Always

It had gotten dangerous.

I'd known him since he was a little kid and we'd always gotten along. I'd baptized him when he was a teen and though he'd since dropped out of church life, we visited regularly and kept up with each other's lives.

Though he ran his operation's territory on the streets with cruel, brute force, my family and I were always safe around him. He also made sure that his associates didn't mess with us, either.

But over about a six month time period, he went from friendly to cordial. Then to ambivalent. After that he started making subtle aggressive gestures toward me and toward the church.

Those gestures became less and less subtle. The family and I weren't afraid of him, but we knew not to engage him and to always give him his space.

I don't know what brought about these changes. I was not happy about them and was concerned about what might be next.

So I was a little apprehensive when he stepped out of a doorway onto the sidewalk in front of me that evening. I tried to move out of his way but he blocked my path then cornered me with my back to a car.

"I got the Birthday card from the church," he said. "You all are the ones who always remember. Thanks." He left.

We've been fine ever since. And I wasn't even the one who sent the card.

Finding ways of being consistent in ministry, from always having the church doors open at the scheduled times to always sending a birthday card, is an important way to show God's love. Because His love isn't dependant on the weather or the season and He's not too busy to remember to be present with us.

Clearly, I'm not God and I forget a lot of things. Plus the weather impacts what I want to do and my mood gets the best of me sometimes. But when His followers come together as the Church and prioritize what we will always make sure is done, mood and weather not withstanding, we live the love of the One who loves us, even when we're in a season when we've become become simply cordial or ambivalent or worse toward Him.

And through His consistent love we can bring surrender to the cruel, brute forces of the world.

Lord, thank you for promising to be with me always.

Celebrate

"Well, Happy Birthday!" I said to him and his mom. I was standing by their crowded front steps gathering information and filling in the "Date of Birth" blank on his camp form when I realized that it was his holiday.

After wishing him well I tried to move on to the next question. I was not successful.

The man who was also sitting on their steps dealing drugs called into the house to his associates. He announced that it was the boy's birthday and they all got excited. They came to the steps, greeted him boisterously, gave him big hugs, and each handed him cash.

The party spread to the stoop next door and those gather all came over for the celebration. More gave money. Another flagged down the ice cream truck and got him a treat.

After a few minutes I could see that the spontaneous party was just getting started and that there was no use in trying to finish the camp forms that night. I headed to the next campers house knowing I would have to get the other mundane information later.

I was frustrated to not have the forms done. The deadline for their submission was looming and it was hard to find his mom at home, much less lucent. Who knew if I would even be able to get this taken care of.

These are the kinds of moments that I'm reminded just how much of a Pharisee I can be. Of all the people on the steps that night, I'm the one who preaches about Joy, Hope, Love, and Peace yet was totally unprepared to celebrate his birthday. Gifts, food, and accolades seemed to pour out of nowhere from among all the others. The only thing I could focus on was the line that said, "Emergency Contact Information."

Don't get me wrong. What I was doing was important and necessary. But I thought it trumped the moment of celebrating the importance of this kid.

When I read the Gospels again, I see how Jesus got in trouble (with the Pharisees and Martha and the disciples and others) because he was ready and able to celebrate the goodness he found, even with those pesky tax collectors.

And if I were that kid, I would have seen both a group of people who were ready to drop everything to celebrate me and a person who only seemed interested in information about me. With whom would I have aligned my allegiance?

So it's not surprising, really, that 12 years later he's taken over for the men who once sat on his front steps. Oh, we still visit and he has good memories of activities at church and his week at camp. They are simply distant memories that he was able to share with the ones who he felt loved him the most.

Lord, let love be my only debt.