Where Does He Go?

I sometimes see or hear comments about those homeless people who you see on the streets, wondering why they don’t find employment, find training for a vocation, or otherwise get off of the street.  Let me tell you about one such man who is a “resident” of our church property in downtown Wichita.

Johnny (not his real name) came to our campus about six months ago.  He had just been placed on parole and got out of prison after serving time most of his adult life for several offenses.  When he was placed on parole, he was released with the amount of money he had in his prison account (less than $100), and the clothes he had while in prison.  He was instructed to report to his parole officer and establish a professional relationship with that person.  Transportation was provided for him to come to Wichita where his parole officer was located.

Johnny has a Social Security card, but because he has spent most of his adult life in prison, he has not worked enough quarters (he needed 40 three-month quarters) to qualify for Social Security or Medicare, even though he is 63 years old.  He COULD possibly qualify for disability when he turns 65, but that is not a given.

He does not qualify for food stamps or many government benefits due to his criminal record.  Because he does not qualify for food stamps, he also does not qualify for a government-paid cell phone, even though his parole officer has ordered him to obtain one so she can contact him when needed.  (And if he can’t get one, he is eligible for re-incarceration.)  He has no money otherwise to get a phone, and would not pass a credit check in any event.  He can’t get a prepaid phone because the companies that do that demand a home address.  He has none.

He cannot borrow money.  He has no credit history.  Family long ago disowned him due to his convictions and incarceration.  He does not qualify for many re-training programs or housing programs due to either his age or his history.  Most companies and businesses wouldn’t even look at him to hire because of his age and incarceration history.  He is relatively healthy, and takes advantage of free clinics whenever possible.  He keeps as clean as he can.

Johnny had to find his own counseling service, a condition of his parole.  He had to find one close to where he resides…our campus…because he has to walk everywhere he goes.

Johnny doesn’t want to be here.  He wants a normal life, or as normal as possible.  He is friendly, outgoing, and has a moral compass that works.  However, roadblocks seem to appear in his way each time he tries a route to get out of the cycle of homelessness.  Many of the programs designed to help…don’t help those like him.

So, where does Johnny go?  What does Johnny do?  What would you suggest to Johnny that would get him out of this cycle?  Which platitude that is often said would be the one he could grab hold of and lean on?  No address.  No transportation.  No phone.  No family.  No way to regularly wash clothes and self.  No income.  No government programs that he and I are aware of.  No ID other than a Social Security card and a prison ID.  Not qualified for Social Security or disability at this time.

And who does he turn to for help?  Thankfully, Johnny landed here.  We aren’t able to do much, but we can give him dignity, respect, and from time to time some food, shelter, a restroom, etc.  And we do.  But those things aren’t going to get him out of where he is…those are only going to help maintain him as he is and may prevent him from becoming a statistic of some kind.

If someone has the magic answer, I’m all ears.  Otherwise, we’ll keep plugging away with what we have to work with.  Blessings.

It's About Time

I recently posted a “thing” on my Facebook wall in which I lamented the lack of people writing posts…but rather they just post photos and memes.  One of the respondents, my friend and distant relative Melanie, said that she didn’t post much out of a fear of being attacked by others or turning the post into something political.

At the end of Melanie’s response to my post, she said something that bore through me to the core.  “I guess we can act like Christ said we should next year…or the year after that…or maybe just whenever it is convenient.”

Whoa!!  “Whenever it is convenient?”  Did she really say that?  Yes, she did, and she is absolutely correct.  Far too many of us who call ourselves Christians act like Christ only when we feel like it, when we want to do it, when it is politically advantageous, or when it will benefit us.  All the rest of the time, with a cavalier attitude, we belittle, begrudge, besmirch, malign, impugn, smack down, take down, put down, bully, and generally grind anyone who may disagree with us or have another idea or opinion into the dust.  It’s done all the time at the highest levels of government as well as between friends, relatives, and neighbors.

People are “unfriended” on social media, or are the ones doing the “unfriending.”  Relatives cease to communicate with each other.  Married couples divorce or separate.  Co-workers avoid one-another and don’t even recognize the existence of others with whom they disagree.  Sometimes, this is all taken farther along by a few zealots, and people are physically attacked, beaten, and murdered…all in the name of asserting that I am right and you are so, so wrong.

And then, when it’s convenient, some of these same people attend church, sing in the church choir, serve on a church board, teach a Sunday school class, take of the Eucharist, and proclaim their allegiance to Jesus Christ.

Do you think that God might be getting just a little tired of the charade?  Do you think that God just might be considering some kind of justice and retribution?

“I hate, I despise your religious festivals; your assemblies are a stench to me.  Away with the noise of your songs!  I will not listen to the music of your harps.  .  (They) cry out to me, ‘Our God, we acknowledge you!’  But (they) have rejected what is good.

“What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with your God.”

So, when will those of us who are Christians who are doing the maligning, putting down, and bullying going to begin to live like Christians?  Next week?  Next year?  In a couple of years?  Whenever it is convenient?  Or are we going to wait until God finally has had His fill and says, “ENOUGH!!”  Then we look around at the carnage of our lives, and wonder why things have worked out for us like they have and why God seems to be absent from our lives.

It doesn’t matter that the quotes of the Bible I have above are from the Old Testament.  God never changes.  If he was tired of the charade then, he’s also tired of the charade now.  It’s time we all took an unbiased look at how we interact with others, both on social media and in person.  It’s time we repented and started acting like the Christians we claim to be.  It’s time we do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with our God.

It All Matters

This past week, RiverWalk lost three of its long time members, each of whom had arrived at or near the century mark.  Almost 300 years of faith and history was taken from us in the span of a few days.

Sunday evening, at our regular small group gathering, I ditched the normal review of the morning sermon in favor of asking my group to reminisce.  I opened with, “What is the first thing that comes to your mind when I say - - - - - - ?” and put one of the names in the question.

That questions started a great time of remembrance, thanksgiving, and hope.  Some of our small group only knew the deceased for a few years; others had known them all of their lives.  Yet we all were grateful for having known and loved them, and in turn being known and loved by them.

At the close of the time, I asked the group what we could take away from the lives of these three saints of God.  How do we go forward and honor their lives?  The comments that came were that they were great examples of faith…that they finished well…that they influenced many.

I closed by putting all of those comments together in a sort of sermonette by saying to the effect that these were ordinary people living ordinary lives, doing ordinary things in life…yet they indelibly touched the lives of countless many in ways totally unknown to them through their work.  They taught Sunday School classes.  They counseled and gave advice.  They lived lives of integrity and purpose.  They served the church family.  They went to work.  They served on committees.  They raised families.  But most of all, they displayed the love of God in what they did.

We often think of our lives as routine and ordinary.  But these three show us clearly that we don’t live in a vacuum.  What we do matters.  How we do it matters.  What we say matters.  How we say it matters.  Love God.  Love your neighbor.  All else depends on these.

They Did Good

I have no compunction in letting the world know when something isn't right in the realm of my relationships with retail establishments. I also like to tell of good things, and am doing so here. This involves a trip to the local Dillons on a Saturday afternoon. Going grocery shopping isn't my favorite thing to do in my list of chores, and doing it on Saturday afternoon is worse than normal. But it had to be done, as it was getting rather bare at the Plank home. And no, I'm not going to have someone shop for me or do it online. I'll pick out my own bananas, thank you.

I got the required things, and a few extra. I figured about 80 dollars or so was in my cart. I found a check-out line that didn't seem too busy, staffed by a woman I casually knew, and I knew that she knew that I was a long-time shopper at this store. After the people ahead of me finished and left, I sidled up to the credit card pay thingy and saw that the screen said, “continue checking out.” That didn't look quite right, so I pushed the “cancel” button and it went away and the “fresh” screen came on, allowing me to enter my shopper's reward. Sarah began checking me out, and we engaged in some conversation about why she was at the register instead of where she normally works. She said that there were four call-in's today and she was “recruited” to man (excuse me, woman) a register. She said she didn't do it often, and it was apparent in her movements. They weren't as “polished” as someone's would be who did that job all day long. We talked for a couple of minutes while she checked me, and a nice young man sacked my groceries after asking if plastic was OK.

While she was checking me, I went ahead and ran my card through. When she finished, she handed me the receipt and we finished our conversation. I left.

When I got home, I discovered that I had been charged over 200 dollars for about 80 dollars worth of groceries. It didn't take me long to realize that the people prior to me either never paid, or Sarah never rang up the payment. Recalling events, I think it might have been the latter. I found the dividing line between their groceries and mine, and went back to the store to see if I could make it right. All the way there, I was rehearsing what I would say and what I could say if the person at the help counter didn't believe me. I was just hoping Sarah was still there if I needed her.

I went in, went to the help counter, and gave a sigh of relief that Landon was manning the counter. He and I are also acquainted with each other through my long-time going to that store. I explained what happened, and Landon immediately began adding up the rogue charges. He entered the total in the register, added tax, and I swiped my card for a refund, signed a receipt to give back to him, and expressed by desire that Sarah not be held to account for this error. He assured me it was not a problem and she would be fine. He said he did not have to fill out any forms or make any report, other than the original receipt I gave him. I thanked him profusely and left.

A couple of points here...and lessons.

1. Check your receipt BEFORE you leave the store.

2. Do your best to befriend those you notice in a store who are stable employees. You may need them at some time in the future.

3. Don't jump to conclusions about how a scenario will play out. You will probably be wrong anyway.

4. Thank God for people who trust you when you say something.

Dillons, Sarah, and Landon did good Saturday. They deserve to be recognized.

Food For Thought & Call to Action

I commend this article to you, written by Rebecca McLaughlin.  The title of it is, “Why I Don’t Sit With My Husband At Church.”  Immediately below is a short bio on McLaughlin.

Rebecca McLaughlin holds a PhD from Cambridge University as well as a theology degree from Oak Hill Seminary.  Formerly vice president of content at The Veritas Forum, Rebecca is now co-founder of Vocable Communications.  Her first book, Confronting Christianity: 12 Hard Questions for the World's Largest Worldview, will be published by Crossway in 2019. Follow her on Twitter or at rebeccamclaughlin.org. This piece was adapted from a previous post published on McLaughlin’s blog.

“Are you and Bryan okay?” asked a friend.

“Yes, why?”

“I noticed you weren’t sitting together in church.”

I often hear this question. The answer hinges on the rising need for hospitality in church.

Gospel invitation has always been the call of Christ, but it’s all the more urgent as 21st-century American Christianity suffers from thin discipleship, and American culture no longer pushes people toward church. Every week, men and women wander into our gatherings for the first time, some invited, others of their own accord. Some have recently moved and are seeking community while others haven’t been to church in a while, or ever. Their experience will determine whether they ever come back.

For my husband and me, offering hospitality has meant breaking down a common church practice: sitting together as a family.

Here are five reasons why we often separate on Sunday mornings:

1. Outsiders shouldn’t be outsiders.

A year ago, I looked behind me during the early service and noticed a woman in her late 20s standing at the back of the church alone. She hovered, looking for a place to sit in a service mostly filled with families. Our church is majority white; she is black. Many of us have been here for years; she was new. When I beckoned to her, she looked confused. I felt embarrassed. Then I asked myself, “Would I rather be too friendly or risk her feeling like no one cared?” I walked over and said, “Please, come sit with me!”

After the service, we talked briefly. When she left, I wondered if I’d put her off. But later that week, our pastor emailed to let me know that a newcomer had reported being welcomed by a British woman with small children and how much it had meant to her.

Every Sunday, my husband and I walk into church and see someone new sitting alone. If possible, we go and sit with them. If there are two people, we divide. It’s often awkward and uncomfortable but nonetheless worth it. Why? Because the gospel is a story of juxtaposition in community: Jesus sat with a Samaritan woman and asked her for a drink. Phillip got into the chariot with an Ethiopian eunuch. The early church ate together.

Our Sunday mornings do not require “having it together,” but they do require being together. Newcomers need us and we need them.

2. Family is more than immediate family.

My younger daughter loves another couple in our church. She often sits with them, and people routinely think that my friend is her mom. When my friend has had a hard week, my daughter’s affection encourages her, which in turn gladdens my heart and reminds me of a simple but poignant truth—that we’re all family in the church.

The Bible insists on this: We are brothers and sisters in one body. As part of this body, my five-year-old does not need my undivided attention. She belongs to a much bigger story, a gospel story in which she is an active participant, not just a pre-Christian, training within the confines of the nuclear family for a future role that might one day be outward-looking. Liuan Huska’s recent article on attachment parenting makes the point that the Christian family is not a closed unit but rather part of a larger ecosystem. Community starts now.

Although being a healthy family sometimes requires drawing boundaries, we must be careful how we operate in community. If we close off in biological pods every Sunday, we leave out singles, newcomers, and others. If we open up, we experience a gospel gift—the body of Christ in all its fullness.

3. Your spouse is too much like you.

My husband and I joke that we have very little in common: He’s from Oklahoma; I’m from England. He’s an engineer; I’m an English literature nerd. The list goes on. But at the end of the day, most of us marry people who are, broadly speaking, like us. Even marriages formed across racial or cultural difference seldom transgress socio-economic, age, or educational divides.

If our churches are in the messy gospel business of fostering family across differences, then it makes sense to sit with others unlike us.

Sometimes this means traversing racial divides. My brothers and sisters of color have felt the weight of political disappointment in unique ways in the last two years, and some are part of a quiet exodus from majority-white churches. I mourn this exodus and long for us to live as the unified body of Christ. When I sit with friends of color at church, I get a tiny foretaste of the vision cast in Scripture: people from every tribe and tongue and nation worshiping Jesus.

It’s also vital for us to create bonds across socioeconomic divides. For my husband, this often means sitting with guys who experience life circumstances he as a middle-class professional doesn’t face.

Although it’s sometimes hard to find commonality with people whose lives are different than our own, nonetheless it’s part of our beautiful calling as a church, where there is neither Jew nor Greek, black, white, or Asian, male nor female, slave nor free, single or married, prosperous or unemployed, wealthy or homeless, but Christ is all and is in all (Gal. 3:28).

4. Your marriage isn’t only for your benefit.

Marriage is a gift that we steward not just for ourselves and our children but also for the church. People in healthy marriages are outward-looking, spurring one another on to love and good deeds (Heb. 10:24). Of course, spouses sometimes need each other in church. There are times when I’m so broken internally after a painful week that I need to sit together with my husband and experience healing in common worship. For other couples, sitting together will be the right decision for prolonged periods of time. But if all is well in our marriages, we should feel driven to love not just our spouse but others, as well.

One Sunday, for example, I was comforting a friend going through a divorce. She was sitting with me, and I had my arm around her for much of the service. At one point, my husband put his arm around me. Although I usually delight in physical affection, I gently withdrew. The last thing my friend needed emotionally right then was to witness happy couple PDA.

God designed marriage to be a picture of the church—a place where we welcome newcomers and model a form of family that transcends biological kin.

5. We all need disillusionment with church.

Many of us leave the church because we have become disillusioned. But what if disillusionment is part of the point? “Innumerable times a whole Christian community has broken down because it had sprung from a wish dream,” wrote the German pastor-theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer. “But God speedily shatters those dreams.”

Bonhoeffer knew disappointment with the church on an epic scale. But he writes, “Just as surely as God desires to lead us to a knowledge of genuine Christian fellowship, so surely must we be overwhelmed by a great sense of disillusionment with others, with Christians in general, and, if we are fortunate, with ourselves.”

Disillusionment, argues Bonhoeffer, is not the end of Christian community but rather the entry point. We can only truly know Christ in each other when our dreams have been shattered and we see the broken sinners around us for who they are. What is worse, they must see us. Like the first Christians, all of us will utterly fail to live up to the biblical ideal. But if our faith is built on a man on a cross, failure is not the end, a sign that it’s has all gone wrong and we better find another church. Instead, it’s the beginning. We can’t find resurrection except through death.

My hope is that, in the midst of our disillusionment with church, all of us—marrieds, singles, and kids—will grow in our sacrificial love for each other as we reach across our differences. And perhaps one day, my friend and I will look at each other with concern and ask, “Are you and your husband okay? I noticed you were sitting together in church.”