John was also something of prophet, but his bizarre antics frightened many, including Anna who wrote this poem. John loved to praise God and did so with disquieting ease and familiarity. At times, John had almost clairvoyant insight into issues of justice. He was a misfit and his grace, as Mother Teresa once said, was wrapped in the "distressing disguise of the other." Like many of us, Anna showed up to John's funeral, greatly troubled by the paradox he embodied.

The local paper was going to do a big story on John and the slum lord who killed him, who is himself an incredibly bizarre man who the city has tried to shut down for the last twenty years and a verifiable nut, even nuttier than John. But after a year of procrastination the paper moved on and John’s murder yielded just three lines on the crime beat. Here is the last photo of John a week before he died. I was named the executor of his estate. This picture and a homemade sling to throw rocks at the Goliath’s of this world are about all there is to show for it. John blends in well with a local city mural, above. Look closely, “it takes grace to see grace,” as Karl Barth said.

Kris Rocke
Serves as director of Center for Transforming Mission
Bumps into Reality by accident, most of the time
Heard God laugh once