Mike’s Rumblings 02-23-24
This is an audio version of Mike Murphy‘s Friday rumblings. This is a regular post on Facebook that I’ve turned into a podcast. I decided Mike’s words needed a wider audience. You may agree or disagree with what he says, but there is certainly much food for thought contained here. You can friend Mike on Facebook for the printed version or read it below
Rumblings. 2.23.24
Only one Rumble today.
Last week, David French, a NY Times Opinion Columnist, referenced a story told by Tony Campolo, a Baptist Preacher who taught Sociology at Eastern College in Pennsylvania. The story is about Campolo’s encounter with a hooker named Agnes.
I had the good fortune to hear Campolo’s story two or three times in person and it’s featured in his book “The Kingdom of God Is a Party”. He’s one of the best storytellers ever. No matter how many times I read about his encounter with Agnes, in a diner in Honolulu, something new begins to happen in my heart. Maybe it will stir something in you too. So here’s an edited version (my edits) of Campolo’s story about ‘Agnes’.
“…I found a little place that was still open at 3am. This was one of those sleazy places that deserves the name, “greasy spoon.” The gruff guy behind the counter, his name was Harry, brought me the coffee and donut I ordered.
As I sat there munching on my donut and sipping my coffee, the door of the diner suddenly swung open and, to my discomfort, in marched eight or nine provocatively dressed and boisterous prostitutes.
It was a small place, and they sat on either side of me. Their talk was loud and crude. I felt completely out of place and was just about to make my getaway when I heard Agnes, who was sitting next to me, say “Tomorrow’s my birthday. I’m going to be 39.” One of the other women replied nastily ” “So what do you want from us? A birthday party. …Ya want us to get you a cake and sing ‘Happy Birthday’?”
Agnes replied …”Don’t be mean …I was just telling you, that’s all… I mean, why should you give me a birthday party? I’ve never had a birthday party in my whole life. Why should I have one now?”
When I heard that, I made a decision. I sat and waited until the women had left. Then I called Harry over and asked him, “Do they come in here every night?” “Yeah!” he answered. “The one right next to me, Agnes, does she come here every night?” “Like clockwork. 3:30 a.m….Why d’ya wanta know?”
“Because I heard her say that tomorrow is her birthday …What do you say we do something about that? What do you think about us throwing a birthday party for her—right here—tomorrow night?”
A smile slowly crossed his face and he answered with measured delight, “That’s great! I like it! That’s a great idea!” … He called out his wife who was working in the back of the diner and told her the plan. She said: “That’s wonderful! You know Agnes is one of those people who is really nice and kind, and nobody does anything nice and kind for her.”
I said “Look, If it’s okay with you, I’ll get back here tomorrow morning at about 2:30 and decorate the place. I’ll even get a birthday cake!”
“No way,” said Harry, “The birthday cake’s my thing. I’ll make the cake.”
At 2:30 the next morning, I was back at the diner… I had made decorations and a big sign sign that read, “Happy Birthday, Agnes!” Word had gotten out that there was going to be a birthday party at the diner so the place was packed with prostitutes.
At 3:30 on the dot, the door of the diner swung open, and in came Agnes. I had everybody ready and when she came in we all screamed, “Happy birthday!” …As she sat on one of the stools along the counter, we all sang “Happy Birthday.” As we came to the end of our singing her eyes moistened. Then, when the birthday cake with all the candles on it was carried out, she lost it and wept.
Harry gruffly mumbled, “Blow out the candles, Agnes! Come on! Blow out the candles!” …Then he handed her a knife and told her, “Cut the cake, Agnes. Yo, Agnes, we all want some cake.”
Agnes looked down at the cake. Then without taking her eyes off it, she slowly and softly said, “Look, Harry, is it alright with you if I keep the cake for a little while? I mean, is it OK if we don’t eat it right away?”
Harry shrugged and answered, “Sure! It’s O.K. If you want to keep the cake. Take it home, if you want to.” …
She got off the stool, picked up the cake, and carrying it like it was the Holy Grail, walked slowly toward the door. As we all just stood there motionless, she left.
When the door closed, there was a stunned silence in the place. Not knowing what else to do, I broke the silence by saying, “What do you say we pray?”
Looking back on it now, it seems more than strange for a Baptist Preacher to be leading a prayer meeting with a bunch of prostitutes, in a diner in Honolulu, at 3:30 in the morning. But then it just felt like the right thing to do. I prayed for Agnes. I prayed for her salvation and that her life would be changed and that God would be good to her.
When I finished, Harry leaned over the counter and said “Hey! You never told me you were a preacher. What kind of church do you belong to?”
In one of those moments when just the right words came, I answered, “I belong to a church that throws birthday parties for hookers, in a diner, at 3:30 in the morning.”
Harry waited a moment and then almost sneered as he answered, “No you don’t. There’s no church like that. If there was, I’d join it. I’d join a church like that!”
…
Everywhere we look there is an Agnes, someone who lives a hard, scary life. It’s someone who needs a cheerleader and who needs to know someone is for her and not against her. It’s someone who needs to know that God sees her.
“Come to me all you who are weary and heavy laden”, said Jesus, “and I will give you rest.” I think he meant it.
Do me a favor. Like this and then Share it. I bet you know someone who needs to be lifted up today.