Sherman's Story

A hot muggy night in Ohio.

Pretty much the same as every other Wednesday evening in the summer of 2012. A group of college students getting together to spend some time around the grill--but not too much time. Darting in and out of the church building, racing back into the luxury of air conditioning to watch old school Disney movies on the big screen from the comfort of well broken in couches and lazy boy recliners.

But one summer night... time stood still.

The beauty of the OSU campus in the summer time for those who normally inhabit the city of Columbus translates into less traffic, the ability to get from one place another with ease, and quiet nights close to fraternity row. For those of our friends and family members who live on the streets? It means something altogether very different.

Hot muggy nights. Hiding out in the shade. And less college students doesn't translate into peace & quiet for them, but less food. Less money to pan handle and working twice as hard to find something to eat.

The smell of the grill drifted over the streets, covering up the stench of the hot weather and trash. That and my incessant guilt as I walked up and down the streets as people were begging for money. I lived in air conditioning and my friends tried desperately to stay cool. I had little money, but more money than they did. And so I begged them to come to get dinner with us on Wednesday evenings... Sad there wasn't food every day at lunch time as per usual to invite them to share with us.

Little did I know...

Wednesday evenings in the summer turned into barely organized chaos. A few friends stopped by to work "security" for us because by the time 6 pm rolled around, a lot of our friends had finished their day jobs and had already knocked back at least 5 or 6 beers. They would stash the ones they were working on around the corner because they knew I wouldn't tolerate it on our property as they stumbled up and crashed under a shade tree.

Barely organized chaos.

Yet there always seemed to be enough food. Even if it was just barely. And so 7 pm would roll around and if you weren't drunk, you were allowed in the building. Some weeks...the summer Olympics. Other weeks? Hearing the voices of grown people singing along to children's classic movies like the Lion King or Aladdin.

Week after week, there were so many new people, it was difficult to keep track. I have a vague recollection of meeting a man named Sherman one week as he came to dinner.

A few weeks later he stepped inside the church, and he had kept quiet to avoid detection of having a few too many. As the movie of the week began, he leaned over to me and in a clear voice, asking very loudly... " Miz Jenny. Do you know what it says in Psalms, chapter one?"

As the slurring in his voice was evident, he continued to recite Psalm One from memory: "Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked or stand in the way of sinners or sit in the seat of mockers. But his delight is in the law of The Lord, and on it he meditates day and night..." As he continued, there was a boldness about him. As if he was a preacher from the south in the days of old. As if he was proclaiming good news in our midst: "He is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither. Whatever he does prospers. Not so the wicked! They are like chaff that the wind blows away. Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment, nor the sinners in the assembly of the righteous. For the LORD watches over the way of the righeous, but the way of the wicked will perish."

It was like a Bible study erupted in the midst of this movie. I jumped in as soon as he finished recting Psalm 1 and said, "do you know that is one of my most favorites?"

And so it began. Back and forth. Back and forth as if we were in our own little world. Hebrew words flying. One Scripture verse after the next, after the next. Suddenly, it's as if both of us awoke from our dream world. We looked around and realized that everyone was watching us and not the movie. With sheepish grins, we became quiet but the conversation not forgotten.

From then on... Each Wednesday I hoped to see Sherman. Some weeks, he had a few more to drink than other weeks, but he was always incredibly kind. He always had Scripture verses to share with me and words of wisdom.

In the middle of the summer, I spent three weeks in Denmark... Only to return to a still muggy Ohio summer. One day--I was sitting out on the back bench, catching up on the world through our friend Jeff's eyes when Sherman came running up. Giving me a huge hug, he had heard I had come back and had stories to share. Oh the stories. While I was gone, he had started coming to Sunday evening worship, for more than just dinner...

As the end of the summer rapidly approached, and more and more college students returned, our building became crowded. No longer did Wednesday evenings feel quite so chaotic, but Sherman kept coming. On one of the last Sunday evenings of the summer, I remember sitting in front of him in worship. It was a gorgeous summer evening and as the sun was setting, we began singing: "No place I would rather be. No place I would rather be. No place I would rather be. Than here in your love. Here in your love. So set a fire down in my soul, that I can't contain, that I can't control. I want more of you God. I need more of you God...." The place was lit up. People were singing so loud they were almost yelling. The walls falling down around us like those of Jericho. And although Sherman had begun singing a bit timidly as he learned the song, by the end... He was singing louder than almost all of us combined. Throwing up his hands in the air and yelling, "Amen! Amen, brother!" He then slipped quietly out of worship.

I didn't see him for two weeks, and I began to get worried. Classes were about to begin and life was hectic. A weekend we were sure to never forget... A staff retreat, interviewing a pastor, the dishwasher flooding the basement, a board member accidently lighting himself on fire, loosing a large financial grant from the Lutheran church... It was one of those nights where you threw up your hands and said, ok Jesus... Tonight we just tell people about you.

Sherman walked into worship that night. His head held high. Carrying a book bag. Clean and sober. Running up to me yelling, "Miz Jenny!! Miz Jenny!!" He threw his arms around me and gave me a hug. "Do you notice something different? Do you? I've been clean and sober for two weeks. I don't know what God did, but do you remember the worship where we sang 'Set a fire?' God, done set a fire in my soul. His Spirit was moving in me. I had given into my depression and was trying to drink myself a way, but you people. You just kept on loving me. Like Jesus. And feeding me. Well. That night. I knew I was done with that. I went and got an' appointment with my doctor and got back on my meds and got me an apartment. I just wanted to come back here to tell you thank you. Thank you for who you are. Thank you for what you all are doin. God done set a fire back in my soul. Without Him and you all I would be lost. Thank you." He continued on and on. Being the preacher man that he is, he preached a sermon with his eyes lit up with the very fire of God. Just standing next to the copy machine in our office, one of the best sermons I have ever heard in my life. A soul melting moment as he told me of the story of Jesus. What the cross and empty tomb really meant.

I threw my arms around him, crying--both from exhaustion and joy--and gave him a hug as we went to start worship. And there was Sherman, standing side by side the students...helping serve dinner to the whole church. His face aglow with the joy of being found. Don't believe the lies. Don't let anyone fool you. For the Kingdom of God is now.