A crowd of fifteen people had gathered in the West Reagan Street Mission’s cafeteria to remember Petey Schwartz.
The small congregation sat behind folding tables with Styrofoam cups of coffee in front of them.
All of the people, besides Joshua, worked for the mission or were transients who’d known Petey. And yet, because of his past involvement with the center, Joshua did not stand out.
The question that seemed so hard to answer gnawed at him: “What kind of a God could ever forgive someone who’s done the things you’ve done?”
And the answer he tried to cling to: “What kind of a God would he be if he couldn’t?”
The Reverend Hezekiah Tate, the African-American preacher who’d started this shelter for the homeless more than thirty years ago, walked slowly to the front of the cafeteria, greeted those who’d come, unfolded his weathered Bible and laid it on the antique lectern he always preached from.
After a few brief opening remarks, he started in with his “word from the Lord.” He spoke with the honest intensity, the intonation, the cadence of a veteran black preacher. “We all have choices that we face in this life. Petey had choices. I have choices. You have choices.”
Yes, and you have chosen evil, Joshua. You will have to answer for that, you will-
“Scripture is clear that we are each responsible for our own choices. No one can take credit for the godly works of another; no one will bear the blame for another’s ungodly acts. And this has been true, this is true, this will always be true. Amen?”
The small group of homeless people knew Tate, knew the way he preached, and chimed in, “Amen.”
“In Ezekiel eighteen, and verse four, we read that the word of the Lord came to Ezekiel and said unto him, ‘The soul that sinneth, it shall die.’”
It shall die, Joshua.
You shall-
“‘If a father shall beget a son that is a robber, a shedder of blood, and that doeth the like to any one of these things…’”
A shedder of blood.
Like you, Joshua.
A son.
Who is.
A shedder of blood.
“‘Shall he then live? He shall not live: he hath done all these abominations; he shall surely die; his blood shall be upon him…The soul that sinneth, it shall die.’”
Tate emphasized that last word, let it ring and echo through the room, then went on. “‘The son shall not bear the iniquity of the father, neither shall the father bear the iniquity of the son: the righteousness of the righteous shall be upon him, and the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon him. Therefore repent, and turn yourselves from all your transgressions; so iniquity shall not be your ruin. Cast away from you all your transgressions, whereby ye have transgressed; and make you a new heart and a new spirit.’”
Repent, Joshua, it’s not too late. You have to-
“And where does this new heart and this new spirit come from?” Reverend Tate asked rhetorically. “Only through faith in the grace of God, only through mercy at the hand of God, only through hope in the Son of God. Amen?”
“Amens” from the ragtag congregation.
“As the Lord told Ezekiel in the thirty-sixth chapter, the twenty-sixth verse: ‘A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you: and I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you an heart of flesh.’”
Tate’s voice took on a flavor of fire born of love. “This new spirit comes to us only from God and is a gift of God and draws us closer to God. Amen?”
More amens. Two disabled vets, one of whom was missing a leg, and both of whom lived under an I-94 overpass, lifted their foam cups in an impromptu toast to the preacher.
Tate wrapped up his brief but passionate homily: “This new heart, this new spirit, this new hope, come to all who will turn to the Lord to find forgiveness and atonement for their sins. This, Petey did right here in this very cafeteria, one month ago. And this you can do today, if you have never done so before. Right here, in the same place where Petey was saved, you can be too.” He took an expectant breath. “Let us pray. And let us take responsibility for our sins, let us bring our hearts to God, let us trust in the Lord Jesus Christ, the one whose blood-”
— Blood. Always blood-
“-cleanseth us from all sin.”
Tate began his prayer by referencing St. Paul’s conclusion about the struggle against his sinful nature: “Who shall deliver me from the body of this death? I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord…”
As Reverend Tate went on, Joshua felt the crushing weight of his past, of his choices, nearly smothering him.
He had to leave.
So, while everyone else’s eyes were closed and heads were bowed, Joshua slipped out of the cafeteria. He made it to his car before he started to cry. And there he prayed and prayed, begging the God who had spoken those words to Ezekiel so long ago to speak to him today.
“A shedder of blood shall not live. He hath done all these abominations; he shall surely die; his blood shall be upon him.”
He tried to grab hold of hope, but the promise of a new heart, a new spirit, a gift offered, was overwhelmed by a palpable darkness, one that felt almost visceral and alive, a consuming presence sliding into his heart, rising above the moment and muscling its way into his soul.
Joshua ended his prayer.
Wiped away his tears.
It was too late for redemption.
He left to pick up the shoebox.