I was looking forward to attending
a Friday night church service, though. Every Friday night there was a regular
church service followed by a meal served to the homeless. News of ministries
and organizations that provided meals always spread rapidly throughout the
community. The homeless walked from different locations to attend. We also sent
a couple of busses to CASS – Central Arizona Shelter Services – to pick up the homeless
every Friday night.
Various
churches and organizations volunteered to bring a prepared meal. They also
served the meal and ministered in prayer or a listening ear to those attendees.
It will always stand out in my mind as the epitome of a true servant heart to
the less fortunate.
Angel
Rosa often had guest speakers for the Friday night, and I decided to go when
Iverna Tompkins would be preaching. I had read several of her books, seen her
on Christian television, and had heard glowing reports of her preaching and
Bible teaching. I was excited, and just a tiny bit giddy with awe about getting
to see and hear her. Her book How To Be
Happy In No Man’s Land had ministered to me after my twenty-two year
marriage ended in divorce. She had had a husband who left and divorced her.
After
leaving work that Friday, I went home to change clothes and grab a quick bite
for dinner. Church had started by the time I arrived, so I slipped in and found
a seat near the back. Eddie James, the Music Minister for Phoenix Inner City
Church, was still leading. I loved his style of black gospel music. He was, and
still is, a gifted, talented young man passionate about serving God through
music.
When
Iverna stepped behind the pulpit, I leaned forward with expectation. Because I
was seated in the back where most of the homeless sat, I soon discovered they
could be very distracting. They shuffled, wiggled, talked to each other, and
hollered out responses to the preaching. The constant commotion would be
unnerving to many preachers, but Iverna never missed a beat. I don’t recall
what she preached about, but I do remember being riveted by it – or as riveted as
I could be with all the distractions.
They’re not paying any attention at all.
They’re only here to eat a meal afterwards. They don’t care about Jesus. I felt sad as those thoughts ran through
my mind. I could see the Teen Challenge students seated on the front row. They
were paying avid attention, and taking notes. Taking notes was something they
were required to do. Their notes were turned in to a staff member.
Rehabilitation, as Teen Challenge viewed it, isn’t for the non-committed, or just-biding-my-time
person.
Surrounded
by the disruptions, the thought came to me that if Jesus walked in at that
moment, he would find great delight in sitting among these poor souls. In fact,
it would be his preference for where to sit. Jesus would have probably smiled
with compassion when one of the men waved his arms and yelled, “Uncle Sam took
our jobs,” in response to Iverna saying that God would meet our needs.
The
outburst startled me, and I jerked, but neither Iverna nor anyone else seemed
disturbed by it. I guess you just get
used to it.
When
Iverna Tompkins asked that we all bow our head for prayer as she gave the altar
call, I dutifully bowed my head. As she asked for those to come forward who
wanted prayer or wanted to surrender their hearts and lives to the Lord, I was
pleasantly surprised to hear the shuffling of bodies and the stampeding of
feet.
They were listening after all! They’re going
to the altar. When I opened my eyes, I was disappointed to see only a
couple of homeless people at the altar.
Most of those who responded to the altar call were a few church members
and several students. The stampede I’d heard was the rush to get in line
outside the dining hall for the meal.
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