David versus Goliath

Proverbs 15:1, “A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.”

Psalm 37:30-31, “The mouths of the righteous utter wisdom, and their tongues speak what is just. The law of their God is in their hearts; their feet do not slip.”

The common bond of Christianity brings people together in ways that are not always expected. Christian fellowship can lead to moments of accountability and it happened to me in the middle of a strike. The encounter was one moment in my career as a police officer where I faced the real possibility of getting hurt standing up to a giant.

James was a mountain of a man. He stood at least 6’4” and was a solid 300 pounds. He was built like a football lineman. We were members of the same church and every week, James would stand at the top of the steps that led from the parking lot to the sanctuary. He greeted everyone with a handshake and a hug. His handshake was firm and powerful. You could feel his strength in his embrace. There are very few people that I felt physically intimidated by. James was one of them. James worked for the Teamsters.

We both served as elders together at our church. I was a Police Lieutenant. Labor versus management, but connected by faith in Christ. We knew each other well and I considered him a friend. One Sunday morning, James told me he would be up in Santa Barbara striking at a local lumber yard. I decided I would not be going to visit him since; after all, it was a labor dispute. That all changed on the second day of the protest.

At the time, I was the Public Information Officer at the Police Department. Each morning, I would read through all the police reports to determine what might be newsworthy or significant that the Police Chief should know about. On Tuesday, as I thumbed through the reports, I found an arrest report that listed James as a suspect. He was placed under a citizen’s arrest for challenging to fight. I was really irritated that a fellow believer would engage in ways that did not honor God. I was wearing a coat and tie and decided to drive to the protest to see if James was still behaving badly.

I arrived at the site and parked my car down the block from the protest. The dispute was directed at lumber company that was non-union. I walked up the sidewalk and standing on the other side of the driveway to the business was James with three or four fellow strikers. James was the leader of the protest. He saw me and made a big deal about knowing who I was. Employees of the lumber company stood nearby listening to our conversation. After a few minutes, I walked over to a lumber company manager and asked him how things were going. He said it was all fine with the exception of the “big guy” who would yell and swear at drivers leaving the yard. He pointed at James.

Things got quiet and I decided it was time to leave. I looked at the manager and told him, “If James gets out of hand again, remind him that he is an elder at his church.” What happened next surprised even me.

James’ fellow protesters began laughing and sang out, “Elder James, Elder James!” James was dumbfounded. I could see anger flash in his eyes and, without warning; he threw his picket sign to the ground and charged me at full sprint. I had nowhere to go. There was nothing I could do. At that moment, I was not afraid. I stood still and waited to be hit by a 300 pound monster. James grabbed me in a bear hug and carried me back ten feet before setting me back on the ground. He looked me straight the face and said, “Do you know what you just did to me?”

I looked back at him and said, “Yeah James, I just held you accountable.”

He paused for a moment, let me go and walked back to his group. We did not have any more problems for the rest of the protest.

No Greater Love

John 15:13, “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.”

Today marks the 10^th anniversary of the 9-11 attacks on the Untied States. I think about the people who entered burning towers to save others, the passengers who confronted hijackers with the battle cry of “Let’s roll,” and the survivors that lost husbands, wives, children and friends. I first learned about the attacks walking up the outside staircase to my office at the Santa Barbara Police Department after the first tower fell. I would later listen to 911 tapes of people trapped in the twin towers calling for help from public safety dispatchers. The dispatchers worked to keep them calm, knowing that there was no hope and the people who asked for a rescue would not survive.

Twenty years ago there was a similar, significant event in Santa Barbara. In this case, it was only two police officers, one lieutenant and a man with a gun. One life would end and another life one would begin. I found myself in the middle of both. It would be the first and only time in my career that the “No greater love” passage would ever be more real.

On January 11, 1991 at 2:18AM, my daughter, Stephanie, was born at Cottage Hospital. My wife, Marjorie, went into labor at 11:00PM and 3 hours and 18 minutes later gave birth to our first daughter. It was amazing. I held Stephanie and told her that I was going to take her to Disneyland. At 3:30AM, I kissed my wife goodbye and left to go home to get some sleep. I walked toward the exit and had a choice between a direct route to the parking lot or go through the Emergency Room and tell the staff that I was a Daddy. I chose to go to the Emergency Room.

I walked in the back door of the ER and standing in front of me was Officer Will. He wearing a suit. Now this made no sense. It was 3:30AM, Will wore a uniform and worked day watch in community outreach.

Will looked at me and said, “Tom got shot.”

I was confused. I did not understand his statement. I looked to my right and there lying on a trauma room gurney was my friend, Tom. He was lying on his side and two or three doctors were looking at his shoulder. Tom still had his uniform pants and shoes on.

I looked back at Will and said, “Where is the other guy?”

“He is in the next room.”

I would see that the lights were off and the shade was slightly pulled closed. He was dead.

I walked into the room and could see that he was shot at least two times. I walked out not really knowing what to do next. In the third room, two paramedics were looking through a bag and pulled out Tom’s uniform shirt. They were looking for bullet holes. They had no business doing that.

“Put that back! It’s evidence!” I ordered, standing there in shorts and a t-shirt.

The paramedics complied and I took the bag. Now what do I do? I am holding a bag of evidence from an officer involved shooting, my wife just gave birth to our first child, I have been up for 22 hours and I am standing in the middle on a hospital Emergency Room at 3:45AM. It was at that moment the Night Lieutenant walked into the ER.

“HI Lieutenant,” I said, “My wife just had a baby girl and these are Tom’s clothes.”

The Lieutenant said, “Hold on to them until you are relieved.” He walked off.

Now I am still holding a bag of evidence, I am still a new Dad, I am in shorts and a t-shirt and I am tired. I am also now on overtime.

After another 20 minutes or so, the Police Chief walked into the hospital. The Lieutenant met him and decided to take him outside to tell him what happened. The Lieutenant looked at me and said to go with him. This was weird. I was a two year rookie cop and the Lt. was going to include me in a brief with the Police Chief.

We walked outside to where the ambulances parked and the Lt. told the story. The suspect was running around the city shooting at people in a local liquor store. He was tracked to his apartment and the Lt. and two officers went to the place to try and arrest him. Officer Tom and his partner lined up on one side of the door, the Lieutenant on the other. The suspect came out shooting. Tom turned to run and got shot in the shoulder.

The Lieutenant said this, “I was not wearing my (bullet proof) vest and so I stepped away from the wall into the line of fire of the suspect. I figured I was going to get shot but I did not want to risk shooting the other officers in a cross fire.”

I was floored. He was willing to take a bullet to save his officers from further harm. It was the Lieutenant that shot and killed the suspect. The suspect never got off another shot.

Tom would fully recover. The Lieutenant would be honored a hero. After that night, he could do no wrong in my eyes. Two days later, Margie and I would take our baby daughter home.

These moments play out almost every day in the United States. Men and women in military and public safety service will go so far as to risk their lives for the people that would try to take them. Please pray for the people today. That God will dwell with them and keep them safe each day of their professional lives.

Romans 13:8-10 – “Let no debt remain outstanding, except the continuing debt to love one another, for whoever loves others has fulfilled the law. The commandments, ‘You shall not commit adultery,’ ‘You shall not murder,’ ‘You shall not steal,’ ‘You shall not covet,’ and whatever other command there may be, are summed up in this one command: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ Love does no harm to a neighbor. Therefore love is the fulfillment of the law."

The Litterbug

Matthew 25: 44-45  ‘‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?’ He will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’”

There is a homeless outreach ministry on the Monterey Peninsula called “Bags of Hope.” This is a grassroots effort designed to give food, support and encouragement to people who struggle with basic needs. More important, it creates the opportunity to make a friend, show compassion and share God’s love in a small way. Each plastic sandwich baggie holds a granola bar, a dollar bill, an invitation to a local church and a note that says the person giving the bag will pray for you. 

A few weeks ago I was driving back from lunch and pulled up to an intersection where homeless people stand to ask drivers for money. I saw a local homeless man holding his sign, looking for a handout. He was not in good health. He was bloated and it appeared that he was suffering the effects of long term drinking. He was dirty, weathered and looked hung over.

The light was red and I was stopped to wait for traffic. I was behind a white SUV and watched the man standing nearby. The light turned green and, as the SUV began to drive forward, the man made a quick move toward the car. I thought it was odd that the driver would wait for the light to turn green to give the guy a hand out. I glanced over to the car and was shocked to see a plastic sandwich baggie sail out of the passenger side window. The bag broke open as it cleared the window. The granola bar, the dollar bill, the invitation to church and the note saying “I will pray for you,” landed in the gutter and on the street. I had to wait for the man to pick the items up before I could drive forward.

I could not believe what I witnessed. I looked at the SUV and there on the back was a fish and cross sticker! How cool is that? Now I realize that there is always more to the story. Maybe the driver was a brain surgeon going to perform a life saving operation. Or perhaps, there was a family emergency requiring an immediate response. I followed the SUV around the corner to understand why a Bag of Hope was thrown like a Frisbee. The destination of the driver? The mall. Must have been one heck of a sale going on.

I should have written the driver a citation for littering.

Matthew 7 : 21-23 “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. Many will say to me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name and in your name drive out demons and in your name perform many miracles?’ Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you...”