The Church that employed me as its "Professional Christian" had won an award. Miraculously, the Jefferson Street Baptist Chapel had morphed from a broken down, rag tag congregation of little old ladies into a vibrant, diverse, constantly-in-the-news group because we'd turned Sunday School rooms into apartments so homeless people would have a place to live and the Baptismal Pool into a bathtub so they would have a place to bath.
We reasoned that Church buildings are poor examples of stewardship. They sit vacate six days each week and we decided there was a better way to use a building to glorify God.
Having homeless people live in Sunday School rooms brought a life into the building that hadn't been there before. Before long, people who thought it was a cool idea began attending. Attendance went from 5 little old ladies to a couple of hundred.
Now as the Southern Baptist teach us, "Our Lord told us to count his sheep. Not feed them."
And someone in Baptist Corporate Headquarters in Nashville saw that our numbers were the roof!
Of course I was also counting every bath the homeless guys took as a Baptism and reporting that to sheep counters in Baptist Corporate Headquarters.
We'd received noticed that we were going to receive a trophy for shattering the Kentucky state record for Baptisms in a year AND it would be presented by the President of Kentucky Baptist Convention.
Obviously proud, we decided to spruce things up before they arrived on Sunday.
The building looked a little lived in and it needed painting. A group of church volunteers assembled and worked all Saturday to finish. Late in the day everyone was tired and ready to be finished. Besides we all wanted to be ready for Sunday morning trophy presentation.
So Bill Berry, not the former drummer for REM but the other one, "Brothers and sisters in Christ. Go home. There's only one wall left. I'll finish it."
We protested but he remained adamant. So we left.
Everything was perfect as I waited for the Baptist Ayatollah. The sanctuary was packed with proud members who I heard laughing and celebrating in anticipation of our award. When the Ayatollah arrived I proudly led him into the church.
His face went white.
In bold red letters on one wall of the sanctuary, Bill had painted the words "JESUS SHAVES!"
We never did get the award but we had one hell of a celebration.