I was talking to a young man recently and he was upset. As I listened I began to understand his problem. He had been to church and while there Christians seemed so Christ-like. It was once they left the church door that he noticed the difference. The ones he lived around thought that he needed to come to Christ in the way they believed and had little tolerance for anything that differed from their opinion of salvation.
As I reflected on this, I remembered a time when I felt very much the same. It seemed to me that Christians were good folks as long as they were inside a church but if I ran into one when I was high or drunk, I saw the look of distain in their eyes. Or maybe they would offer some platitude about how Jesus could save me then I would observe them living like the devil. Hypocrites all of them, was all I could think. But there was also a time the stands out when one Christian man reached out to me in such a loving and remarkable way that it has never left my thought, here is what happened.
In the late 80’s and early 90’s I was a general foreman for an independent rebar company in Los Angeles. It was small, but we eventually acquired a lot of work. The problem was that the work was spread out. From Ventura in the north to Long Beach in the south and it left me a large area to cover while overseeing the work. The company had provided me with a pickup and I had a car phone, so I could be reached in case of emergencies. Mainly I would pick a sector each day of jobs I would visit and work with the foremen. Sometimes in Hollywood or maybe in the Valley or it could be Santa Ana, but I tried to stay in that area to be the most effective.
No matter where I was there was always a bottle of whiskey under the seat and by mid-morning I would be drinking. Most of the time just a hit off the bottle now and again, or I would ‘juice up’ a coke I bought at the local 7/11 but I tried normally to keep it under control. That did not always work.
On the day I would like to share, it had been hectic. Fires to put out on jobs all over the city. On one job I had gotten into it with a city inspector and he really got my blood boiling. As I left that job, I decided I needed more than a nip. I needed a good stiff drink. Stopping I picked up a ‘Big Gulp’ from the 7/11 and only filled it half way with coke and ice. If you don’t know a Big Gulp is a 32-ounce drink you get ‘to go’ and I wanted to fill about half of it with whiskey.
My thoughts were that it was about quitting time anyway, so as I was driving home I drank. Somewhere in the valley the affect of the booze and the long day hit me, and I nodded off at the wheel. As I awoke the truck had veered out of my lanes and across the median. The impact of hitting it blew first my right front then my left rear tire. As the truck went even more out of control I skidded across lanes again and landed in a front yard. Dazed and still drunk, I could not comprehend what had happened. Then I heard a voice and a gentle knock on my window.
As I looked there was an elderly man standing staring at me with a look of worry. I could hear his muffled voice asking, “Son, are you ok? Do you need a doctor or ambulance?” Rolling my window down, I wanted to yell or swear but looking at this compassionate face, all I could say was, “No I am alright, but I do not know about my truck.” Slowly getting out, he could see I was unsteady and inebriated, so he told me to lean on him as he directed me to his porch. When I sat I must have passed out again?
When I awoke, I was confused. Where was I? Then it came back to me and I jumped up with a start. Looking around I saw that my truck was gone, and the man was standing not far off, smiling. I said, “Where is my truck? What is going on? Did you call the cops?” He just shook his head and said, “Calm down, son. I have had a friend of mine pick up your truck and take it to his shop. He will look it over and repair your tires, once you are sober enough we will get you back on the road, I promise.” I sat back down dazed. Finally, I asked him, “Why are you doing this? I could have run that truck into your house.” He smiled again and said with his head lowered, “I saw a miracle when that truck of yours made it through traffic and landed in my front yard, I knew the Lord had put you here and I needed to do what I could for you. It is as simple as that. Tears came to my eyes.
Jesus walked among us, He gave us a commission, “Therefore go and make disciples of all nations….” (Matthew 28:19) But he did not say to make them all the same disciple. He had already shown His followers that it was by compassion, by love and by sacrifice that we will complete this work. But I think we to often believe we can ‘save’ others by churching them without loving them right where they are. And the young man I spoke to reminded me that it doesn’t work.
Years ago, a man took me in after I had ruined part of his yard by driving my truck into it in a drunken stupor. He didn’t judge, he didn’t preach. He, like the Good Samaritan loved this wounded man. Never once did a judgmental word come from him and he paid for my repairs and would not take a dime. As I was leaving he said this, “As I have loved you, so you must love one another…” I did not know he was quoting the words of Jesus at the time. But years later when I read those same words in the gospel of John chapter 13 and verse 34. I remembered him and today, renew my desire to be like him. How about you?
Blessings John
8/13/18
