound. The importance of these duties, and the importance of not being temporarily disqualified would have been clear to the listeners. They both had good reason to not get involved! The Law made this very clear. The man in story was half dead, and perhaps appeared dead. Or his wounds may have been oozing pus. The error of each was choosing personal faithfulness to God to the exclusion of compassion for his “neighbor.”
Jesus’ parables are meant to be uncomfortable. They are meant to stretch boundaries, and to show us our own hypocrisy. They are meant to make difficult concepts understandable. To me, shoveling driveways and sidewalks is a parable from God. It shows me truth about myself. It shows me what my real priorities are.
The following might be my thoughts, or yours:
“So what if I don’t want to shovel my sidewalk! I’m tired after shoveling my driveway and I’ve got things to do! So what if my driveway is much more important to me! I’m doing it for my wife! I am doing it so I can go to work! To church! I need to go to the grocery to get food for my family! I need to go to my friend’s house! He needs my help”
So what indeed. This is important because it shows how I look at those around me. Am I like the priest and Levite, so caught up in my importance, or the importance of my duties, that I avoid someone in need as a distraction? Or am I like the Samaritan who had spent a lifetime being an obstacle to those with a pure religion, and knew how he longed to be treated. Am I like the religious leaders in Jesus’ parable to whom status and responsibility were more important than the people in need around them? For me, I must ask the question that was asked of Jesus: “Who is my neighbor?” Are the children going to the corner to catch the school bus my neighbors? Will they have to walk in the street, or can they use my sidewalk? What about the neighbor who walks her dog in front of my house? Am I limited to seeing my own needs, or do I see and respond to the needs of others? Am I an isolated individual, or am I a member of a community?
My neighbor with the snow blower sometimes shares something encouraging about our common faith, or shares interesting tidbits about his service at his local church. His words are not empty because I see how he treats his neighbor, me.
Some Hard Questions:
1. Who is your neighbor today?
2. What does God want you to do for him/her?
3. How are you like the priest and Levite?
4. How are you like the Samaritan?
5. Jesus tied inheriting eternal life to how you treat your neighbor. Are you comfortable with that? Why or why not?
My other next door neighbor gets out his snow blower every time there is a couple of inches of snow. After he takes care of his driveway and sidewalks, he continues on. I’ve often come home from work, ready to shovel, and the sidewalk has already been done. I believe that sometimes he even goes around the whole block, doing everyone’s public walk.
Both my neighbors are nice guys. Both speak to me. Both have done me favors. In fact, both are probably better neighbors than I am. But they have profoundly different ways of looking at the world. It reminds me of the story of the Good Samaritan from Luke 10.
25 On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. "Teacher," he asked, "what must I do to inherit eternal life?" 26 "What is written in the Law?" he replied. "How do you read it?" 27 He answered: "'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind'; and, 'Love your neighbor as yourself.'" 28 "You have answered correctly," Jesus replied. "Do this and you will live." 29 But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, "And who is my neighbor?" 30 In reply Jesus said: "A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he fell into the hands of robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. 31 A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. 32 So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. 33 But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. 34 He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, took him to an inn and took care of him. 35 The next day he took out two silver coins and gave them to the innkeeper. 'Look after him,' he said, 'and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.' 36 "Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?" 37 The expert in the law replied, "The one who had mercy on him." Jesus told him, "Go and do likewise."
Jesus’ parable breaks the myth that a personal relationship with God is the only thing that really matters. To those who heard Jesus’ words, priests and Levites would be important people to their community, and a Samaritan would be someone to avoid as an outcast because he didn’t worship God in the “right way.” A priest had very specific duties given by God in the Temple. Without priests offering service and sacrifice, it was impossible for God to not reject His people because of their sin and uncleanness. Levites would have the privilege of serving God in the Temple as the Levites assistants. Very specific rules were given by God on how these things were to be done. Priests had been killed by God for not taking them seriously. These rules included being ritually clean through not touching a dead person, or one who had a discharge from an infected wound. The importance of these duties, and the importance of not being temporarily disqualified would have been clear to the listeners. They both had good reason to not get involved! The Law made this very clear. The man in story was half dead, and perhaps appeared dead. Or his wounds may have been oozing pus. The error of each was choosing personal faithfulness to God to the exclusion of compassion for his “neighbor.”
Jesus’ parables are meant to be uncomfortable. They are meant to stretch boundaries, and to show us our own hypocrisy. They are meant to make difficult concepts understandable. To me, shoveling driveways and sidewalks is a parable from God. It shows me truth about myself. It shows me what my real priorities are.
The following might be my thoughts, or yours:
“So what if I don’t want to shovel my sidewalk! I’m tired after shoveling my driveway and I’ve got things to do! So what if my driveway is much more important to me! I’m doing it for my wife! I am doing it so I can go to work! To church! I need to go to the grocery to get food for my family! I need to go to my friend’s house! He needs my help”
So what indeed. This is important because it shows how I look at those around me. Am I like the priest and Levite, so caught up in my importance, or the importance of my duties, that I avoid someone in need as a distraction? Or am I like the Samaritan who had spent a lifetime being an obstacle to those with a pure religion, and knew how he longed to be treated. Am I like the religious leaders in Jesus’ parable to whom status and responsibility were more important than the people in need around them? For me, I must ask the question that was asked of Jesus: “Who is my neighbor?” Are the children going to the corner to catch the school bus my neighbors? Will they have to walk in the street, or can they use my sidewalk? What about the neighbor who walks her dog in front of my house? Am I limited to seeing my own needs, or do I see and respond to the needs of others? Am I an isolated individual, or am I a member of a community?
My neighbor with the snow blower sometimes shares something encouraging about our common faith, or shares interesting tidbits about his service at his local church. His words are not empty because I see how he treats his neighbor, me.
Some Hard Questions:
1. Who is your neighbor today?
2. What does God want you to do for him/her?
3. How are you like the priest and Levite?
4. How are you like the Samaritan?
5. Jesus tied inheriting eternal life to how you treat your neighbor. Are you comfortable with that? Why or why not?
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