Jack’s Buzz

I just returned from San Francisco. I understand why people feel like they left their hearts there. It’s one of my favorite cities. 

While there, I attended a gathering of a few believers, a handful of crazy people, and I am very sure the Holy Spirit also attended. A fine Christian man from India led singing and Bible study.He was a pretty good singer, I was terrible, and the rest of the bunch was not much better than me. I made the rejects from first three weeks of American Idol look like The Supremes with special guests Tony Bennett and Luciano Pavarotti. I have a number of really spiritual friends who would tell you that Jesus loved our singing because it was all praising his name. Maybe that’s so, but only because Jesus has some wild, divine earplugs that can do to sound the same thing he did to leprous skin–make it clean.

The crazy people were at different levels of crazy. None was mean, but several of them might be able to get that way real fast. Some needed medicine. Some needed to stop taking street candy and start taking their medicine. Some needed to stop taking each others’ medicine and take no medicine at all for several months. All of them were broken in one way or another. All of them had been cast off from polite society. All of them have friends in low places. I’ve been in the physical neighborhoods like the ones where they live, and I have watched people in their mental neighborhoods, and it ain’t pretty. But I have friends in low places too, so that does not really bother me. 

We prepared some food together. My faith got a little weak a few times. There seemed to be a lot of dirt. The girl who helped me peel potatoes; well, I just knew there’d be a finger in the pot to flavor once they went in the kitchen to boil. There wasn’t even a nail shaving. One guy wanted to shake hands with my wife, but noticed that he had some food on his hand. So, he licked the food off his hand and offered it to her. She shook it. I went looking for the Purell.

One guy mistook me for guy who made a comment he did not like. It was really clear that he was confused, but I just had to apologize. Reminded me of parts of my family.

I was deeply impressed with the people who invited me to this gathering. They showed so much kindness and acceptance of people who were very different from themselves. They have connected with Jesus at a level that sees the people I’m describing as treasure. Not lip-service treasure. Not “look at me, I work with people on the down” treasure. Real treasure. Unlike me most of the time, they see people like God sees people. I will not say more about them except that they have a better handle on Christ’s love than I do. It made me want to go live in San Francisco so I could learn from them. 

Most of my students, friends, and family are very uncomfortable with and avoid this type of gathering. I know that working with the zanies is not the focus of my ministry, but I like going to these gatherings. I come away energized.

I usually leave wishing sane Christians measured faith more by the acts of people like the ones with whom I gathered (and sang badly) than by the cool, pretty measurements that we use. This will make sense in just a minute. I had my core shaken, and I think you should know how.

One of the people there–we will call her Lin–seemed close to normal. She had a pretty smile, and was genuinely helpful. Some of her mannerisms revealed a slight quirk, but nothing all that far out of whack. She maintained eye contact. She spoke beautifully, but was obviously shy. Janet and I found her endearing. Her clothing was a bit ragged but not dirty, nor did she carry a bad odor (neither did anyone else–this was not an entirely homeless crowd). In the middle of all the singing a guy came in who was lit up like Chinese New Year (which we witnessed in Chinatown earlier in the day). He tried to give her a peck on the cheek and she cringed like someone who did not want a peck on the cheek but was used to getting one whether she wanted it or not. She whispered something that made our new attender shuffle away. During our Bible study time, Lin spoke slowly and intelligently. 

After the gathering, as we were leaving, we met a man in the parking lot who claimed to have gone to Golden Gate and Southwestern Seminaries. He was deeply intoxicated, and had somehow lost his shoes and traveled what looked like a long way in a pair of tube socks. (My mind is racing with comments about seminarians, but I need to get us to a conclusion.) Someone told him there was food inside and he lost interest in us. Our ride needed to go. We left.

A couple hours later one of our hosts called to tell me what happened inside after we left. Lin caught the inebriated seminarian at the door, sat him down, and served him a plate of food. No one asked her to do this. 

When he finished eating, she sat at his feet, carefully removed his socks, and washed his feet. No one asked her to do this either. Then, she tended his sores and helped him put on a clean pair of socks. I cried when I heard the story and I was not even there–still crying as I try to retell it.

Sometimes you get to meet a disciple of Christ. A real one–one who cannot talk the talk as well as you or me, but who walks with Jesus. It is a shaking experience. Maybe Lin causes earthquakes in San Francisco; she gave me one. If you think of it, pray for her (Lin is not her name, but God will know who you’re asking about). Pray for me too, if you think of it.