One of my heroes is a man named Tony Campolo. A charismatic speaker, insightful author, professor, social activist, and pastor, he passed away last week from a stroke. 

Tony Campolo was one of the voices in my early adulthood who expanded my picture of God. He spoke in the seminary chapel, and I will never forget the story he told, which he later captured in the book The Kingdom of God is a Party.

Tony was invited to speak at a conference in Honolulu. He said, “Hey, sometimes you get Louisville, sometimes you get Honolulu!”  He woke up early, too early, one morning and knew he could not get back to sleep. He went down to an all-night café to get some coffee and a doughnut. At about 4 AM, in walks four “ladies of the evening.” They were winding up an evening of work, sharing their experiences. One of the women told the group, “Hey, tomorrow is my birthday.”  The other women sloughed it off, one of them saying, “What do you want me to do? Get you a cake? Throw you a party?”  “No,” said the first woman, “I just thought I’d tell you.”  Then she mumbled under her breath, “I’ve never had a birthday party.”

After the women left the diner, Tony called the short-order cook over. “Do those women come in every night?” he asked. “Yeah, pretty much every night,” the cook replied. Tony said, “What say we throw the birthday girl a party tomorrow night.”  The cook said, “That’s a great idea! Everybody loves Agnes! In fact, I’ll make the cake.”  Tony agreed to provide the decorations.

Tony went to the café the next night with his arms full of decorations. He and the waitresses hung streamers and balloons and a big banner that said, “Happy Birthday Agnes!”  The cook had whipped up a beautiful cake. Then they waited for the birthday girl.

At about 4 AM, Agnes walks in with her friends, who had been tipped off to the plan. Everyone in the diner, the waitresses, customers, the cook, and Tony yelled, “Surprise!”  Tony led in a boisterous singing of “Happy Birthday!”  The cake was brought out with some candles, and Agnes was invited to blow out the candles. She did, but people could tell she was in a state of shock. She stared at the cake, and then the cook said, “Come on, cut the cake.”  Agnes said, “Can I please take it home? I promise I will come right back. It's just that I have never had a cake before, and I want to take it home and stare at it. Is that okay?”

What could they say? Agnes left with the cake, and there was silence at the diner. Sensing the awkwardness, Tony said, “Let’s pray.”  That’s what Baptist preachers do when they don’t know what to say.

Tony prayed for Agnes, for God to bless her on her birthday, to show her his love and care. He prayed for God’s protection over her while she walked the streets. He prayed that God would provide for her so she could make different choices in her life. And he prayed for her friends and everyone in the café. 

When Tony said, “Amen,” the cook leaned over the counter and grabbed Tony by the shirt. He pulled him close and said, “Hey, you never told me you were a preacher. What kind of church do you belong to?”

Tony said at that moment, the Holy Spirit gave him the right words to say. He looked the cook in the eye and declared, “I belong to the kind of church that throws birthday parties for hookers at four in the morning.”

The cook said, “No, you don’t. There isn’t any church like that. If there were, I would belong to that kind of church.”

I remember that day in the chapel; Tony paused long enough for all of us smart seminary students to squirm in our seats. Then he said, “Wouldn’t we all want to belong to a church like that?”

I heard that story over forty years ago. I think Tony was right. Our churches need to throw more birthday parties for hookers and for all the other broken people in the world.

Thank you, God, for Tony, for reminding us the Kingdom of God is a party.