Pam and I went to the hospital to see Joanna last Thursday night. She had been mugged in our church parking lot the Sunday before. Her purse was stolen, and in wrestling with one of the two thieves, she fell to the icy lot and broke her femur in two places. Now she’s on the 9th floor of St. Joe Hospital and will be there for over a month in rehab. We found her in great spirits, as is always the case with Joanna.

I wrote about the mugging earlier. Some new details were interesting. The two muggers had been walking down the alley when Joanna pulled into the back parking lot, the first car there. She was a greeter that morning, and was coming early. As the two men approached her, she joked with one about his trouble staying on his feet on the ice. As she approached the steps leading up to the back door, the other man, the taller one, was suddenly in front of her, blocking her path. He grabbed her purse, and she immediately screamed–not in terror, but to draw attention. Which worked, because a woman inside heard her.

Joanna wouldn’t let go of her purse. Ultimately, she fell to the ice about ten feet away from where the scuffle started, but she took the other guy with her. The difference is that he was able to get up, and she wasn’t. In the hospital, a Catholic chaplain, a woman, came to see her. Joanna, though not Catholic, told her, “Can I confess something to you?” “Sure.” She said, “I shouldn’t feel this way, but I hope the other guy has a sore knee.”

The police haven’t turned up anything. Her purse remains missing.

Last night we had our regularly scheduled board meeting. One agenda item was a general discussion about church security. We obviously don’t want people to be afraid to come to our church. But at the same time, we want them to be wary, to notice things. This mugging has made us all much more aware of goings-on. I commented that I’m surprised the church hasn’t been broken into during our six years of operation. Traci, our youth director, then told of an experience I hadn’t heard about. She arrived at the church one day, the only person there, and noticed the garage door up. She circled a couple times in the parking lot, wondering if she should go in. Finally, a neighbor, who goes by the name Sixpack, came out and told her he saw two guys run out of the church.

We’ve had things stolen (like my wife’s purse), and some simple vandalism (graffiti on the garage door, feces smeared on the back door). One troublesome kid threatened to go home, get a gun, come back, and shoot us (which drew the police there, and a six-month suspension from involvement in our activities). I suppose we should expect more of this. Just the cost of doing business in our part of the city.

One of our ministers in Oregon is a lieutenant colonel in the Army Reserves, and has been in Afghanistan for about a year. Last summer he wrote a list of “Lessons I’ve Learned” from Afghanistan. It was quite fascinating. One was, “When the nearest church is three hours away through ‘Indian country,’ it’s still worth the drive.” I hope people feel that way about coming to Anchor. It’s a place to worship, to fellowship with great Christians, and to minister to a needy community. It’s worth coming to.

It happened about 8:45 this morning. The worship team was practicing for the 10 am service when Cheryl H. ran into the sanctuary screaming something. We didn’t understand exactly what she said (above our loud music), but we knew it was very urgent. I assumed there was a fire; so did several others. I leaped off the platform and ran down the aisle, with the other guys following close behind.

Cheryl pointed toward the glass double doors leading to the back parking lot. One car was parked there, on the thick ice, and someone was laying down, not moving. By the time I descended the steps, I had heard enough pieces–“They took her purse,” “There were two guys”–to give me the idea of what happened. Basically, it was a mugging of an old lady on her way to church.

The lady was Joanna Herrick, one of the oldest members of our church, somewhere in her 70s. As she left her car and headed toward the door, two young men in perhaps their twenties approached her–they happened to be black, but could as easily have been white hoodlums in our area of town. They wrestled her purse from her grasp, then threw her to the ice. She was hurt, couldn’t move. Cheryl, from inside, heard Joanna cry “Help me!” She ran to a window in time to see the two guys disappear around the side of the church.

Joanna is a unique individual. This fall, she joined some of our youth leaders in attending a Youth Specialties Conference in Atlanta. A 70-plus woman among a bunch of wild and crazy youth workers. She volunteers three days a week at our drop-in youth center. She was in my 40 Days of Purpose group this fall, and I grew to greatly appreciate the progressive attitude of this godly person raised in a fairly traditional church. She’s not that crazy about the music we do, but if it appeals to people in our neighborhood, she’s for it. She never complains about anything. Over her lifetime, she has accumulated a ton of ministry experience. And she won’t quit.

Joanna was hurt bad. Couldn’t move. So she just lay on the ice for a good 20 minutes until the police (several cars) and ambulance arrived. Chris, our worship leader, knelt on the ice beside her and held her hand. There was pain in her leg. She told Chris, “I don’t have time to have a broken leg!”

But that’s what she’s got. The femur is broke near the hip. She’ll have surgery tomorrow. She has been active and independent, but this will change all of that. At least for a while. Fortunately, she’s got some great family members living in town, plus a church that loves her.

Our first year at Anchor, back in 1998, Pam had her purse stolen from the church foyer on a Sunday morning‚Äîagain, during worship team practice. So we spent the afternoon canceling all kinds of accounts, and on Monday had the locks on our house changed. At night, when a woman leaves the church, a guy always goes with her, watching until her car pulls away. It’s just prudent in our neighborhood. But this happened in broad daylight. Pam had taken the mace off of her key ring. I think she decided to put it back on.

Two years ago, I attended a Youth Specialties Conference in Indianapolis with about six others from my church. At one point, they had a contest to see who, among the hundreds of people attending, had the most combination of tattoos and piercings. We may have been one of the smaller churches represented, but we know our youth culture. Tony, one of our college students, won. I think he had 13 total. I don’t remember how it breaks down between piercings and tattoos. Tony did us proud.

Tony heads up our concert ministry. Every month, 80-140 teens and young adults crowd into our downstairs fellowship hall for a concert with 3-5 bands of the hard-core variety. Lots of screaming, little comprehension of lyrics. If there, indeed, are lyrics. Pam and I attend most of the concerts. It’s a fascinating crowd. There is swearing and smoking and the F-word splattered on black T-shirts and adornments that smell occultish. A few months ago, someone peed on a children’s Bible in the church. I’m glad these types of people come to our church. And we have Tony to thank for that.

Tony grew up with no church background. None. He was exposed to Christians through Christian concerts like the ones we do. However, he became a Christian pretty much on his own. It was a case of God reaching down, directly to Tony, and grabbing hold of him. One night in the privacy of his own apartment (having had to leave home while still in high school, I believe), Tony accepted Christ. Nobody told him how to do it, what to pray, or anything else. Just him and God. How much purer can you get?

On New Year’s Day, Tony and Marcia were married. They met at Taylor University-Fort Wayne, and have been dating for the past year or so. A great match. Marcia’s upbringing was more traditional than Tony’s–a Christian family, and she did the cheerleader thing. Some might say Tony “corrupted” her, though it wouldn’t be her parents. Or me. They just fit well together.

The wedding was held at my church, Anchor. I was surprised that Tony and the four groomsmen wore tuxedos, that the gals wore regular wedding gowns, and that Marcia’s wedding dress was traditional and gorgeous. But they also, all of them, wore Converse tennis shoes. A nice touch.

At the reception afterwards, they served vegan cake and regular cake. Both Tony and Marcia are vegan. And they’re both skinny as can be. I suspect that, though God doesn’t disapprove of eating meat, their diet is more honoring to God and a better stewardship of his temple than the fatty intake of most of the rest of us. Pam likes chocolate cake, but the only chocolate was vegan. I brought her a piece, but didn’t tell her. She remarked that the icing was hard. Well, it was hard on my vanilla non-vegan cake, too.

For the dance–yes, people danced in our United Brethren church–Tony and Marcia chose disco music. Another nice touch. It lent a somewhat bizarre atmosphere to the reception.

Tony and Marcia love the Lord. I wish the best for their marriage. Many Christians would consider them (or at least Tony) a little “out there.” But I’m a huge fan. Tony is one of the most evangelistic persons in our congregation, and he’s made a difference in people’s lives. May that continue and thrive.

Rodney, a twenty-something young man, has been attending Anchor for a year or so. I haven’t gotten to know him well, and I regret that. Last week he was involved in a terrible accident–a semi truck ran over and crushed part of his body. He’ll survive, but his body will undoubtedly never be the same, and he’ll be hospitalized for around three weeks or so, followed by much rehab.

Through this, I discovered that another fellow in the church had given Rodney a Bible about a year ago. I wouldn’t have expected such an act from this particular person, but was delighted to hear about it. It was an act of Christian outreach which went unnoticed, but which demonstrates the Church in action–as it should be.

This morning, Melissa told me that she and her mother, Lori, have been volunteering at a city homeless ministry on Sunday mornings. They had gone there this morning prior to church. I don’t know how long they’ve been doing this. Both Melissa and Lori are fairly new converts; both were baptized at Anchor about 18 months ago. I still remember Melissa springing up out of the water, arms raised, yelling, “Yeah!” I didn’t know they were involved with this homeless ministry. Just something they felt led to do. It’s another example of the body of Christ at Anchor involved in being the Body.

Karen is a new Christian. She has been coming with Sandy, and both of them are bringing their mothers. Now, I understand, they are inviting other coworkers to come to Anchor. Terry invited a young black man, who has come a number of times. He and Laura have reached out to other neighbors.

Annie and Kelly have been coming for less than two years, probably more like a year. I joke with them a lot before the service. They’ll come with a whole truckload of kids from their neighborhood, up to ten people piled into the cab and bed of Kelly’s pickup. Kelly and one of the teen girls were both baptized during our annual picnic and baptismal service over the Labor Day weekend. A couple months ago, I talked to a friend of theirs whom Kelly brought to our monthly adult coffeehouse, who had recently moved up from Florida. Anita said that Annie and Kelly are known around their community for doing things for people, particularly taking care of elderly people.

More examples of the Body being the Body.

I love hearing stuff like this. It’s not something we organize or program at Anchor. It just happens as people encounter Christ and reach out in love. I’m sure much more is happening that I’m not aware of, and may never hear about. That’s okay. I know this stuff brings applause in heaven.

Tim Bauman is one of the guitarists in our worship band, and he has become a good friend of mine during the last six years since Anchor began. His father, Fred, who also attends Anchor, had a heart attack. Tim stopped by the church during the service and left word that they would be removing his father from the respirator. It was expected that he would only live another hour after that.

So it was a sad day for those of us who know and love Tim and his dad. A group of us gathered at the front of the sanctuary after the service to have prayer. Tim is a great guy, and I grieve for him.

Kevin Kay, back from his sophomore year at Ball State, wanted to play me in ping pong after the service. We’ve probably played a hundred games over the past few years, and he has only beaten me once. In fact, he’s the only person at Anchor who has beaten me in six years. But he plays a lot at Ball State, and it showed. He started off beating me the first two games (though both went extra points). I won the third game.

A new era has dawned. The age of my dominance in ping pong has officially come to an end. I can still take my game up a notch‚ÄîI’m not nearly as good as I was in college‚Äîbut I need regular practice. Otherwise, the next time Kevin comes back from Ball State, he’ll just beat me again. Can’t let that happen. I don’t want to use the excuse of being an “old man.” Gotta beat the young whippersnapper.