Last month, a woman called the church to tell us that a man was walking all the way from Massachusetts to South Carolina carrying an 8-foot, 60-pound cross. She said that the cross carrier, a recovering drug addict and alcoholic named Michael, wanted to draw attention to the power of the Holy Spirit in helping hurting people stay clean and sober.

That was the windup - here was the pitch: Would Michael, who was in Darien at the time and figured to be walking into Greenwich sometime later that day, be allowed to sleep at our church overnight? Without waiting for an answer, she insisted that he would need neither a bed nor a shower, nor a nice hot breakfast in the morning. All he'd need was a place to lay his head.

Recalling the time when Jesus reportedly remarked that he did not have a place to lay his head, I figured it was my Christian duty to say "yes." After all, it was the least I could do (never let it be said that I didn't do the least I could do).

Without benefit of a letter of reference or certificate of insurance, I told the woman that it would be our honor to host him. I even gave her my cell phone number so that Michael could call me when he got into Greenwich. That way I could personally shake

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the man's hand and open the church's doors, regardless of the hour.

Less than 15 minutes later, my cell phone rang. It was Michael, calling to say that he was in the church parking lot.

"You walked all the way from Darien to Greenwich in 15 minutes?" I asked suspiciously.

"Well, no, I got a ride 'cause it's raining." he replied sheepishly.

As I walked out to meet him, I felt like I had just been punk'd by a guy who was "walking" along the Eastern seaboard carrying an 8-foot, 60-pound cross in a car!

When I shook his hand, I intentionally omitted one word. I asked him, "How are you?" but what I wanted to ask was, "How committed are you? Are you so committed to Christ that you're willing to carry his cross all the way from Massachusetts to South Carolina unless it's raining? Unless it's uncomfortable? Unless it's inconvenient? If that's your level of commitment, pal, you should've just checked that big ole cross as luggage and flown from Logan to Charleston."

Unbelievable. Here was a guy who stated purpose was to get folks to commit to Jesus - and the very first thing I questioned about him, before I even met him, was his commitment.

Sometimes, my friends, we do our causes more harm than good.

I know that because, well, I've done that. Sermons I thought would help someone in the pew actually ended up hurting them. Bible studies that I hoped might resolve difficult questions actually wound up spawning more. Counseling sessions that I envisioned would initiate peace actually incited conflict.

God forgive us, but sometimes we do our causes more harm than good. Then again, sometimes when we wish to cause harm, God does good.

If you don't believe me, just ask Gino Castignoli. Despite the fact that the construction worker lives in the Bronx, the misguided Mr. Castignoli considers himself to be a citizen of Red Sox Nation. As such, he decided it was his civic duty to jinx the Yanks by sinking a BoSox jersey into some wet concrete in the new stadium.

Well, someone sabotaged the saboteur and the plot to curse the Bronx Bombers was uncovered. Two jackhammers and five hours later, the tattered baseball shirt was liberated from the rubble and promptly placed on eBay. Within a week, that ignominious item sold for more than $175,000 - every cent of which was sent to the Jimmy Fund, a Boston-based children's cancer charity.

This modern miracle is yet another concrete example of God's commitment to us - rain or shine - that despite our flaws, foibles and frailties, swords can be made into plowshares, vices can be made into victories, and curses can be made into cures.

Rev. Kenneth Kieffer is pastor of First United Methodist Church in Greenwich. E-mail: 27Yankees@optonline.net.