Kicked out of Church

Bar Church was kicked out of the Oceanside Nursing Home today.

Apparently stripping the floors is more important to caring for the inmates than ... oh ... ministry they really enjoy and look forward to ... but it ain't happening today.

Floor wax is more important.

Now to put floor wax down in the Oceanside Nursing Home all the inmates ... who pay to be there ... are vacated the premises.

They are rolled outside in the hot weather with no ocean breeze.

The militant faction refuse to go ... knowing they've paid damn good money to stay cool ... remain inside the Air Conditioner lobby ... looking at us on the other side of the glass doors.

"We want you to play!" we hear their muted voices say from the outside.

I flash the "Peace Sign."

They flash it back and grin.

Being a loving person is hard enough.

Being a ministering loving person, doing it for free is harder.

Love being rejected is hardest of all.

We are one broke Church.

The only thing we have to give is ourselves which is what we do.

Because there's nothing else to give.

But we do it cheerfully and the inmates sing, laugh clap, shake tambourines and ... are crying on the other side of the door as we load up our gear.

"And if any place will not welcome you or listen to you, leave that place and shake the dust off your feet as a testimony against them" (Mark 6:11).

We wish it was that easy.

Love never is.

Leaving the Dead

I'm on bus load of Southern Baptist ministers in Washington D.C.

I'm the only one with long hair.

Honestly I normally wouldn't be caught dead with these people but it's a free trip and the first time I'm in the nation's Capitol.

They all wear three piece suits and, as usual, I sport a dark blue blazer, light blue shirt, sock tie, blue jeans and hiking boots.

I'm the lone inner city Southern Baptist minister on the bus.

It's not to say we don't get along ... well it is to mostly say we don't ... but sometimes we do ...just not often.

We're having breakfast hosted by Congress.

There are twenty of us and a bunch of members of the Kentucky delegation ... Mitch McConnell is one.

He says something but I can't get over how runny the scrambled eggs are!

They're not really cooked at all and lots of yellow juice sobs up the toast and the bacon's not really cooked either limply leaning over in my hand when I pick it up.

It dawns on me why Congress is so messed up ... their breakfast sucks!

They're as limo as the bacon.

On the other hand, Mitch McConnell and the other members of the Kentucky delegation spend lots of time kissing our ass ... proclaiming how much they believe in God ... how important we are to the fabric of society ... and asking us to pray for them in such difficult times.

They're as soft as the scrambled eggs.

I throw up a little in my mouth but swallow it back.

Back on the bus, we're off to the White House for a tour.

"Hey," I wave from the back row, "can you pull over and let me off? I'd rather walk and see some other things."

Dr. Russell Bennett grins happily and orders the driver over.

Making my down 14th towards Park, I'm continuously hit on by Hookers as I look for "Sojourners" ... a community and a magazine the few liberal Southern Baptists who exist read.

"Hey Baby," an old Hooker wearing a dirty white Fur coat asks, "want to buy me a cup of coffee?"

She used to be pretty.

It's freezing cold outside so as I'm walking with determined purpose she's jumping up and down on one leg trying to warm herself.

"Sure," I sigh and she leads me inside a grungy McDonalds.

"What did you do today?" Dr. Bennett asks in the lobby of The Willard Hotel before dinner where Mitch McConnell is joining us to talk more.

"Gospel stuff," I answer making my way to the bar.

"You want some wine?" I ask as I order.

Smiling and shaking his head, Russell walks away leaving me alone.