I haven’t written in ages. Or, I should say, I haven’t shared what I’ve written in ages. Some things are meant for another time. But this, this is for now.
As you know, we’ve been building-less for over 6 weeks now, and doing church as they say— in the wild—and, it has been—WILD. We’ve been stretched beyond our seeming capacity and comfort each and every week. One thing is for sure, we’ve punched fear in the face over and over again. Our people have rallied, God’s hand has been with us and we have grown bigger and stronger.
We are now in August and felt the call to engage in an even deeper way for the rest of the summer. And, for David specifically, to preach in the Subways even more. We ventured out Tuesday morning at 8 am, intent to hit the commuter crowd. The night before he’d been singing in the living room and I knew I wanted to join him. So we hit the streets with our good friend Stephen—who showed up unannounced in June to support us in this crazy season, and who is still here— a few other men from kings, and of course, our sidekick, Goldie. The morning was glorious.
We swiped through the turnstile, set up our minimal gear and began singing Amazing Grace. We’d not yet finished the first verse when three MTA cops approached us, signing to us to cease. This wasn’t our first rodeo and David knows the law. So began the fight for our legal right to sing whatever song we wish, and to exercise our constitutional right—freedom of speech—in the heart of the Big Apple.
There are things I want to remember, forever. David was seated, the entire time. Though he was David—intense and ever fighting for truth and our legal right to be there, he was seated. I think that is powerful. He presented the facts, the law, said we were going to continue and to call higher officials. We continued singing Jesus Loves Me this I know. (Scary I know.) The crowds began pouring. And, for the first time since singing in the subways, I wanted to sing while looking into their eyes. It was both haunting and powerful. Smiling, catching the eyes of humanity—many like sheep to the slaughter but so unaware. Oh to be found in Jesus. That they would know the saving power of Jesus.
Then we began singing our good friend Alex’s song. “You can come on home, anytime you wish, that ol’ carpenters waiting with a ring and a kiss,” and continued into “When I need to get home you’re my guiding light, you’re my guiding light.” It was then that we saw the two cops with k-9’s approaching us. Rounds of dialogue ensued and, in the end, no grounds to make us leave. So we sang some more, and were approached by a third set of cops attempting to shut us down. This time, David had to show them the law, and they scrolled through pages of law trying to find a reason to legally shut us down, and they could not.
I have so many thoughts spinning. I’ll start here. As you know, I was robbed and followed just a few weeks ago. The robbery, a crime, or at least it used to be in NYC but is now vague as much crime has been de-escalated. The greater concern, though my favorite purse was stolen, was the fact my 7-year-old daughter and I were followed by a degenerate, one eyed, zombie-like man, and sadly, this is not a crime. And, even more sad than a degenerate man acting like one, is the fact that I solicited help from a strong, David-sized man in a suit who pulled away and walked off refusing to help us, though I was begging him for it. Not that I need to elaborate, but I was not in workout attire, or sweats, or disheveled or “rough-looking” that day. I was put together, with my beautiful daughter desperately needing protection from someone as we were being stalked and he refused and walked away. Thankfully, God is in all things, and the next man I saw was the first lawyer David ever worked with in NYC. He was walking by and he was able to help us. What a God-Send! Cops were called, the situation explained and we were told to wait on site. One—two hours passed, and no one had shown up on site. I called a second time and was told to remain at the “scene.” After two and a half hours, we decided to leave. Although our justice meter was not satiated, we also knew neither thing was really prosecutable and, everyone needed dinner. It wasn’t until three and a half hours later a police officer actually called me. Welcome to NYC!
So, fast forward to yesterday. You can’t over spiritualize everything. And, yet, we wrestle not against flesh and blood. I just can’t help but see the contrast between the two situations. I was robbed AND stalked with my seven-year-old daughter and it took three and a half hours for a cop to show up on site. (I’m not blaming cops. What do we expect when we de-fund the police? We are pro-blue! Deeply.) Meanwhile, we are in a legal busking area in a NYC Subway, half-way through a verse of Amazing Grace and all hell breaks loose. Within minutes, three MTA cops are on the scene. Five minutes after two officers with K-9’s are on the scene. They leave to talk to the powers that be because there are no legal grounds to vacate us, and minutes later a third set of cops arrive. You can say whatever you want. It could be that this particular MTA authority hates Christians. It could be he was having a bad day. It could also imply that the powers of darkness are terrified of all God is doing in NYC and through our lives. If you looked at the list of criminal activities in NYC, you’d see there are many. And, in particular to the the Subways—an entire list—many of which are not enforced, ever. Apparently, Amazing Grace is dangerous. It saved a wretch like me.
from bep 