When They Come

This may be more for our friends where we gather as a fellowship, for our region, but overall I think the principles and the truth behind it are true for many.

When I first came through the doors of Christianity I am not sure what I expected. Probably not what I saw or even where I ended up. I know in retrospect, the idea of women in dresses and men in suits and that all had to “look the same” might have been tucked in there. My difficulty was I identified with those who could not afford a suit or had never been out of jeans and t-shirt. I have been in the services where people have been asked to “cover up.” (I once had friend who was told he had to wear a tie to church and someone gave him one. He was young black man sporting an Afro. When he showed up at “church” the tie was wrapped around his Afro! He died while doing missions in Tanzania some years later.) Where all the men looked the same, all the women in the flowery dresses and big hair and yes I have been irreverent about it. I do apologize for some of that. Not all, but some.

My walk was orchestrated by Him and no other. I remember falling in love with an album by Steve Taylor and thinking “I don’t want to be a clone.” I remember taking flak over it and my thinking. When I first started in church, I ended up in an “inner circle” of sorts. I began to look the part. But there was always a part of me that hungered for the life of being with those less fortunate. I began to bring them to church. Why? Because He loved me and I loved Him and I wanted to spread it around.

My first two weeks as a believer 23 young people came to the Lord. The man with Tourette syndrome (TS) and his verbal outbursts and crazy mannerisms. Rick got saved in our living room. My former “body guard,” a refrigerator with a head screwed on who was a blackbelt. He gave his life to Jesus in my store as the presence of God filled the room and a “mist” began to manifest. A young army veteran gave his life to the Lord, moving out of his girlfriend’s house and in with us.  A practicing homosexual who while buying a gift found himself shaking under the power of God in our store.  A man who “found” me, showing up at our home after a truck accident with one leg shorter by nearly 5 inches than the other. He was headed to the Social Security office when I encountered him. The Lord miraculously healed him and he began pounding nails with us that summer. Prostitutes, porn stars, thieves; men and women convicted of all sorts of debauchery.

But “those” people I hung out with, did not endear me to those who thought church was to be neat and clean. I have been given a hard time because I grew my hair long, rode a motorcycle, wore shorts, preached at biker rallies and more. I have been judged by those I “hung” out with. After our first church, we moved to a large three story home and many began to cover our couches, fill our rooms and learn from God.  With the exception of one, the men we took in our home entered into ministry. They ate, fasted, worked and prayed. All were ex-cons, coming out of systems and families of dysfunction. They did not fit the norm.

Why even bring this up? Because it is one thing to pray for people to be saved and still another to see them through it. And the church I envision and prophesy about and over will not necessarily be all neat and spiffed up. Religion and tradition and rules that were never intended for man have kept many off to the sidelines.

For years I declared myself a “fisher of men” and not a cleaner of fish. Many tried to get me to change that. “Clean the fish” they would say. “Get them ready” they would tell me. As I tried to be like they wanted me to be, I found myself less like me and less like the Jesus who had created me. And then I realized how religious I had become! I have had to unravel a lot. Apologize to some. Yesterday as my friend Mark shared, I thought “grace is too easy.” Still unraveling. And then he said, “you may think grace is too easy.” Folks, I do think it is too easy but I do not see another way. I am a fisher of men and God is the cleaner of fish!

In our fellowship I look around the room at the eclectic group of people. Some saved, some not. Some old (90 years old) and some young. (Babies, babies, babies.), all the faces of the culture. Religion does not fare well in our midst. (Except pure religion as defined in James.) I could not see it any other way. I wait for the broken, the damaged, the destroyed to encounter hope and the one who is Hope. I watch words come forth that change the people, change their destiny and their outlook. They will not look like me or you, but they will look like Him. Let us build for that which is to come!

Prostitutes, tax collectors and thieves He walked with them all. And if He could, so can we.

The church of Jesus Christ, filled with His grace, will soon be overcome with those we cannot imagine coming through the doors. There will be nothing to explain, as it will be evident, the love of the Father through His people towards these visiting. Oh yes, we must be prepared, equipped. But the harvest is about to overcome those who walk in the power and demonstration of His GRACE! We are on the cusp of a tremendous outpouring of His power and His love. Even as I saw the lights be turned off in some places and turned on in others in a vision, I feel the presence of His grace moving on His people. The call to grace cannot be denied. While say “where have all the people gone,” the Lord is bringing an ever increasing move of those who would never have “darkened” the doors of a church in to the gatherings of His people of grace. Legalism and religiosity is about to be shattered. I see it like I see the fireworks of the 4^th! An explosion of the goodness of God overcoming His people.

For those of us in the Monadnock region it is your time, it is your day! The Lord is saying the night season is over. Throw your net over the other side. The morning dew is upon the region.