Like so many others, I am indebted to Tony Campolo. Thank you. He doesn't know me, but I am one among the many who have been moved to take action because of his persuasive preaching. At one of the early Hawaiian Island Ministries conferences I attended, he concluded his keynote speech/preaching with a call to walk out the doors and sign up to support one of the children whose pictures could be found on the Compassion International tables. There was such power in his words that I couldn't help myself. I walked out those doors and signed up to support a child.
It reminded me of a time in the early 1980's when I heard Elie Wiesel, the great Nobel Prize winner and the voice for "never forgetting," speak at Notre Dame. He spoke passionately about the plight of the Soviet dissident Anatoly B. Shcharansky. He summoned the president of Notre Dame, another legendary figure, Fr. Ted Hesburgh, to come up on the stage. Together they stood, arm in arm, while Wiesel cried out with the conviction and passion of a prophet or a mad-man, "We must do something. We must do something." We believed that something was going to happen. And it was not so long before Shcharansky was freed. And not long after that the Soviet Union itself collapsed.
I am reminded of one of the early "conversion" experiences I had as an adult Christian. I had returned to the church and had set my sights on learning and praying with a seriousness and passion that I had not previously known as a child growing up in the church. I was ready to be serious about my faith. But, I was not prepared to be pulled from my chair, seemingly against my will.
That's what happened on the day that we were in church for the bishop's visitation. He had a number of folk to confirm, but after that he went on to call on anyone who was ready to make a new commitment to Jesus Christ to come forward for the laying on of hands. We sat in the front pews by that time – a sign of our "seriousness" I suppose. But I was determined that I was not going to be moved to action by these mere words of the bishop. I held on to the pew so as not to be pulled forward.
But then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the priest who had shepherded me back into the church. He was headed for the altar rail to renew his commitment to Jesus Christ. And in a brisk moment all my defenses collapsed. I flowed out of my seat and up to the bishop, and there experienced a "whirlwind" surround me. I would experience that same thing again when he ordained me deacon some years later.
We are called to be so much more, as the church, than we have been in the past. We have been called by preachers of power, by prophets of the Spirit, by Jesus himself, to be salt, to be a light to the world, to be a force in servanthood that can conquer the world's principalities.
I retold the story on Sunday that so many of us have heard before. Tony told the story – I have to believe – relating an actual experience he had here in Honolulu at one of those H.I.M. conferences. It is the story of Agnes' Birthday Party. I won't retell it here. You can easily find it by "googling". The content of the story is Honolulu, early in the dark hours of morning, prostitutes getting off work, bartenders serving all the late night folk, and a "preacher" who didn't know any better than to suggest throwing a birthday party for one of the prostitutes.
I told the story not for that content, but for the punch line of the story. The story is really about the church, the CHURCH, you and me, and our feeble attempts to do what Jesus said to do, "whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all."
Harry, the bartender in the story, says to Tony that there wasn't really a church like that, because if there were, he'd have heard about it and joined it.
The point of the story is that there really is a church like that, a church that serves with power in the Spirit, to all and sundry. A church that gives away in abundance, because God first gave to us in an abundance we cannot even measure. There is a church like that. But it is often under the radar of most people.
I heard just today about one person who takes the trouble to prepare a meal twice a week to deliver to the homeless at a local park. He takes along fresh and clean clothes to exchange for the dirty clothes they wear. He's not doing it for recognition. He's doing it for love – for the love of God.
There really is a church like that, but all too often we have fallen short of being such a church. God have mercy upon us. God give us the grace to be able to change. Thank you.
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