The Cowtown Christ Gets Her iPhone Fixed
Isaiah 61: 1-3
Romans 3: 21-26
Luke 5: 17-26:
Then some men came, carrying a paralyzed man on a bed… When Jesus saw their faith, He said [to the paralyzed man], “Friend, your sins are forgiven you.” Then the scribes and the Pharisees began to question, “Who is this who is speaking blasphemies? Who can forgive sins but God alone?”…Jesus answered them, “Why do you raise such questions in your hearts? Which is easier, to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven you,’ or to say, ‘Stand up and walk?’ But so that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins”—He said to the paralyzed man—“I say to you, stand up, take your bed, and go to your home.”
And immediately [the paralyzed man] stood before them…. Luke 5; 17-26, edited.
The Other Fort Worth
A few years ago former Fort Worth city manager Charles Boswell started talking about “The Other Fort Worth”—the Fort Worth where the economy wasn’t developing, where the jobless rate plummeted, where violence and crime were high, and where the dropout rate from school was the worst. He was challenging people to think about the other side of the coin, and he always emphasized that for Fort Worth to be truly successful, “The Other Fort Worth” needed to succeed as well.
It was a vision for what the Bible calls SHALOM, the health and wholeness that God wants for us all. For any community to be healthy and whole, then everyone needs to benefit.
There was a place along the Trinity Trail where Jesse, the Cowtown Christ, liked to bicycle in the early morning. She followed the Trinity River east of the city, and she’d hit a high point where she could have a full view of the city’s modern sky-scrapers mixed with art-deco buildings; and on the other side of I-35, East Lancaster’s homeless shelters and and Stop-Six. This was where Jesse prayed and talked to her Papa, God.
And as she did this, Jesse saw God’s version of “The Other Fort Worth.” Jesse saw The City of God, la Ciudad de Dios, superimposed like a three-dimensional transparency on top of the City of Fort Worth that you and I know.
She could see Fort Worth the way God intended it to be, with all the races and ethnicities, living together in harmony; all the religious institutions, regardless of their differences, joined together to praise God not only in their worship, but in their love for one another; with all the differences between rich and poor, the haves and the have-nots, eradicated, and all jealousy and strife and misunderstanding ended; the Trinity River flowing with justice like a fountain, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.
It was a vision of what Fort Worth will look like when it lives fully into God’s Shalom, when at last the city is healthy and whole. It is God’s presence among us making us capable of being healthy and whole. It is the God-given possibility that Fort Worth can be the City of God on earth.
It is God’s shalom healing Fort Worth.
God’s city of Fort Worth has been our guide when the city is at its best—the city’s Directions Home program for the homeless; its growing acceptance of gays and lesbians as welcomed members of the community and even leaders; the civic generosity of many of its wealthier citizens; its diversity with so many people of different races and cultures living here seeking to make a life and build a community together; its strong religious identity.
The heavenly city of Fort Worth makes the good things we love about the earthly city of Fort Worth possible.
Jesse knew that the problem was that so many people didn’t believe that God is here. Especially religious people! They heard so much about sin all the time, about how bad they were, that it made them think they were unworthy, and that the problems of the world could’t be solved, and that God didn’t love them.
People thought that all that God cared about was sin.
They needed to believe that God loves them. They needed to have hope.
They needed to stop hearing about sin, and start hearing about health.
Only then could the healing begin.
The Parable of the Crazy Doctor
When Jesse preached at the Slab, a makeshift worship and meeting place for the homeless off of Rosedale, lots of her homeless congregation nodded and shouted, “Amen! The system needs to change!”
Jesse looked around. This was her home. She knew everybody there. She said, “You are so mad at the system and the people in it. I understand that. But remember, there are plenty of good people out there who are absolutely dedicated to you, so please don’t look down on them.
“But here’s what you need to understand: Those people who you think are messing with you, or that you think are better than you, who you think of as your enemies–they are just like you.
“Are you an addict? So are they. They’re addicted to money or work or media or success or consumerism. Or at least they are tempted by those things. And every day, our culture throws that stuff at them, like a pusher on the street.
“Are you a victim? So are they. They get subjected to the same images of perfection that you do—that to be perfect you have to look just right, and do things a certain way, act a certain way, and succeed at your job or your role in life.
“Like you they struggle against self-doubt and fear of failure and they’re always looking at others thinking, ‘They’re more perfect than me,’ and fearful they’ll be found out for the losers they think they are deep down inside.
“Are you always looking over shoulder, afraid of what’s behind you? So are they. They could lose their job, or their family, or their good name, and then where would they be?”
“Right here,” said one of the homeless men. “That was me, before I got laid off two years ago.”
“Exactly,” Jesse said. “We humans have rules of right and wrong, black and white– sin and righteousness; and we use them to judge others, but we use them also to judge ourselves.
“But that’s not what mi Papa sees in the world. God sees each of us, and all of us, as people God created good; but we have a bad sickness that’s eating away at us. And God wants to make us better.”
Then she told them the Parable of the Crazy Doctor. “The City of God is like a person who is struggling with depression. She tells her best friend, but the friend says, ‘You’re sick and it’s your own fault. You ought to be ashamed of yourself. Snap out of it. Just act happy.’ So that’s what the depressed woman does. She tries and tries to get it together, and tries to pretend like she’s okay. And she can’t tell anybody else she’s depressed because she’s scared. And she just gets lonelier and lonelier and the sickness gets worse and worse.
“But one day the woman decides to see a doctor, and this doctor says, ‘You are sick, but I have a medicine that will work, as long as you take it every day, and eat right, and make yourself do some things you think you can’t do, and look to other people to support you. I’m going to give you this medicine for free, and I want you tell everybody else about it, and I want you to take a bunch of these pills and give them away free to everybody else, too!”
Someone in the crowd said, “No good doctor’s gonna tell you that! That’s turning you into a pusher! That doctor is crazy!”
Jesse laughed. “That’s right!” she said. “Don’t you dare go giving out your meds on the street! But when it comes to grace and love, God is like a crazy doctor who just gives out pills to anybody, and tells you to hand them out to everybody!
See, we’re all sick. We all need one another to get better. We all need to change. But we’ll never do that without help—from each other and from God.
“So, yes, the people on the other side need to love you—but whether they love you or not, you still need to love them. We need each other. And all of us need God.”
Jesse took this message to churches, and to synagogues, and to mosques. She took it to rich churches and poor churches. Wherever she went, she told the parable of the Crazy Doctor. Some people would say “I’m not sick!” and leave in a huff. But other people would say, “I think you’re right. But how do we change? What’s this secret pill the crazy Doctor’s giving out?”
And Jesse said, “That’s the Good News. La Ciudad de Dios, The City of God, is right here and right now. Even though it looks impossible to heal everything that’s wrong with the world, it’s not impossible, because the City of God is right here, right now, and God is on our side.
“But you have to change the way you THINK. You have believe that it’s true. If we believe it, we can do the healthy things that can heal us. But if we don’t, we’ll stay sick.”
And people began to believe. Or at least hope. And they began to follow her.
On Facebook and on Twitter.
And that’s when The Cowtown Christ realized that she needed to get her iPhone fixed.
An Apple A Day
So Jesse went to the Apple store, which was crowded as always with people getting their new phones or a new Mac or iPad or getting their old technology updated. She was served by a nice guy behind the counter named Peter.
There was always something about Jesse that made strangers want to talk to her. And she was a good listener. So Peter got to talking about how he ended up working at the iPhone store. He’d been an executive for a local natural gas company, but when the economy tanked and the market for natural gas plummeted, too, Peter was laid off along with a lot of people. “My wife blamed me for everything,” he said, “and she just couldn’t get over it. And finally she got a divorce, and she took the kids, and now none of the kids will even talk to me.”
And Jesse said, “So what did you do that contributed to the problem?”
Peter looked up shocked and offended. “I didn’t do anything! I got shafted!”
Jesse said, “Maybe. But you said your wife got custody and your kids won’t talk to you. If it’s just the way you say, then it’s strange that things worked out like that.”
Then Peter told her that as he’d watched his friends lose their jobs, as he’d fired them himself, he’d begun drinking–a lot. When he was home, he was always fighting with his wife and kids. The day he was fired, he went on a drinking binge and when he came home, he got angry and hit his teenaged son.
When he told Jesse this, he began to cry. “I’m a loser drunk,” he said. “I can’t believe I did that.”
And Jesse said, “Your sins are forgiven you.”
A bit of a crowd had gathered around them, because obviously something dramatic was happening. In that crowd was the youthful thirty-something pastor of one of the local mega-churches, John. He always dressed casually and was a regular at the Apple store because he loved technology and his church used lots of technology and there were always young people there he could talk to and convince to come to his church. John said, “Wait a minute. How can you say, ‘Your sins are forgiven you’ just like that? I didn’t hear him repent. I didn’t hear him say he accepted Jesus as his personal Lord and Savior.”
Jesse turned and looked at him. “And what sins might you be hiding, my friend?” she asked.
John the mega-church pastor tried to return her gaze, but he found himself turning away. There was something about her look that made him aware that he had his own secrets—that he was not as holy and upright as he pretended to be. He felt like she was seeing into his soul. He stepped back a little, his face burning. But he didn’t want to look like he was running away either.
Jesse said, “You think it’s hard to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven’? Then let me re-phrase it.” She spoke to Peter: “Peter–your illness is healed. Be healthy and whole, and know that God loves you.” She laid a gentle hand on Peter’s shoulder.
The preacher said snarkily, “Are you now saying you’ve healed his alcoholism?”
Jesse smiled. “No, he’ll have to take care of that the same way everybody does. But that’s not what’s ailing him. That’s just a symptom. What ails him is what ails everyone.” She winked at the preacher. “Give me a call when you’re ready to take the cure, m’ijo.”
John the preacher backed away, slightly stunned. Everyone was silent. Even the red-shirted workers had stopped working. They weren’t even looking at their iPads, but right at Jesse! It was awkward.
Finally Jesse said, “Um, listen, Peter here just fixed my phone. It works really well now. So, I’m going to have a party. I want you all to come. And tell your friends. Here’s my number.” She told them. “Text me if you want to come and I’ll let you know when and where.”
As she was walking out of the store, Jesse could hear the pinging of text-messages coming into her phone.
By that evening, Jesse had gotten phone calls from Peter the iPhone guy and John the preacher. Peter had been fired, but he didn’t care. James was nervous, but interested.
Jesse told them both the same thing: “Follow me.”
And when they’d brought their boat to the land, they left everything, and followed Him. Luke 5: 8-11
Cowtown Christ and The Cowtown Christ Gets Her iPhone Fixed, and all contents herein, copyright Fritz Ritsch, 2013.