Lucky 214

“Lucky 214”
The Rev. Dr. Fred G. Garry

Matthew 24.36-44

But about that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. For as the days of Noah were, so will be the coming of the Son of Man. For as in those days before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day Noah entered the ark, and they knew nothing until the flood came and swept them all away, so too will be the coming of the Son of Man. Then two will be in the field; one will be taken and one will be left. Two women will be grinding meal together; one will be taken and one will be left. Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming. But understand this: if the owner of the house had known in what part of the night the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and would not have let his house be broken into. Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.   

            I grew up with the altar call.  The altar call is the conclusion of a worship service where people are invited to come forward and pray at the altar.  With the pianist playing “turn your eyes upon Jesus” in a very subdued quiet manner, the preacher starts.  “With everyone’s heads bowed, let’s listen for the Spirit.  Are you in need of faith?  Come here and find it.  Are you in need of healing?  Come here and find it.  Have you asked Jesus to be your Lord and savior?  Come here and be saved.  Eternal life is waiting for you."  This prayer would go for a good ten to fifteen minutes.  Sometimes a few people would come forward; sometimes a lot of people came forward. 

            This can be a very beautiful moment in worship.  You can see people moving toward hope, toward healing.  It is as if life is changing before your eyes.  And then it can also be not so beautiful.  The call to the altar can be a kind of dread.  You’re gonna drive home here tonight.  You’re a believer, but are you ready?  Are you sure?  What if tonight’s the night you meet your Lord?  Is it time for you to get serious about your faith?  Is there sin that needs to go?  You don’t want life to end and you’re not ready.  If Jesus comes tonight, will you be left behind?

            The need to be certain, be ready is a big part of evangelicalism.  In its benign form, it’s a deep trust God is in charge, loves you, and is working all things together for you. In its malignant form, certainty because judgement, good and evil in people, an absolute trust in the bible, a very literal and wooden bible, and mostly, a certainty about time and eternal life.  Jesus is coming and you must be ready, be sure.

            The end is here, clear signs are everywhere, was a big part of my adolescence.  And it wasn’t just the church.  This was the height of the nuclear arms race; this was the time of the silent spring; and this was clarity: we’re on the eve of destruction. 

             Life was filled with guns and war/ And everyone got trampled on the floor . . . Children died the days grew cold/ A piece of bread could buy a bag of gold . . . There's no time to               change your mind/ The son has come and you've been left behind/ A man and wife asleep in bed/She hears a noise and turns her head/ He's gone . . . Two men walking up a                 hill/ One disappears and one's left standing still/ I wish we'd all been ready/ There's no time to change your mind/ The son has come and you've been left behind.

             This was written by Larry Norman in 1970, the father of Christian Rock.  You can hear the pleading in the lyrics, keep awake, get ready, don’t get left behind.  You can also hear the fear, can’t you.  I wish it had worked out for you, but it didn’t.  Some people get left behind; some are unbelievers, not true Christians. 

You may never have heard of Larry Norman.  But you probably have heard of Bob Dylan. In 1980 Dylan wrote a similar song, but a bit more personal:

            Am I ready to lay down my life for the brethren
            And to take up my cross?
            Have I surrendered to the will of God
            Or am I still acting like the boss?

            Am I ready?
            Hope I'm ready?

            Have you decided whether you want to be
            In Heaven or in Hell?

            Are you ready?

            Have you got some unfinished business?
            Is there something holding you back?
            Are you thinking for yourself
            Or are you following the pack?

            Are you ready?

            Are you ready for the judgment?
            Are you ready for that terrible swift sword?
            Are you ready for Armageddon?
            Are you ready for the day of the Lord?

            Are you ready?       

There is not a lot of room here for doubt.  Ready or not, get ready.

From this very certain world of apocalyptic evangelicalism, I stepped into Lucky 214. Lucky 214 was a grocery store on the edge of San Diego’s downtown.  Into this store came the rich and the poor, the folks who slept in the canyons and those whose slept in million-dollar homes perched above the canyons.  There was a lot of drugs and violence.  When I worked at Lucky 214 it was the height of the AIDS epidemic when there was a lot of rumor and confusion.  Folks were dying of AIDs and Lucky 214 was where they shopped. 

I got a degree in history from San Diego State while I worked at Lucky 214, but it’s fair to say my real education was at the store.  I learned that people steal, sometimes with guns.  I learned that gender identity is a choice.  I learned it's hard to sleep outside.  The courses I took at Lucky 214 were many, constant, sometimes funny, sometimes heartbreaking.

Beneath all the lessons, there was a common denominator; it was this: life doesn’t fit into the box you were given; life isn’t a tidy division of believers and non-believers.  We need Jesus to come quickly not to bring an end to time, but to redeem this time, this place, us. The clarity of Larry Norman and Bob Dylan’s readiness wasn’t working on aisle four with a woman who is hallucinating with multiple shades of lip stick she is applying all at once.

The simple, clear, certain life of a suburban evangelical church was called into question just a bit.  For me it wasn’t a crisis of faith.  I didn’t doubt God or stop believing in Jesus; this was not a moment where I lost hope in God's mercy because I saw life is broken.  What I experienced was the lost and found of rebirth.  I could clearly see how little of my understanding, my faith, my definitions were real.  I didn’t lose faith in God; I lost the certainty that my faith about God was true.  At Lucky 214 life got big, really big, too big for a box.  And so did God. The living God came by, and it turns out the living God is really big.  Meeting Jesus in the transvestite and the battered wife, meeting Jesus in the junkie and the single mom each hustling their way through the day, meeting Jesus in the migrants and the rich I was being called to a different altar with a different soundtrack so to speak. 

Part of working there was gaining eyes to see people.  Sometimes it was the ability to spot folks who were off their meds; sometimes it was recognizing the person in need doesn't know English or how-to live-in safety; sometimes it was knowing who was going to steal.

One night I trained a new employee.  I tried to give him a heads up about the life and times of Lucky 214.  At the end of the spiel I said, “and people steal, a lot, all the time.  When you see it happening ask for the merchandise back and ask them to leave.  It takes time but you will be able to tell who will steal.”  The new employee shot me a glance, the you-are-real-bigot/racist look.  On cue, a man entered the store and I said, “that man is going to steal.”  We walked to the other side of the store just as the man I pointed out was coming around the far end of an aisle.  He had just lifted his shirt and put a quart of milk down his pants when we made eye contact. 

This made him mad, and he walked up to me and slammed the carton down so hard it burst open spilling milk everywhere.  Then he put up his hands and clinched his fists.  “Come on,” he shouted.  “Come on, fight me.”  And then, he said, “wait a minute.”  He took out his teeth, placed them on the register and brought his fists up again, “Okay, now, let’s fight.”  The new employee no longer saw me as judgmental, just observant.

At Lucky 214 I didn’t lose faith or hope or love for people, I found what it meant to have faith, hope, and love for real people, in a real place, where there were lots and lots of broken parts.  I was more certain than ever about the love and mercy of God as I lost the certainty of how I had defined them.

This is what Jesus is imploring the disciples to consider.  This is the eyes he wants them to have, to recognize our desire to predict, to judge, to define, to determine what is false.  We want certainty even though it is beyond our reach.  Beware, keep watch, not for the end, but for the return of false certainty.  We want to know when the thief will come.  But we can't.  We want control, surety.  But real life doesn't fit in that box.    

Angels don’t know; the son, doesn’t know.  Only God in heaven knows the time of time.  Hard things will happen, and you need to know that.  But don’t fool yourself with false certainty.  Don’t think you got the answers.  Be on the lookout for good questions, not certain answers.  People are going to break your heart no matter how much you harden it.

I can remember the day one of the managers of the store was beaten by protestors because he joined a pride march.  Jeff was gay and he was not willing to be dishonest about who he was.  Remember, this was a dangerous time.  He came in off the street into the store and he was bloody.  I can still see and feel how my heart changed in that moment.  A man who I would have judged a moral failure a few years prior was now a man of true moral courage.  People were dying and he risked his life to say, “love is love.”  He knew the danger and stepped into the uncertainty, the risk of being honest, being true.

I must confess in the days since Lucky 214 I have received, heard other altar calls to the living God.  There have been other times and places where my definitions of life, my place in life was called into question.  Recognizing that Jeff was a man of courage was a step, but seeing how recognition was not enough, that acceptance was not enough, that I needed to not only see Jeff as a man of courage, I too needed to be willing to live courageously, well, that is another altar call to the living God.

It is tempting, isn't it, to find your certainty.  To be sure, to be certain seems so very close.  We can almost reach it.  Very soon the uncertainty we felt three years ago will become a faded memory.  We will not remember the world upside down.  This is the warning of Jesus.  Certainty is not possible.  We can forget this and try to put life into a box once again.  But the living God doesn't fit into a box.

Hope doesn’t last in such boxes either.  What lasts in the box of certainty is fear, and its faithful companion, anger.  Fear and anger fit into boxes; they can keep you in a box; box you in.  What really fits into a box is the fear of an angry god.  Are you ready?  Are you sure you will be able to stand before the judgment hall of Christ?  Don't get left behind.

What needs to get left behind is fear.  The shackles we wear, the anger, outrage, the offence we take, the fire of indignation we stoke.  Being judgmental is a small way to live.  Life is big and broken, wild and beautiful.  Doesn't fit into a box.  Neither does the living God. 

Keep awake. 

The kingdom of God is at hand.  Amen.