John Fischer The Catch

I’m sticking with this picture of the “REPENT” sign another day because something intrigues me about it.

Looking at it closely and noticing the shadows under the sign makes me believe the sign is nailed to a telephone pole. But for some reason, it makes me think of a cross. The fact that there is nothing in the background but blue sky and clouds would seem to support that. Our line of sight is looking up. And though you cannot see the crossbar, you subconsciously think it’s there.

Imagine for a moment, then, that it is a cross. The word “Repent” is well suited for the cross because it is all about the transformation the cross makes possible for you and me.

The cross is a stark reality. It’s a gruesome death. It is a sobering reminder of the seriousness of our sin and what it cost God to send his son to pay for it and get us back. But the cross is not a stopping place. (Marti is always talking about those who gather around the cross with their folding chairs and notebooks.) The cross made possible a new life, a new relationship, and a new covenant in Christ’s blood. That new life is represented by the cup (the wine) when we commemorate the Lord’s Supper.

That would be the blue sky and clouds on the other side of the cross. The point of the cross is to get beyond it – to pass through it to a changed life on the other side. God doesn’t want us to sit around mourning his death on the cross; he wants us to pass through it to the other side and become active followers of him, depending on his Spirit for our every step and manifesting the qualities and actions of Christ wherever we go. The cross is not the end; it is just the beginning.

We do carry around a physical body that still tends toward sin, but there is a new possibility. Jesus crucified that body’s power over us so that we don’t have to do what it tells us. We can choose a new way in the Spirit that has been provided. Like that Doors hit: “Break on through to the other side.” That would be what it means to repent.

“We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body.” (2 Corinthians 4:10)

In the tradition of the biblical seven abominations of God (Proverbs 6) and the Roman Catholic Church’s seven deadly sins, I am going to postulate on the seven deadliest sins of evangelicals because I am one and I am an expert. I am getting somewhat ahead of myself in that I haven’t thought of all seven yet, but I’m assuming it’s not going to be hard to come up with at least that many, and maybe there is something to that number. To this end, I invite any of you who have a good evangelical background as I do to add your own suggestions.

But here’s my first one, and if this is all we ever get to, it will be worth it. I’m going to call the first evangelical deadliest sin: INACTIVITY.

I truly think there is a subconscious effort among evangelicals to arrange spiritual and even biblical truths in such a way as to be impressed by them but not have them make any real demands on your life. It’s an unwritten rule of preaching not to say anything that would mess with the football game after the sermon. God forbid that we would actually have to do anything to change our lifestyle by following Jesus. The ideal evangelical sermon is one that wows everybody but asks nothing of anyone. God forbid that we should ever walk out of church and actually have to do something about what we just heard.

To this I would offer something that Jesus stated as a prerequisite to entering the kingdom of God. It was one simple word: REPENT.

Now the Encarta® World English Dictionary © 1999 Microsoft Corporation that came with my software defines repent as 1) to recognize the wrong in something you have done and be sorry about it, and 2) to feel regret about a sin or past actions and change your ways or habits.

I would suggest more people accept the first definition than the second, but the second is much closer to what Jesus meant when he said to repent. It means to change – to turn around and go another way.

Imagine how far an A.A. meeting would get if the only step was to feel sorry about what one’s disease is doing to oneself and one’s loved ones. How far would that get anybody? My ‘sorry’s to my wife are now pretty useless because of all the times I’ve been sorry and done nothing about changing the behavior that made me sorry in the first place.

The first step of A.A. may be to own up to one’s addiction and feel sorry about the damage done, but the other eleven are all about changing attitudes and behavior, declaring one’s inability to change without help, and being committed to a sponsor and the group to make sure you follow through with a change in behavior.

If it sounds like I am preaching to myself, it’s because I am. And unless you have arrived at your ultimate spiritual destination, I would venture that God has something he wants you to change right now. I’ll get to mine; you get to yours, but be willing to ask for help, because some of these behaviors are engrained pretty deeply and covered up by a thick skin of rationalization.

All right, we’ve finally got the video ready or you – the one you’ve been asking for – the one that has Marti and me doing what neither one of us should even try to do for the benefit of the Isaiah House women and their Fashion Show. It’s our “performance” of the Dirty Money hip hop hit, “Coming Home.” I am not a rapper; Marti is not a singer; but there we are anyway delivering a song that so perfectly matches the experience of many of these women.

We’ve looked at it before here, but this song has a simple but profound message. It is one of repentance – something that Jesus said was required in the process of salvation. In it, the singer admits his “mistakes,” “sins” and “shortcomings” (actual terms use in the song), turns from them, goes another way, and thanks the Lord for the second chance. It’s the song of the prodigal who came to his senses, turned around, humbled himself and came home. And for 65 women who have no home other than the one provided by the volunteers who love them, it’s a poignant expression.

Marti and I have been reflecting on why it was important for us to deliver this song. When we first started thinking about it, we knew we wanted to conclude our fashion show with it, but how? We could have just played the song but that wouldn’t have held their attention long enough to grasp the point of it. And later, we realized that if we somehow had Sean Combs himself to deliver his own song, it wouldn’t have worked as well as the two of us boldly – even foolishly having the guts to take on a genre completely out of our sphere of knowledge and experience. We basically made fools of ourselves and that was just what the moment called for.

Maybe it was a sort of celebration of all of us being in a place where we didn’t want to be, but found ourselves anyway – a place where we shouldn’t belong, but strangely do.

And maybe that too is a little like the kingdom of God on earth. It comes in the embracing of our weakness, and the vulnerability that unites us. We don’t want perfection here. Perfection would have driven us apart. Blessed are the poor in spirit, for surely, theirs is the kingdom of God. I think I understand a little more about that now.

[Warning: Rap traditionally has swear words as part of the culture out of which it was formed. As a songwriter, I believe in the integrity of what the writer wrote, so I delivered it that way. If it is offensive to some, it probably was meant to be, and I’ll gladly take the “rap” for that.]

“WHAT WOULD THIS SIGN NEED TO SAY FOR YOU TO BE HERE SUNDAY?”

The question was on the marquee of a Baptist church and captured in the picture here that I also used in yesterday’s Catch. I got to thinking, after I published it, that I would like to hear how some of you would answer this question. So that’s why I’m bringing it back for another day.

One of my most cherished moments as a singer came one weekend when I was speaking at a retreat put on by a popular singles group of about 200 very cool and obviously successful young adults from a downtown Presbyterian church. The retreat was being held at a Christian conference center on the right coast that also runs a very successful 90-day live-in program for alcoholics and drug addicts on adjacent property. It’s a unique pairing where the men do most of the chores around the camp as part of their rehab program, but are always in stark contrast to the shiny happy people usually attending the conference center. Nowhere is that contrast more apparent than when they are included in some of the events that go on at the retreat.

A perfect example was a concert I put on Saturday night after our speaking session was over. When the camp director asked if I wouldn’t mind having the men from the rehab program attend the concert, I enthusiastically welcomed the opportunity.

The first thing I noticed at the concert was that the men – about thirty of them – took the closest seats to the stage and the Presbyterian singles were scattered around the auditorium. I had a feeling that if the men hadn’t been there those seats would have been lefty empty anyway.

The second thing I noticed was how attentive and appreciative they were versus the conferees, who took the whole thing as rather a yawn.

Towards the end of the concert I did a song I knew would resonate with the rehab group. It was the Kris Kristofferson hit “Why Me, Lord?” with the chorus: Lord help me, Jesus/I’ve wasted it so, help me, Jesus/ I know what I am. Now that I know that I needed you so/Help me, Jesus, my soul’s in your hand.

When I got to the final chorus I did what I had done many times when performing this song – I shouted, “Sinners only on the chorus!”

Oh my… you should have seen the contrast! The guys acted like they had been waiting all their lives for this moment. They jumped up and belted out “Lord help me, Jesus…!” while the Presbyterians looked around at each other, somewhat unsure of themselves. There was nervous laughter among them, and a definite confusion over whether or not it was okay to be a sinner.

It is for this reason that I would put up on the church marquee: “SINNERS ONLY THIS SUNDAY,” and just see what happens.

Personally I think the closer church comes to resembling a recovery group meeting, the better off we’ll all be.

What would you like to see on the marquee? Let me know.

I don’t think Therese will mind if I pull from her comment on yesterday’s Catch about why, in many ways, the homeless are closer to the kingdom of God than those of us with homes. She commented, and rightfully so, how we needed to be “out among the poor and hurting who desperately need to be shown the same love, respect, grace, and mercy that we have been given from the Father.” But I had to raise her one and point out that it was not only OUT among the poor and hurting who desperately need to be shown the same love, respect, grace, and mercy that we have been given from the Father, it was IN among the poor and hurting who desperately need to be shown the same love, respect, grace, and mercy that we have been given from the Father.

The only difference between the hurting outside and the hurting inside is that those outside don’t know the Lord yet. Why is the gospel called good news if we aren’t in need of it all the time? The grace is fresh. It’s not leftover grace for those sins I used to commit. It’s today’s grace for today’s sin. It’s comfort for today’s sorrow, food for today’s hunger, hugs for today’s isolation, acceptance for today’s rejection, strength for today’s weakness, hope for today’s despair.

Church should be a place where a homeless person feels at home. Where a single mom feels no judgment, only mercy and understanding. Where a gay person feels the same. Where an immigrant feels like he found a nation. Where an alcoholic feels like he found a recovery group. Where a minority feels like he’s in a majority. Where a sinner knows he is among other sinners who found a savior, and will never let go.

We are all the same at the cross. We are all needy, hurting, desperate people. Salvation is never past tense. It is always painfully, realistically and wonderfully present.

Alas and did my Savior bleed
And did my Sovereign die
Would he devote that sacred head
For such a worm as I?

At the cross, at the cross
Where I first saw the light
And the burden on my heart rolled away
It was there by faith I received my sight
And now I am happy all the day
– from the hymn writer, Isaac Watts

Say goodbye to the Last Christian Church of Good People; say hello to the First Christian Church of Astonishingly Saved Sinners Constantly Blown Away by the Awesome Grace of an Awesome God.

The kingdom of God is here, but it’s not what you think.

I think that most people think the kingdom of God is filled with good people. The kingdom of God is good people who go to church, read their Bibles, pray, and constantly try to better themselves. Most of us would think the kingdom of God on earth would be full of the best people around. When we go to church, that’s, of course, who we expect to find there – the best people on earth. And if they’re not, they’re certainly trying to be.

Jesus said something radically different. It’s among the first things recorded as being taught by Jesus in the New Testament, yet we have been denying it and dancing around it ever since. We dance around it because our idea of what good Christian people are is threatened by it, as well as our idea of the people we want to be around – the group we want to be in. What Jesus taught about the kingdom of God is an affront to our best sensibilities. It violates any and every idea we have about religion and people who “get religion.” Our churches are full of people straightened up and flying right.

But what does Jesus say? “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled” (Matthew 5:3-6).

Who are these people who are among the most blessed on earth? They are spiritually impoverished. They cry a lot (things are obviously not going well for them). They have been beaten down by life, and they hunger and thirst for righteousness because they are so aware of their unrighteousness. I’m sorry folks: there is just no way to dress this up in Sunday best. These are hurting, needy people, and these are the people Jesus calls the best people on earth. The kingdom of God is being taken over by a bunch of vagabond, homeless losers.

I’ve always wondered about Matthew 11:2 when Jesus said, “From the days of John the Baptist until now, the kingdom of heaven has been subjected to violence, and violent people have been raiding it.” He was speaking to the Pharisees when he said this – the good people – and according to them, their whole world was being turned upside down. Their idea of the kingdom of God was being overthrown. Their sense of sensibility was being violated. Look who’s taking over the kingdom of God? Not these people! No wonder they wanted to kill Jesus.

I know that some of you are getting a little tired of hearing about the Isaiah House. You think we have been spending too much time on this, but that’s just because we have found the best people on earth. These people are blowing us away. We are having our idea of the kingdom of God overthrown. Let me tell you, the kingdom of God is much more prevalent at the Isaiah House than it is, or ever will be, at the First Christian Church of Good People.

This is not me, by the way. Just some other guy who thinks he is the king.

I woke up this morning realizing I had forgotten to thank my kids for their Father’s Day gift to me, which was to purchase and prepare last night’s dinner, and make pretty much of a fuss over me in general. I didn’t have to lift a finger. It wasn’t always easy not to. Anne made an incredible guacamole and Christopher cooked burgers on the grill. But for the “Grill King” to have nothing to do with the grill took more than a little restraint. I must admit, however, that once I resigned myself to doing nothing, I found it a rather pleasant experience.

I’m used to funding my own celebrations like my birthdays and Father’s Day. That’s what Dad’s do. And if I were better at giving, this would be my joy, but I’m more likely to be thinking that the gift I really want would be to not have to create a fuss over my own celebration!

I got to thinking about this later on and realized that God always funds his own celebrations, that is, there isn’t a thing we can bring him that didn’t come from him, including ourselves, and yet scripture teaches us that he is pleased with the praises of his people. There is something in the thinking of it and the doing of it that brings him pleasure. I think I understand that better after last night.

And speaking of Grill King, guess how much better he can do anything that we could bring him, the King of all Kings and Lord of Lords? It must require a great deal of restraint for him to sit back and appreciated our feeble offerings.

Could I have done a better hamburger than the one my son cooked for me last night? If I could, it still wouldn’t have tasted as good as the one I had.

“But You are holy, enthroned in the praises of Israel.” (Psalm 22:3)

We are sorry you all were not flies on the wall this morning at the Isaiah House. The place was buzzing with gratitude and joy over the Fashion Show and Soiree last night. Many thanks! – Gratefully, the Women of the Isaiah House

To My Dear Friends:

On most evenings after celebrating the lives of our Guests at the Isaiah House I am so full of a desire to tell you all about the experience that I sit down and tap away in spontaneous form.  However, last night was different. It required reflection – something contrary to my forward leaps in lateral thinking.

Isaiah says that it is justice, not charity, to provide for the widow, the orphan, the dispossessed and the stranger. It isn’t something extra that we do, but something we are obliged to do, to call ourselves human.  Justice will provide the means of survival to those who cannot provide it for themselves.

True charity begins where mere justice ends, when the people around a damaged life tear holes in the fabric of their lives to pick up the dispossessed person, like a dropped stitch, and invite them all the way in – to be our neighbors again, if they are willing. And so the guests of Isaiah House were given, not just what they need to survive another day, but tokens of beauty and power to take up their lives and livelihoods again.

You gave them the finest food and dressed them completely in your finest attire, from skin to accessories. You threw them a party and had each of them walk the runway, to the unctuous praise of an announcer. Women who were tired and sad a couple of hours earlier remembered (it is always simply a matter of remembering this, isn’t it?) how to be supermodels. And when the party is over, after midnight, the ball gown is still there. It was real.

On your behalf I gave my world premiere performance, singing the chorus of the P-Diddy hit “I’m Coming Home” so it would be me singing to them and not someone else. It was terrible, so of course the women clapped and cheered.

I’m coming home
I’m coming home
Tell the World I’m coming home
Let the rain wash away all the pain of yesterday
I know my kingdom awaits and they’ve forgiven my mistakes
I’m coming home
I’m coming home
Tell the World I’m coming home

The evening, and the much-needed attire for their new lives, hit home among the Guests. To walk into a shelter for the “homeless poor” is to take on the identity of the lost soul, the invisible person. The invisible person receives (if they will) a bed and a meal, and this is just; but it does not render them visible. It does not call them by name into life.

I am filled with deep respect, seeing one after another take in the message of the evening and receive their gifts and take their walk down the runway to enthusiastic applause and genuine admiration. To receive one must be very brave, and become vulnerable no matter how wrong vulnerability has come to seem. I saw faces alight with surprise, pain, hope and release, overcome by being seen again.

You did all of this and more. Thank you.

Marti

Bonnie was resplendent in her silk dress and pearl necklace with matching shoes – understated and elegant. Starla was dressed down, casual and stylin’ to Cindi Lauper’s “Girl’s Just Wanta Have Fun.” Teresa and Patricia hit the runway together sporting their new perfectly sized dresses sashaying to the rhythmic beat of “I Will Survive,” and somehow, you knew they would. But as expected, Beverly stole the show, filling out every inch of her size 24 three-piece print suit, bumping and grinding to “I Get Excited/And I just can’t hide it/I’m about to lose control and I think I like it.” A perfect song for Beverly who is always on the verge of losing control.

In every way, the First Annual Isaiah House Fashion Show was a huge success. Sixty women took with them as much as they could stuff into their allowable storage bins. There were lots of empty hangers on the ten racks lent for this event by Nordstrom. I will be delivering the remainder to other shelters in the area today.

At least 15 women braved the runway, at the enthusiastic encouragement of their friends flooding the ramp with the uniqueness of their own personalities, and you couldn’t help but believe this whole evening was a definite confidence level boost for everybody. And with their $20 Target gift cards, they can finish out their newly acquired “wardrobe” with something new and special “close to the skin.” I accepted an overwhelming amount of thanks on behalf of many of you who helped make this special event possible – something unheard of in the “the short and simple annals of the poor” (Thomas Gray).

Marti has definitely proven something here: What can happen when you treat people with the dignity they deserve as unique human beings made in the likeness of God, and loved unconditionally by him.

Oh yes, and Marti did sing, and I did rap. We have pictures to prove it.

So it’s all come down to this.

This is the day the Lord has made, and the day to bless a number of women who have not had things go very well for them. Like all of us, they have contributed to their misfortune – no one is entirely innocent – but God’s grace is no respecter of persons, or perhaps we should say it is a respecter of all persons.

Tonight, some people who have not been treated well by life will be treated like the queens that they are. Tonight their clothes will match their inner beauty, and perhaps, at least some of them will get a glimpse of their true identity.

Tonight the shoe is on the other foot. In a very small way, we get to turn the tide of culture, of society, of protocol, of opportunity. Tonight we get to bring 65 women off the street, clothe them in finery and treat them to a banquet. This is not a soup kitchen; it’s a fashion show, and a look at the star-studded cast tells you this is where you want to be.

Nor is it a joke. When Marti first started doing these events, I worried about this. I worried that they might think we were making a joke at their expense. But these women have consistently surprised us by enthusiastically stepped into any roll we’ve created for them. They have won academy awards, given acceptance speeches, danced with the stars, and celebrated teatime. No, if anything, the joke has been on us for thinking we were any different – that we were on the other side of the tracks, or the line, or the fence, or any barrier we have erected in our minds to assure us that we would never be in their predicament.

No, the joke’s on us. We are the ones with the impoverished souls and the ungodly attitudes. We are the ones who should laugh the loudest to think a few dollars could make any difference. Like the song says: “money can’t make up for it or conceal it.”

That is what makes this so good for everyone. Tonight we all get to be on the runway. Operation runway is just that – an operation that opens ones eyes to the Grace of God that humiliates us all, lifts us all up, and puts us all on display.

I’m personally rather tired of the song, but I must say that this time it’s really true: Tonight’s gonna be a good night.