The Shoe Shine Man

    I had just checked my suuitcase on a flight from Raleigh, NC to Washngton DC. I was on my way to the annual banquet of People for the American Way. I had a few extra minutes and a pair of scuffed up shoes, so I stopped at the shoeshine stand before going up to the gate. Both chairs were occupied. I waited and listened to the casual conversation between the men shining shoes and their customers.
    It was pretty typical male conversation about basketball and baseball teams – about shy teams lost the week before and why they should, or shouldn’t, win the next games. I noticed next to the cash register a large jar with a handwritten sign that read something like "Apostolic Church of God and True Holiness Building Fund. Contributions Appreciated!"
    Finally one of the patrons stepped down with bright shining shoes and gave the shoe shine man seven dollars. He stuffed a couple more dollars in the buiding fund jar as he left. I climbed into the chair and settled down while the shoe shine man began to brush my shoes. He was silent at first, then asked: "Where you headed?"
    "Washington," I replied.
    "DC?" he probed.
    "Yep."
    "Business?"
    "Yeah. It’s related to my work."
    "What kind of work do you do?"
    "I’m a minister."
    "You’re a preacher?"
    "Yep."
    Silence
    "Thought so," he said. "You’re that Creech fellow – that minister that’s in the news so much around here, aren’t you? The one who married those two men?"
    Well, I was caught! Sitting in this elevated throne-like chair, my feet resting on iron supports as this sports fan, this holiness, evangelical and charismatic black male stopped brushing my shoes and looked up inot my eyes, all I wanted to do was disappear. This was not the situation for me to expect understnding and support. I didn’t look forward to the conversation I knew was to follow. But, there was no way to get away.

*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

    It was May 1999. Just a month before I had conducted a holy union ceremony for Larry Ellis and Jim Raymer in Chapel Hill, NC. There had been a lot of media attention given to it.
    In 1997, I celebrated a similar holy union for two women in Omaha, NE. Then, to, theer was much media attention in North Carolina, my home state. The ’97 holy union resulted in a trial in March of ’98, in which I was narrowly acquuitted. I had returned to Raleigh in June of '‘8 because the Nebraska bishop, Joel Martinez, decided to remove me from the First United Methodist Church in Omaha where I was the Senior Pastor at the time. Although I had not yet received official word, I was sure there would be another trial, with the certainty I’d be found guilty this time.
    "Yep." I nodded, the word sticking in my throat.
    My shoe shine man then turned to his partner who was now standing near the cash register: "This here is that Creech fellow, the minister who the church has been giving such a hard time because he married two men."
    I was both relieved and amazed! His comments already weren’t what I expected.
    Facing me again, he asked, "Why is the church giving you such a hard time? Why do some Christian people think they’re so superior and treat other people so bad? Why can’t people just let other people be? I don’t know if it’s right or wrong for two men to love each other and marry. I don’t understand it. But, it don’t matter what I think. It’s not up to me. That’s up to God. We just need to get along. We need to stop judging one another and putting people down just because they’re different, and let people be who they are. We just need to learn to get along. You’re a real preacher. What you’re doing is hard, but it’s important. You’re doing the right thing."

    At the People for the American Way banquet the next day, I received an award for "challenging bigotry and promoting tolerance within the church." It was an honor to receive this award. But I’ve never felt more humbled and honored than I was by the words of the shoe shine man. His understanding and grace, not just toward me, but toward people who he didn’t understand, was profound. If the world had more people like him there would be more justice, freedom and peace in it.

    As I stepped down from his chair and passed the building fund jar, I stuck in a ten-dollar bill. If his church taught what he believed, I wanted to give it my support. And, if it didn’t, I wanted him to have a lot of influence in it.

                                                                                       
                                                                               Rev. Jimmy Creech

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