The coffee shop was crowded, every table occupied. I clutched my book as I looked around. I just want to sit and read. I ordered my coffee from the woman behind the counter. “Sure is crowded today,” I said. “Yes, we're usually busy in the morning.” I wandered the room, hoping someone would leave; but no one did.
I spotted two guys sitting at a table for six. “Mind if I join you?” I asked. “Sure,” they replied. “I'm Chuck,” I said introducing myself. “I'm Jerry,” one replied.* “I'm Frank,” said the other. They had open Bibles in front of them. I began reading, trying to ignore their conversation. I didn't want to “be saved” this morning.
“What are your reading,” asked Frank. “Just a mystery,” I replied. “Do you attend a church?” Oh no, here it comes. “Yes, I attend a UCC church.” “Do they believe in eternal damnation?” “Well, our congregation focusses more on how we can live following Christ,” I replied, trying to speak in terms that would not cause a confrontation. “We believe that God will bring everyone to himself at the end of the ages and that all sins will be forgiven,” said Jerry.
This is an interesting turn. They're using traditional 'born again' language. But they are including everyone. I've never heard this kind of inclusiveness before. “Then do you believe that even your enemies will go to heaven?” “Yes, Christ is about love; and God loves us all. So we will all go to heaven at the end of the ages.”
“Your talk about love very hopeful,” I said. “Most people seem to be driven by hatred and fear.” “Yes, that's the problem,” said Jerry. “Jesus didn't talk like that.” “It wasn't until Augustine and Constantine that we started talking about unbelievers going to hell. If people really believed that God is a God of love, why would such a God want to punish people?” I was fascinated by our conversation.
Then Jerry dropped a bombshell. “You may not believe it, but I was one bad dude.” “I couldn't even remember how many times I'd been shot at. It was like, 'If you weren't wounded, it didn't count.' I was put in prison for killing a guy. They put me in solitary confinement. I remember sitting in this pitch black cell, cursing God for the way my life had gone.”
“Their were rats and mice in the cell. I even made a pet of one of them. Then one day, I saw an ugly bug. It was a couple of inches long. I reached out to smack it when I heard a voice in my mind saying, 'You're going to kill that bug because it's freer than you are.' This stunned me. That night I dreamed that I was in bed cuddling with my wife. I woke up with the realization that I had put myself into this situation, not God. That's when my life turned around.”
Frank and Jerry had met in a prison chaplaincy program. Frank said, “Although my background is very different from Jerry's, we have become good friends. We are so convinced that God's love makes the difference, that we are sharing this understanding with people wherever we can.”
I couldn't help thinking that Jerry, a white guy, was a biker version of Malcom X. He was incredibly bright and self educated in prison. He knew scriptures as well as church history. He had an amazing memory. Jerry ended our conversation by announcing that he had an appointment to keep.
Frank and I talked a few minutes more. It turned out we had similar backgrounds – college educated, white, middle-class. I told him that he and Jerry had much to contribute. He nodded in agreement as we parted. I thought to myself, These folks are living with soul.
This Easter season many Christians talk about death and resurrection, new birth out of dying. For many, resurrection is a promise of heaven after we die. I think resurrection is more than this. It is occurring right now, moment by moment, as the Jerry and Frank's of the world manifest new life in situations of fear and death.
* I have changed the names in this reflection to preserve anonymity.
