What do you think is the
goal of Jesus life and ministry? Why
does Jesus walk the earth? What’s his purpose?
Do you think that Jesus
came to walk the earth—to get people to be nice, to behave? Maybe.
Do you think he came to
walk the earth to help draw people into a closer relationship with God?
Probably—but maybe that’s just the tip of the iceberg—that maybe this
relationship we have been drawn into propels us to something further.
Do you think, perhaps, that
part of Jesus life and ministry was to announce, describe and usher in what
theologians call the kingdom of God?
I think this is where I fall down. That there is this dream that God has for the
world, that God has for our existence that we call the kingdom of God.
And that Jesus came to
say—this is what it looks like and this is how it happens And you get to be a part of it.
If we believe that the
kingdom is right now—then what do we do with these lessons that look like they
are all about behaving ourselves ---like the portion of the letter to the
Hebrew that we just read ---. Paul gives his congregation a long list of do’s
and don’t –about how they are to live— He says things like Let mutual love
continue—don’t forget to show hospitality to the stranger-remember those who
are in prison—let the marriage bed be undefiled—keep your lives free of the
love of money—be content with what you have.
The list goes on and on.
Good advice—right?
What if Paul is in some
way describing the kingdom, what if he is saying in those moments when we give
the thirsty a drink of water, when we provide hospitality or show love or
remember those in prison what if those are the building blocks that God uses to
construct the kingdom in our time.
Or what about Jesus’
commands today in the Gospel to take a lesser seat or to invite the less
fortunate to your house for supper—is this simply Jesus giving etiquette advice
for a dinner party? Acting like some miss
manners columnist? What if he is saying
that the kingdom of God is found in acts of humility when we don’t jockey for
the best seat or the best parking space—or that the kingdom is found when we
look at ways to include the less fortunate in our lives.
I would like to end with
a story from Tony Campolo- an evangelical preacher and sociologist. It happened
in Honolulu a few years back. He was
looking for a diner in the wee hours of the morning.
Here is the story in his
words--These are Tony’s words.
“Up a side street I found
a little place that was still open. I went in, took a seat on one of the stools
at the counter, and waited to be served. This was one of those sleazy places
that deserves the name, "greasy spoon." I did not even touch the
menu. I was afraid that if I opened the thing something gruesome would crawl
out. But it was the only place I could find.
The fat guy behind the
counter came over and asked me, "What d'ya want?"
I said I wanted a cup of
coffee and a donut.
He poured a cup of coffee,
wiped his grimy hand on his smudged apron, and then he grabbed a donut off the
shelf behind him. I'm a realist. I know that in the back room of that
restaurant, donuts are probably dropped on the floor and kicked around. But
when everything is out front where I could see it, I really would have
appreciated it if he had used a pair of tongs and placed the donut on some wax
paper.
As I sat there munching
on my donut and sipping my coffee at 3:30 in the morning, the door of the diner
suddenly swung open and, to my discomfort, in marched eight or nine provocative
and boisterous prostitutes.
It was a small place, and
they sat on either side of me. Their talk was loud and crude. I felt completely
out of place and was just about to make my getaway when I overheard the woman
beside me say, "Tomorrow's my birthday. I'm going to be 39."
Her "friend"
responded in a nasty tone, "So what do you want from me? A birthday party?
What do you want? Ya want me to get you a cake and sing 'Happy Birthday'?"
"Come on," said
the woman sitting next to me. "Why do you have to be so mean? I was just
telling you, that's all. Why do you have to put me down? I was just telling you
it was my birthday. I don't want anything from you. I mean, why should you give
me a birthday party? I've never had a birthday party in my whole life. Why
should I have one now?"
When I heard that, I made
a decision. I sat and waited until the women had left. Then I called over the
fat guy behind the counter, and I asked him, "Do they come in here every
night?"
"Yeah!" he
answered.
"The one right next
to me, does she come here every night?"
"Yeah!" he
said. "That's Agnes. Yeah, she comes in here every night. Why d'ya wanta
know?"
"Because I heard her
say that tomorrow is her birthday," I told him. "What do you say you
and I do something about that? What do you think about us throwing a birthday
party for her—right here—tomorrow night?"
A cute smile slowly
crossed his chubby cheeks, and he answered with measured delight, "That's
great! I like it! That's a great idea!"
Calling to his wife, who did the
cooking in the back room, he shouted, "Hey! Come out here! This guy's got
a great idea. Tomorrow's Agnes's birthday. This guy wants us to go in with him
and throw a birthday party for her—right here—tomorrow night!"
His wife came out of the back room all bright
and smiley. She said, "That's wonderful! You know Agnes is one of those
people who is really nice and kind, and nobody does anything nice and kind for
her."
"Look," I told
them, "if it's okay with you, I'll get back here tomorrow morning about
2:30 and decorate the place. I'll even get a birthday cake!"
"No way," said
Harry (that was his name). "The birthday cake's my thing. I'll make the
cake."
At 2:30 the next morning,
I was back at the diner. I had picked up some crepe-paper decorations at the
store and had made a sign out of big pieces of cardboard that read, "Happy
Birthday, Agnes!" I decorated the diner from one end to the other. I had
that diner looking good.
The woman who did the
cooking must have gotten the word out on the street, because by 3:15 every
prostitute in Honolulu was in the place. It was wall-to-wall prostitutes and me!
At 3:30 on the dot, the
door of the diner swung open, and in came Agnes and her friend. I had everybody
ready (after all, I was kind of the M.C. of the affair) and when they came in
we all screamed, "Happy birthday!"
Never have I seen a
person so flabbergasted, so
stunned, so shaken. Her mouth fell
open. Her legs seemed to buckle a bit. Her friend grabbed her arm to steady her.
As she was led to sit on one of the stools along the counter, we all sang
"Happy Birthday"' to her. As we came to the end of our singing with
"happy birthday, dear Agnes, happy birthday to you," her eyes
moistened. Then, when the birthday cake with all the candles on it was carried
out, she lost it and just openly cried.
Harry gruffly mumbled,
"Blow out the candles, Agnes! Come on! Blow out the candles! If you don't
blow out the candles, I'm gonna hafta blow out the candles." And, after an
endless few seconds, he did. Then he handed her a knife and told her, "Cut
the cake, Agnes. Yo, Agnes, we all want some cake."
Agnes looked down at the
cake. Then without taking her eyes off it, she slowly and softly said,
"Look, Harry, is it all right with you-- if I mean is it okay-- if I kind
of what I want to ask you is, is it O.K.
if I keep the cake a little while? I mean, is it all right if we don't eat it
right away?"
Harry shrugged and
answered, "Sure! It's O.K. If you want to keep the cake, keep the cake.
Take it home, if you want to."
"Can I?" she
asked. Then, looking at me, she said, "I live just down the street a
couple of doors. I want to take the cake home, okay? I'll be right back.
Honest!"
She got off the stool,
picked up the cake, and carrying it like it was the Holy Grail, walked slowly
toward the door. As we all just stood there motionless, she left.
When the door closed,
there was a stunned silence in the place. Not knowing what else to do, I broke
the silence by saying, "What do you say we pray?"
Looking back on it now,
it seems more than strange for a sociologist to be leading a prayer meeting
with a bunch of prostitutes in a diner in Honolulu at 3:30 in the morning. But
then it just felt like the right thing to do. I prayed for Agnes. I prayed for
her salvation. I prayed that her life would be changed and that God would be
good to her.
When I finished, Harry
leaned over the counter and with a trace of hostility in his voice, he said,
"Hey! You never told me you were a preacher. What kind of church do you
belong to?" In one of those moments when just the right words came, I
answered, "I belong to a church that throws birthday parties for whores at
3:30 in the morning."
Harry waited a moment and
then almost sneered as he answered, "No you don't. There's no church like
that. If there was, I'd join it. I'd join a church like that!"[1]
That is the kingdom of
God right now—that is why Jesus came --that is Paul telling his people to keep
on loving—to be generous—that’s why Jesus encourages folks to invite the poor,
the disabled, the hookers to dinner.
That’s the church we are called to be those a church that throws
birthday parties for hookers, a church that manifest God’s dream in our world.
AMEN
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