Bishop Jakes paused here for a moment and explained that, since preaching on it nearly a month ago, the story of the woman with the oil had been lingering in his mind quite a bit, and he had been giving a lot of thought to its meaning, talking to the Lord as he did so. After considerable thought, he had found himself favoring a new interpretation: oil is energy, so you have to be careful where you’re pouring it. You don’t want to waste energy since, when channeled properly, energy brings life. Of course, as BP recently taught us, poorly-channeled energy can lead to death. We can’t pour our energy into a place that is not yet ready to handle God. Like the BP oil, some of us are spilling all of our energy in the wrong places and wasting it where it is not welcome. Instead, we ought to be thinking of our energy as a scarce commodity and operating on a very tight budget (like going to the grocery store with a specific list and a big stack of coupons rather than just going through the aisles and throwing anything in our shopping carts). We must let our energy flow into the right spaces and use it wisely.
Don’t spend energy needlessly fighting wolves or looking for comfort or happiness. These things are not the mission to which we are called. The Bible tells us that we must lose life in order to find it, so stop trying to be happy, and you will be happy. If you try to make something happen and focus only on that, then it won’t. While God is limitless, you are a limited resource, and you can’t go spilling yourself on things that don’t really matter. The size and shape of a vessel dictate how energy flows through it, and a greater challenge will dictate a greater flow. Therefore, we must be discerning when we enter into a house. We must speak peace, and if we are rejected, then we should leave. That house doesn’t have the capacity to receive, so pouring out our energy there might be more detrimental than anything else, and it’s a waste of our resources anyway. All we can do is move on. You’re still the person for this mission; it’s just not the right house, a comment that Bishop Jakes punctuated with a yell: “CAN YOU HANDLE IT!?” We shouldn’t doubt the Lord when a house doesn’t accept us. Bishop Jakes entered into his fake-whining voice again, a depressed tone that slightly resembled Droopy Dog. “Oh, they didn’t accept me. They kicked me to the curb. I guess I’m not really called. I guess I’m not really on a mission-- SHUT UP!” Bishop Jakes assured us that there is nothing wrong with you or with your mission or with your opportunities if a house turns you away. We should just move on and not try to invest our resources where we weren’t sent since such bad investing would eventually come back to haunt us. When we experience rejection, the appropriate response is to leave swiftly and not worry about it.
From here, Bishop Jakes launched into an example from his experience as a CEO, citing how, in the business world, employers are supposed to be “slow to hire and quick to fire.” As much as we want to be charitable, we can’t get that backwards, and the church does this often; we’re so happy just to get people that we practically hire them on the spot, and then we’re so desperate not to lose them that our policies become more about appeasement than mission. (This train of thought made me think of Mark Driscoll’s comments on consumer Christianity.) This is a painful mistake to make, and whether it’s in the business world or the church, we must learn to trust our instincts about people. God gives us instincts and warnings in our heads so that, on meeting an untrustworthy person, we know, “Don’t trust her!” We already know not to trust certain people with secrets and to get out quickly, so we must follow those instincts or face destructive or abusive behavior, which will ultimately lead to rejection in ministry. You can’t take on a blessing until dealing with the places of rejection you encounter. Leave these places swiftly, and shout as you do! Don’t worry; God will open another door. Treat moments of rejection as a cause for praise, and thank God for shutting those doors with the knowledge that others will open. The electric organ played a few sustained chords, and there was a drumroll as Bishop Jakes told us to praise and celebrate over what we have lost. This sort of behavior confuses the Devil, so celebrate when one door is closed and another opens!
Oof. It was 11:30, and I was feeling a little woozy. Should’ve eaten a granola bar.
Bishop Jakes explained that this sermon was a simple one: We can always come out of disappointment, but it doesn’t always come out of us so easily. We need to shake the dust off of our feet! People responded to this by standing up and shaking, brushing their feet as Bishop Jakes instructed, “Shake it off! Shake it off! Shake it off!” The drums and organ kicked into a fast riff as Bishop Jakes repeated the instruction.We have to shake the dust off of our feet so that, when we get to the right house, there won’t be a speck on us that looks like the past. We will only be celebrating the new house and the newness of life, not the old places left behind. “Shake it off! Forget it!” People were up and dancing. Bishop Jakes told us that God promises, “If you forget it, I’ll remember that city in judgment. I’ll settle the score. I’ll take over. You just shake it off, and I’ll open the windows of Heaven and pour out the blessing!”
When we’re where we need to be, we should stay in that house and be unmovable. One of the most comforting words in Scripture appears here: the promise that we will wander no more. One of the main problems so many Christians face is that, once we’ve found that home, we still have spirits that have been trained to wander. We’re used to getting up and leaving a place, even if things are going well, but this verse tells us that we will “go no more from house to house.” We no longer have to try and labor in houses where there is no life, leaving behind the places where we were fed. We no longer have to be victim to a pathology of giving up and moving on.
Random thought: I’ve wandered into over 20 houses of worship in fourteen weeks.
That wandering spirit really is a problem, and Bishop Jakes explained that God is telling us, “You have found what I have for you, so I must break you from wandering and help you be content with the blessing.” Sometimes, we get hooked on misery and try to sabotage ourselves because we’re not used to resting. We need to teach ourselves how to rest. If you’re used to enduring through bad times, then bad times are not as difficult, and the real challenge becomes resting and being content in the good times. Sometimes, the real challenge is accepting it and believing it when things are finally going your way. Our minds begin to tell us that everything will go wrong when the reality is that God has handed us a huge blessing. Bishop Jakes emphasized: “Your search is over!”
“My search is over!” I echoed along with the congregation.
Bishop Jakes then told us that, when you get a word that says you can rest, rest. So often, we get hooked on running, but we are told to go no longer from house to house. We must now develop an appetite for the blessing God has given us, but sadly, our appetites often reflect our histories. We have an appetite for where we came from, and here Bishop Jakes used the example of being astonished at the dinner table when his wife put sugar in her grits. Apparently, sugar in grits is as big a deal to T.D. Jakes as BBQ styles are to me. We like the food where we came from, but we also like the dysfunction where we came from. Dysfunction has no appetite for function, and it causes us to pick fights or even make up problems where there really are none. In situations like this, we have far less to fear from Satan than from ourselves. We have to learn to eat what is set before us, even though it looks a little different than the previous staples of our diets. It may be an adjustment at first, but it’s healthier for us, and it will sustain us in ways the old food couldn’t.
Shake off the old. Leave the very unseen particles of the past behind you. Those bits of dust are the things that no one sees except for you, so check your feet and make sure you’re free of the particles that would keep you from resting. Don’t wander. Rest. Rest in the Promised Land. Trust in where you are. Focus on what you have and rest in it.
This seemed like a logical conclusion for the sermon, but as the piano began to swell behind him, Bishop Jakes continued to preach.
“You got oil in you-- passion, energy, life, drive. It’s time to sow what you’ve reaped!” Sow the energy and positive thoughts you’ve been thinking about, but remember that you are what you’ve been thinking about, so don’t dwell on the tears shed in the sowing. Stop thinking about the bad stuff; your thoughts should go where you intend to go. Get ready for a blessing, or you will risk defiling it with your history. We mustn’t lose appreciation for the blessing in our lives simply because we’re so focused on the dust on our feet.
Wash. Your. Feet.
From here, Bishop Jakes talked a bit about cleanliness and how it’s unlawful to touch that which is dead; we can’t be touching dead things all week and then expect to come alive on Sunday morning! There are so many unseen allergens, little specks of dust from the past that are troubling us and killing us and causing side effects, and we can’t just treat the symptoms; we have to shake off the dust. Bishop Jakes informed us that someone else has already done the work for us, so all we have to do is shake it off and reap the blessing. Focus on the mission, and everything else --even money-- will fall into place.
It was just a few minutes past noon, and the sermon had reached its conclusion. It was time now for the altar call.
Altar Call, Benediction, and Dismissal
Bishop Jakes said something amazing and unexpected that made me laugh and smile and feel just a bit insulted all at the same time. On the screens, a request popped up: “No exit during the altar call.” People had already started heading for the doors when Bishop Jakes stated adamantly, “Stay where you are! Remain in your seats! You know, a lot of people get here late and leave right after the sermon, but let me tell you: those of you who are the last to arrive and the first to leave, you should be ashamed!” Whoa. Didn’t see that one coming. Bishop Jakes went on to remind these people rather forcefully that worship wasn’t all about them, and they needed to stick around for the altar call. This showing up late and leaving early wasn’t going to cut it; with Jesus, you have to be all the way in, and Bishop Jakes used a quick anecdote to hit this point home:
There was a little boy who always used to fall out of his bed at night. Night after night, he would come to his mom complaining that he had fallen out of bed. Finally, she watched him preparing for bed one night and quickly realized the problem: he was never all the way into the bed, so of course he kept falling out! We can’t be like that in our lives; we can’t barely climb into the edge and then expect not to fall out. It can’t be all about us and our struggle and our story. Bishop Jakes elaborated, “You only think your story’s good because you’ve heard no one else’s!” This was an altar call though: a time for individual decisions, a time for prayer, and a time of unity in the church.
Moving into prayer, Bishop Jakes began to muse a little playfully about a device he has at home: a dustbuster. He explained that it’s for sucking up dust in tough to reach places and that Christ is often like that in our lives. Jesus gets in our business. He acts as our own personal dustbuster when we come to the altar. Bishop Jakes explained that the Bible tells us we must lose our lives in order to find them and that an altar call is a very personal moment, a “heart thing”, an individual decision to let Christ dust us off. In an altar call, we can’t listen to the excuses offered by the enemy. This is a chance to come down and pray and be changed and give your life to Jesus as the church prays along with you.
Behind me, a small group of women were praying erratically in a language that I could not understand.
Bishop Jakes informed us that God did not call us to lives of comfort. God called us to come! Bishop Jakes called on the church members to offer deep and effectual prayers, and he told us, “God is calling YOU. This is bigger than me. The Holy Spirit wants to do something in you today. Come to this altar. This is your day to shake if off!” Bishop Jakes explained that there is power in being in a good church, and that church is something bigger than all the ways we define and segregate ourselves: black and white, Baptist and Methodist, American and Puerto Rican. “I want to be your pastor,” Bishop Jakes told us, “I want this to be your house. This is your opportunity!”
The band and choir started up again:
Hold to His hand, God’s unchanging hand
Hold to His hand, God’s unchanging hand
Build your hopes on things eternal
Hold to God’s unchanging hand
The camera crane swooped down low to provide shots of people praying at the altar. Despite Bishop Jakes’s instructions, many people were leaving, and I have to admit that I felt a little disheartened that people still had the gall to leave after being called out by Bishop Jakes himself. As the altar call drew to a close, Bishop Jakes returned to the pulpit and began speaking again. He thanked us for coming to the Potter’s House and told us that he had actually just returned from New Orleans (where he had been filming a movie). He would also be leaving right after the service to catch a plane to Phoenix so that he could speak at First Assembly there at 6PM.
Bishop Jakes asked us if we had gotten blessed in the service and then mentioned that he’d be preaching regularly in Fort Worth. He also addressed an issue which has been bugging me lately: pastors relying too much on their life experiences in sermons. Bishop Jakes told us that he uses examples from his own life so that we can learn the lessons he learned and maybe avoid a few of the mistakes he might have made. If nothing else, his life should teach us that, when a blessing arrives, we need to hold it down and hang on and be assured that a joy will always come in the morning even when times seem their darkest, and that’s when things suddenly got very intimate . . .
Bishop Jakes explained that these were some pretty crazy times for him. He had recently experienced four deaths and two scandals all in one day. He said it felt like being slapped in the face again and again and again each time his phone rang that day, and he said that it felt very much like the Enemy trying to take him down. “Don’t let the Devil whip you! You can outlast him!” Bishop Jakes talked about the importance of building up your defenses against the devil; after all, a boat only sinks when the water outside gets in. “We’re in this thing together! God called us!”
Though I’ve scoured the internet, I’ve been unable to find exactly what transpired at the Potter’s House location in Fort Worth. Still, from the sound of it, something nasty went down there, and the pastor of that campus was departing. Bishop Jakes took this time to assure people that everything was alright though and that there was no ill will toward anyone involved. He talked about how we needed to exhibit meekness, and he explained that meekness is not just timidity or passivity. Meekness is strength under control, and that’s what the Potter’s House members need right now. That’s what Bishop Jakes needs right now.
“It’s crazy how I can love you,” Bishop Jakes told us. It was a very personal and intimate statement, one against which no barrier of formality or social rigidity seemed like it would hold. When Bishop Jakes made that comment, there was no mistaking it: he loved every single person in that room and really was honored to be there speaking and preaching and praying with us. He apologized for not being there for every service, but he lauded the other Potter’s House pastors. “I’ve always got a sermon,” he told us, “but God uses other people to feed others.” God uses all people to satisfy all appetites.
He closed this part of the service with a simple statement:
“Y’all good? . . . I mean, for real?”He was greeted with an enthusiastic response, and as we held hands for a final prayer, Bishop Jakes talked about what a wonderful place Heaven was going to be. Again, I regretted the hand-holding aspect of the service because it was a beautiful prayer, and I loved every word. One sentence in particular stuck with me, and I repeated it to myself again and again under my breath throughout the prayer so that I could remember it and write it down later:
“A lot of folks like small churches, think small churches are better, and don’t like big churches like this one. Well, you know what? If you don’t like megachurches, you’re going to have a problem . . . because Heaven is going to be CROWDED!”
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