Mike Slater stopped me in the church hallway right after service.  The year was 1998 and I had just preached a sermon entitled, “God’s Invasion of Love,” based on the Apostle Paul’s letter to the Philippians–

“Have the same mindset as Christ Jesus:  Who, being in very nature God,  did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness.  And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross!”

My challenge to the congregation was to do as Jesus had done; to get outside our four walls and invade our local world with a radical message of His love.  I made the bold statement that we should not be afraid to even invade the most dangerous neighborhoods in Birmingham’s inner-city since it is His Great Commission, and He promised to be with us.  Mike must have listened closely because he challenged me to actually act on what I had preached.

“I run a little store in the Norwood community in Birmingham,” he drawled with teary eyes and an eager heart.  “It’s about the worst neighborhood in Birmingham right now– gangs, shootings, drugs– all kinds of problems.  Right next to my store is a little parking lot with a grass field where there’s an empty lot.  Why don’t you bring Master’s Commission up there and bring some “God” into that empty space– it’s just sittin’ there waiting on y’all to come.  Or did you not really mean what you said in your sermon?”

I was convicted deep inside my heart, and strongly felt the Holy Spirit inviting me to make a substantial move– one with hands and feet, not just words.  I agreed to meet Mike at Matt’s Market in Norwood the very next day.  The neighborhood was just as Mike described. Gang graffiti was tagged all over the outside walls of the small store  situated in the midst of several run-down apartment buildings.  The drainage ditches between the buildings were littered with all sorts of trash, broken furniture, and relics of alcohol and drug issues.  The market had no windows, and a great big chain with multiple locks secured the wooden door whenever the store was closed.

Mike offered free drinks and snacks to our team if we would come, promising that he would be there as well to make sure nothing crazy happened.  The Holy Spirit witnessed that this was the place to begin an invasion of love.  I asked Mike’s permission to paint over the gang graffiti on the side of the building and put a new message to the neighborhood.  Mike not only agreed, but also bought the paint.  All I had to do was provide the artists.  My team of 40+ Master’s Commission students later visited the site with me to be inspired by the challenge– and they were– and together we chose new message to the community.  Within a week the gang graffiti was gone, and Matt’s Market became a giant billboard for the Norwood community.  It simply read, “God Loves Norwood” in giant letters, surrounded by a happy rainbow in the sky.  The message was unmistakable, and the invasion of love began.

Our first Saturday (weekly) outreach began with free hotdogs cooked on a large grill, soft drinks, music, games for the kids, and prize drawings for those who would register.  It drew a huge crowd.  A new day had dawned, just like the mural on Matt’s Market promised.  As my team members moved around meeting people and learning names, we promised the residents that we would come regularly, every Saturday to minister to them.  Parents and children alike responded with great anticipation, but warned us about the drug dealers and gangs that might try to interfere with our plans.  Some even predicted that the mural would be tagged with graffiti by morning.  A plain clothes policeman who showed up pulled me aside and began pointing out who the dealers were– most of whom were “checking us out.”  Dealers ran this neighborhood and weren’t thrilled about intruders.  Still, God’s invasion of love was underway in full force.

A young man in a yellow raincoat was pointed out specifically by the officer.  “Keep your eyes on him,” he warned.  “He’s trouble.”  Izzy, my assistant director, went straight to him to make a connection.

“Hello sir, I’m Israel. What’s your name?”

“Satan.”

Unfazed, Izzy responded, “Well Mr. Satan, d’you want a hotdog?”  The man in the yellow raincoat was totally disarmed.  Israel wasn’t afraid of him, and the invasion of love was unhindered.  “Mr. Satan” began a conversation that tested the waters, but Israel remained steadfast– and kind.  The man bragged about his “badness” and declared how he was planning on ending up in hell someday–  forever partying with his friends

Unexpectedly,  a young girl, age 6 or 7, ran toward the yellow raincoat man and held tightly his leg.  It was “Mr. Satan’s”  little niece who’s mother shared an apartment with him.

“Who is this,” Izzy asked?

“That’s my niece– my sister’s baby,” he responded.  “Now, she ain’t like me; she’s going to heaven.”   Izzy noticed the obvious love he had for his niece.  He decided to take a risk.

“Oh, no she won’t,” Israel explained. “She’s going to end up in hell, just like you.  She looks up to you, and will live her life just like you teach her to live.”   The man in the yellow raincoat was stunned.  He said nothing for a moment, and then he squatted down to the little girl and instructed her,

“Now you go with this man and get a hotdog, and have a good time with these people– do whatever they say, you hear?”

Izzy led her to the outreach site and placed her with the other kids who were watching our dance team perform.  The invasion of Love had begun to permeate a dark, dark corner of Norwood, and continued doing so for the next five years– until Matt’s Market closed and the building was sold.

Not one time during those five years was the God Loves Norwood mural tagged with gang graffiti.  It was off limits.  Within a year, the Birmingham police reported a drop in the crime rate in the Norwood community, and the Gospel was openly preached  almost every Saturday of the Master’s Commission school year.   Using Norwood as a model, Master’s Commission eventually opened up eight different weekly outreaches in some of Birmingham’s toughest neighborhoods.

Sadly, within a month of the opening of the Norwood outreach, the man in the yellow raincoat (Mr. Satan) was killed in a gang shooting.  We were so hoping to win him to Christ!  But his little niece remained with us on a weekly basis until her family moved.  The mural at Matt’s Market simply proclaimed what we all know well– the Invasion of God’s Love will never end.