James 24:7

In his new book, Missional Rennaisance: Changing the Scorecard for the Church, Reggie McNeal recounts how he often encourages churches to replace their so-called “evangelism strategy” with a “blessing strategy”.  His challenge is simple: “take upon your self to bless three people per week and make sure at least one of them doesn’t deserve it.”  (That last bit is tongue-in-cheek)  He asks those he teaches this to live out their covenant with God by blessing those around them.

He tells the story of a young man who took him up on his challenge.  This guy decided that his daily Starbucks visit would occasion his new ministry of blessing.  So, whenever he went by for coffee he would ask his friendly barista: “How can I ask God to bless you?”  At first the wait staff looked at him like he was a whack job.  However, over time they began to open up to him not only about the blessings they needed, they began to share with him the burdens of their particular lives.

When he shared this experience with his church homies they decided they would do the same thing.  As it turned out, between the members of his circle, they visited every one of the Starbucks in town.  Each would do as he had done whenever they visited Starbucks.  They would ask baristas: “How can I ask God to bless you today?”

After a few weeks of this, one of the people involved in this little exercise wrote to Reggie McNeal and told him that upon his last visit to Starbucks the barista handed him his coffee but pulled it back just before he grasped it and asked: “Are you one of those blessing people?”

Imagine that: someone who is not a part of the church club characterizing one who is as one of those blessing people!  (Compare that to a cartoon I saw once.  Two lions are resting in the Coliseum licking their chops.  One looks at the other and says: “Burp…Christians give me heartburn.”  The other lion says: “Christians give everybody heartburn.”)

Reggie’s suggestion is not new to me.  I went to lunch with a fellow pastor one day.  After the waiter took our orders my pastor friend said: “Oh, listen…before you go.  We are going to pray over our meals when you bring them.  Is there anything we could pray about for you?”

I almost did a spit take.

The waiter took it in stride and said: “Yeah, pray for my family.  We are going through a really rough time.”

I told that story in a sermon a few weeks later.  My old friend and daughter-in-faith Jamie thought that was just a splendid thing.  So that day when we went to lunch following worship, which we do almost every Sunday, Jamie looked up at the young waitress and said, “Sugar…we are going to pray over our lunch in a minute and I wanted to know if there was anything we could pray about for you?”  (Now you have to read that with a Paula Deen drawl.  Jamie makes Paula Deen seem like a shrinking violet…and Jamie, if you are reading this that’s a compliment.  I love me some Paula Deen.)

Again, I almost did a spit take.  (“What the heck…I just preach this stuff.  I don’t mean for you to do it!  Lord have mercy!”)

Well, that little old girl had a whole lot going on in her life.  She had dropped out of high school, was living with her boyfriend, and was estranged from her parents and generally struggling to cut her path in the world.  Jamie befriended her and keeps up with her to this day. 

Jamie does this all the time now.  I don’t do the spit take so much because I have seen nothing but positive responses to it.  (I finally identified my struggle with the practice…I didn’t like the idea of catching people off guard in front of an audience.)  Sometimes folks give you the gentle brush off but most of the time they open up right there on the spot.

One girl opened up about her mother’s struggle with breast cancer.  She couldn’t get the words out of her mouth before the tears welled in her eyes and her throat knotted up like a fist.  Another one shared her difficulties with working and finishing school.  A young guy with a too-cool-for-school vibe took the prayer offer in stride but came back before we left and asked: “What church are y’all from?”  (The Alien Church…woooo…)

One thing I have learned from this little practice is that the smiling face who stands at your table and says, “Hi, my name is Wendy and I’ll be your server today” may be bringing more than your lunch back to the table…she may be carrying a side order of hell.

That smiling mask may just be dying for someone to ask God to bless her.