From The Lord's Rain: "Do you want fries with that?"

"What's the difference between the churches?"

Joseph was in a somber mood, which often happens when he's been drinking, which is often. This is one of a number of people named Joseph that I know through The Lord's Rain. There's old Joe Trepanier; Joe, our new volunteer who stepped up after his friend, Ken Franklin, passed away last November; there's Joseph, who declared a couple of years ago that we were surrounded by Higgs Bosons, because the HB is called the "God Particle" and we are all particles of God; and then there's this Joseph, who knows his Bible well and has the call of an Evangelist on his life -- and has absolutely no idea what to do with it. 

Joseph had come up to me in Pigeon Park, with a look of bewilderment on his face. He also had a fat lip, and it was hard to tell if he had been in a fight or had simply run into something.

“I need you to pray for my brothers and sisters,” he said. When he asks for prayer, it's usually for others first. The Apostle Paul tells us we need to pray for all the saints (Eph. 6:18). We did. 

“Look at my hands, Pastor,” he said. “Look how dirty they are.”

“Come on in and wash up,” I said. “You can warm up, too.”

Joseph usually "sleeps rough", and I'm guessing it's because he doesn't feel safe in the shelters. Many of the homeless people have told me that. One night, I asked Joseph where he was sleeping. "Blood Alley," he replied. "I've spilled enough blood there; might as well live there!" He then exploded with a laugh.

He spent about five minutes with his hands under the water, scrubbing. Eventually, they came clean enough for him, so we sat down and that's when he asked his question.

“What’s the difference between the churches?” he asked.

Even with a load on, Joseph can ask some very probing questions.

“Like,” he went on, “say you’re driving down the road and there’s a McDonald’s … and there’s nothing but McDonald’s all along the road. And what if you don’t like McDonald’s?”

I got where he was going. “But instead there’s Burger King and IHOP and DQ.”

“Exactly. So what’s the difference?”

“So long as they’re using the same basic food on the menu,” I said, “what does it matter?”

Joseph paused for a long time. He was either taking that one in or formulating his next sentence.

“I was an altar boy, you know? Way up north. And my mom used to get me to read. They’d ask for someone to read in church, and she’d push me up there: ‘Get up there and read!’ she’d say.”

“Well, something sure stuck with you,” I said.

Another long pause.

“I went into foster care,” he said.

“What was that like?” I asked, expecting to hear some kind of horror story.

“I was a baby,” he said.

“Oh,” I said.

“But I remember it,” he said. That may have said more about his situation than any words.

===

In the last email, I mentioned Jeremy and how we try to care for him. But there is this violent side that I rarely see, but still hear about. Bill Piggott, who's been part of the Mission since long before I got there, showed up for the Sunday service the week before last with a huge shiner over his left eye. It turned out that Bill had spotted Jeremy outside the Mission on the day after Welfare Day, trying to rob an older man. Bill -- who's about six inches taller than Jeremy -- stepped in.

"Come on, Jeremy," he said. "Not in front of the Mission."

(Why shaking down an older guy would be OK, so long as it was away from the Mission, Bill did not explain.)

He took Jeremy by the shoulders and walked him away, at which point another guy appeared on the scene, and hauled off and cold-cocked Bill, glasses and all.

Apparently, Bill did not return evil for evil, but it does remind one about maintaining that delicate balance between trying to see people as God sees them ... and being ready to duck.

===

An old friend, whom we met through The Lord's Rain, has re-surfaced. Terry came to us in 2010 -- totally used-up, depressed, and on the verge of "doing something I shouldn't". He had been out all night, looking for someone to rob to get another hit of crack cocaine, and had been turned down at every shelter he'd looked at -- including Triage, the last-resort/emergency shelter that will generally find you at least a comfy chair, if not a bed.

John Sharp and I had prayed over Terry, and then we called Triage. And they had a bed for him. He went up there and checked in. From there, he was able to get into recovery programs, and he was baptized at Gospel Mission. Since then, we've more or less lost touch over the past couple of years, but from what he told me yesterday, life now is considerably different -- and considerably better.

Terry has often pointed to that Saturday morning in 2010 at The Lord's Rain as his point of "breakthrough", but the rest of his testimony speaks to two vital truths: one is that the actual turnaround in life is a long, often painful, process; the other is that once God gets His hook in you, that hook is barbed, and nearly impossible to get out.

Terry will be sharing his testimony on Sunday at Gospel Mission. We will post that on YouTube next week.