Church with Prostitutes!

What kind of church do I want to build? Within the last few weeks, I’ve been attempting to answer that question with ruthless honesty. All I can tell you is where I am right now - I want a church of: 1) radical inclusion (inviting and welcoming everyone—yes, I mean everyone), 2) radical grace (choosing love over law every-time), and 3) radical service (“washing the feet” of our community).

But, I must be honest. I’m embarrassed at how often I fail to embrace these qualities. Although I am in the process of being re-converted to Christ, there were many years I led people away from God. I preached equality every Sunday but was filled with racism throughout the week. I talked about how Jesus reached out to the hurting and the forgotten, yet excluded people, who lived a lifestyle or practiced behaviors that I considered an “abomination unto God”. I preached about becoming the hands and feet of Jesus, but denied it at home with Lana and my kids. For years I was a bigoted, arrogant and unchristian pastor—I wasted so much time and discouraged so many people from following Jesus.

What began my re-conversion? The beauty of God’s grace – it is as simple as that. His grace is blinding me to what I once saw clearly and opening my eyes to what I could not see before.

I’ll keep you updated on my progress.

What kind of church do I want to build? Maybe the following story will help define it a little more clearly. A few years ago I read about the beauty of God’s grace demonstrated in the life of Tony Campolo. Please take a few minutes and the read the following true story, for it reveals the kind of church that I want to build.

Tony had just arrived in Hawaii for a conference; because Tony had traveled from east to west, his biological clock was thrown off and he found himself hungry and unable to sleep. It was 3:00 a.m. and the only place open was a dirty donut shop in downtown Waikiki, run by a guy named Harry.

As Tony sat there at the counter enjoying his donut and sipping his coffee, in walked eight or nine prostitutes just finished with a night's “work”. They all sat down at the counter and Tony found himself uncomfortably surrounded by a group of smoking, swearing hookers, discussing their night on the street.

He was finishing up his coffee, planning to make a quick getaway, when he heard the woman next to him say to her friend, "You know what? Tomorrow's my birthday. I'm gonna be 39."Her friend said cynically: "So what do you want from me? A birthday party? You want me to get a cake, and sing happy birthday to you?" The first woman said, "Aw, come on, why do you have to be so mean? Why do you have to put me down? I'm just saying it's my birthday. I don't want anything from you. I mean, why should I have a birthday party? I've never had a birthday party in my whole life. Why should I have one now?"

Instantly, Tony had an idea. Instead of running off, he sat and waited until the women left, and then he asked the guy at the counter, "Do they come in here every night?" "Yeah," he answered. "The one right next to me," he asked, "she comes in every night?" "Yeah," he said,"that's Agnes. Yeah, she's here every night. She's been coming here for years. Why do you want to know?" "Because she just said that tomorrow is her birthday. What do you think? Do you think we could maybe throw a little birthday party for her right here in the diner?" A smile crept over the gruff man's face. "That's great," he says, "yeah, that's great. I like it."

Tony said he'd be back at 2:30 the next morning with some decorations and Harry promised to make a cake. At 2:30 the next morning, Tony returned with crepe paper and other decorations and a sign made of big pieces of cardboard that said, "Happy Birthday, Agnes!"

Together, they decorated the diner from one end to the other. Harry had gotten the word out on the streets about the party and by 3:15 it seemed that every prostitute in Honolulu was in the place. At 3:30 on the dot, the door swung open and in walked Agnes and her friend.

Everybody yelled together: "Happy Birthday, Agnes!" Agnes was absolutely overcome with emotion. Her mouth fell open, her knees began to shake and she almost fell over. And as the birthday cake with all the candles was carried out, she totally lost it and began weeping. Harry, who was not used to seeing a prostitute cry, gruffly mumbled, "Blow out the candles, Agnes. Cut the cake." So Agnes pulled herself together and blew them out. Everyone cheered and yelled, "Cut the cake, Agnes, cut the cake!"

But Agnes looked down at the cake and, without taking her eyes off it, slowly said, "Look, Harry, is it all right with you if...I mean, if I don't...I mean, what I want to ask, is it OK if I keep the cake a little while? Is it all right if we don't eat it right away?" Harry didn't know what to say so he shrugged and said, "Sure, if that's what you want to do. Keep the cake. Take it home if you want."

Agnes got off her stool, picked up the cake, and carried it high in front of her like it was priceless. Everybody watched in stunned silence and when the door closed behind her, nobody seemed to know what to do. They look at each other. They look at Tony.

So Tony got up on a chair and said, "What do you say that we pray?" And there they were in a dirty, run-down, donut shop with half the prostitutes in Honolulu, at 3:30 a.m. listening to Tony Campolo pray for Agnes.

When he finished, Harry leaned over to Tony and said, "Hey, you never told me you were a preacher. What kind of church do you belong to anyway? It was one of those moments when just the right words came. Tony replied, "I belong to a church that throws birthday parties for prostitutes at 3:30 in the morning." Harry thought for a moment, and said, "No you don't. There's no church like that. If there was, I'd join it."

So would half of Elizabeth City!

What kind of church do I want to build? A church that throws birthday parties for prostitutes at 3:30 in the morning! Do you want to help build a church like that? If so, get some party supplies and set your alarm!

Re-converting everyday,

Scott