"I Met Jesus in the Little Girl's Bathroom"
Author: Deacon Deb Haynes
Two weeks ago, as part of our stewardship campaign, Pastor Mike was prepared to tell us his faith story, in particular how it relates to giving, what the theological meaning of that giving is to him, and what it looks like every day as he and Emma live their lives. He was sweating bullets with nervousness before the service and complaining that it was hot in here, so I was being a good colleague and encouraging him. I reminded him that God’s strength is shown to us in the vulnerability of Jesus on the cross, and that our greatest strength as believers can be when we are vulnerable too. After the service, I assured him that he had done well, and he immediately invited me to be vulnerable today. Oh boy. Me and my big mouth!
At first, I thought that my faith story would be boring to at least half of the people in this room, because you watched it happen. Then I remembered that the fun part of the holidays is when we sit around after dinner and tell family stories. This is one of Holy Trinity’s family stories.
I am a cradle Lutheran, born and raised in the very Lutheran Pennsylvania Dutch country a few hours north of here. My mom was a Sunday School teacher, both my parents took several turns on council, and now my mom is the head of the altar guild, the Genie Davis of the congregation I grew up in. I was confirmed and married, and my only child was baptized in that church in my hometown. But honestly, I did not know Jesus. Going to church every week, going to Sunday School, going on the confirmation retreat, that teaches you lots of things to know about Jesus but not necessarily to know Jesus. I think I was probably about 35 years old when I first met Jesus in another person, and I met him here. In the little girls’ bathroom of the old Sunday School wing, to be exact. They probably don’t remember it, but Terry and Linda Bathen were there too.
A few months before I met Jesus, I started having weird experiences. Strangers who needed help, people from outside my little suburban white college-educated professional bubble, kept turning up and getting my attention. I remember Brent Stone telling a story about giving a homeless man a ride and thinking with relief that these weird things happened to other people too. Then one evening at the grocery store, the cashier just poured out a horrendous, heartbreaking story to me as I stood there in horror with my organic milk. There was absolutely nothing I could do for this woman but listen to her story and then blurt out, “I’ll pray for you.” Now, I’m a cradle Lutheran. I’ve NEVER said “I’ll pray for you” out loud to anyone, not even family, surely never to a stranger! The very next day, I came in to see Pastor Jane, who was our Associate Pastor back then, and I told her “I think I’m going crazy. I think God wants me to do something, and I don’t know what it is.” She assured me that was the Holy Spirit, and I wasn’t going crazy. Cradle Lutherans aren’t real clear on the activity of the Holy Spirit – I remember as a kid being a little afraid of the Holy Ghost – so this was only a little bit of relief. Then she told me, “I’ve got something you could do.” A non-profit called FACETS needed churches to host hypothermia prevention shelters for the homeless, and council had agreed that we could participate if she could find leaders for the project. Next thing I knew, Chris Cooney and I were teamed up and this amazing congregation took a huge leap of faith with two leaders who knew absolutely nothing about running homeless shelters.
Our first year, our high attendance number was something like 72 people. Imagine, especially if you are a new member or a visitor, what having 72 people living downstairs was like. We had people sleeping in fellowship hall, in the nursery, in the preschool classrooms; we had movies in the choir room, and the trash overflowed, and it was wild and wonderful and crazy. We all learned a LOT about the activity of the Holy Spirit.
And one night, in the little girls’ bathroom, I met Jesus in another person. I sat with him at dinner that night, but I didn’t know it yet. One of the rules of leadership that my retired Navy dad taught me was to lead from in front, don’t ask your people to do anything you won’t do. Which means in hypothermia when I encourage the volunteers to eat dinner with the guests, that I go sit and eat with the big angry alcoholic who scares everybody a little. His name was Curtis, he called me “church lady” and was just barely civil. I felt like a complete failure at this radical hospitality thing we were doing.
Hours after dinner when everyone was sleeping, Terry and Linda were on rounds and discovered the toilet in the little girls bathroom had backed up, and it was beyond what we could solve with a plunger. I was standing there, in a half-inch of unmentionable water on the floor, contemplating how expensive emergency plumber visits are and how small our budget for this new hypo thing was, when Curtis loomed in the doorway. “Church lady, do you know how to use a snake?” “Ummm, no. What’s a snake?” I led Curtis to the janitor’s closet, he found the plumber’s snake and he solved the problem. And he taught me how to use the snake, just in case, and then he mopped the disgusting floor. This man was our GUEST. It was after dinner, after lights out. He had every right and every expectation of ignoring my problems and getting as much sleep as he could. He had a construction job and started work early. And yet, there he was, helping and teaching me, a spoiled clueless church lady.
That’s how I met Jesus. When our guest turned the tables on me, and he essentially became the host, taking care of me and my problems. Jesus is sneaky like that, he turns the tables on you and suddenly he’s there in the most unexpected people and places. The disciples who were on the road to Emmaus walked and talked with him and did not know him for hours, until they invited him to dinner and he took the bread, blessed and broke it and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened. I’d been walking with him for about 35 years when my eyes were finally opened, when I knew him in the stranger that I thought was my guest.
For those of you who don’t know me so well yet, the rest of the story is that I eventually went to seminary, became a Deacon and now I am ordained and called by our synod to serve at the Lamb Center, a drop-in for the homeless and poor in Fairfax. I spend my days up close with the rawness of life when it goes off the rails, with despair, mental illness and addiction. And with joy and recovery and healing. It’s a rollercoaster. It’s emotionally exhausting and the most fulfilling thing I have ever done.
I blame you for this, Holy Trinity! My story is a family story from here, woven in with all our other stories like the long story of the Davis family, with whom we celebrate Genie’s birthday today and also bid Godspeed to her grandson Matt. Our family stories are about what being in a relationship can do. In healthy relationships, we learn about generosity, about the stewardship of what we have and what we hold in common, and we learn to know Jesus. My relationship with Jesus was literally born here, in this building with these people, and now at the Lamb Center, I get to see him every day. I see him in our guests, I see him in my colleagues, I see him in our volunteers. And…I frequently have to deal with plumbing problems. And that’s really where the gospel lives. The sublime and the sewage. We know God in the hardest, messiest places in our lives. Jesus turns up in the people who come to help us, in the people we think we are sent to help. He’s always there.
Our story from 2 Kings is a story about God always being there. I’m a little stumped about what to say about the book of the law, the Torah, that was found and brought to King Josiah. The story is a little murky since Josiah is praised for being a good king, but he does not live or reign as long as the bad kings before and after him. The timing of this book of the law being found is suspiciously perfect too. We don’t know who the author of 2 Kings was, but we have lots of evidence that it was compiled and edited during the Exile by the person or persons that Bible scholars call the “Deuteronomistic Editor”. It’s a story about the end of the Assyrian Empire, when Judah had the freedom to return to its worship of the Lord and stop worshipping the pagan gods of the Assyrian conquerers. Written during the exile, it’s written when the people were again conquered, suffering and drawn away to worship other Gods. They were repeating their history. It’s a story about coming back to God, to being reunited with a covenant and living in right relationship with God. And it’s about the generosity of God who keeps giving second chances and making new covenants for the sake of love.
My story isn’t so different, really. I was going through life a lot more comfortably than a Jewish slave of the Assyrian or Babylonian Empire, but like them I was focused on the idols of my society and I certainly wasn’t seeing God as the Lord of my life. I didn’t find an ancient scroll telling me how to be right with God, but as the Holy Spirit worked in my life, I saw that Jesus was right there in front of me, inviting me into relationship. My story seems a little pat – I met Jesus in a homeless man, and now I serve the homeless. But it’s true, and it’s one of our stories as a community of Jesus followers here, in this time and place.
My story is also about the great generosity I have experienced here. You all have taken a chance on me many times, were generous with your time and your effort when we started the hypothermia shelter and you knew darn well I didn’t know what I was doing! You were patient and generous with me as a seminary student, buying my books and letting me practice on you what I was learning about preaching and teaching. Most of all, you have been lavish with your love and support as my family has gone through some painful, scary times of our own. Generosity and stewardship are as much about our hearts and our time and our effort as they are about our money. I learned that here, and I think it’s no accident that I learned them in the same community where I also learned to know Jesus. I hope that our booming group of children can grow up here and truly know Jesus. We can teach them a lot about Jesus, but more than that, I know from my own experience that we can teach them to know him. Jesus Christ the King, on the cross, walking on the road beside us, serving us and empowering us to serve others with all that we have and all that we are. Can I get an Amen? Amen!