Whatever Takes Us Away

The bulk of this post was originally put up in December 2006. After reading an article of a friend (http://ceruleansanctum.com/2009/02/not-so-good-samaritans...), I decided to revisit this post. After reading my own story I decided to repost it. At the end of this post I will be adding some additional information/follow up on the post. For those of you who may have read this before, read it again and read my friend Dan's post over at Cerulean Sanctum.

Original Post:

Sometimes we are, as Christians, put to the test. Our convictions are tried and our ability to do the right thing and make the right decision are truly tested. Today was one of those tests for me, and a reminder of something in the past.

I got ready, like I do most every Sunday morning, helped get the kids ready and headed out the door to start the van - in hopes it would be warmed up by the time we all got in to go to church. As it would turn out I said "hello" to a passer-by on the sidewalk. He stopped, greeted back and said he was on his way to church. "So am I," I replied. "Where do you go to church?" he asked.

I told him where I went to church, exchanged some pleasantries, and then he threw out the question: "Could I go with you?" Mind you I had some trouble hearing and understanding him; he's a little older and has a slight speech problem. Well, as I turned and looked at our van, warming up, counting heads I dumbly replied, "We don't have much room." And then conviction set in. "Hold on just a second," as I turned to the front door. I called to Tina, explained the situation briefly, set myself straight and headed back out. "We'll take my van so there's room enough. Let me get it started and warmed." I still had an odd feeling, but went with it anyway. I brushed the frost from the front windshield, told Tina I'd see her in a little bit and we headed to church, Jepp and I.

Many things were going through my head as we drove along. One such thing was a Newsboys song, "Entertaining Angels" and there was another thought right behind that one . . .

While we still lived outside of Chicago we had a visitor at our church one Sunday morning. That morning about 30 minutes before the service started a person began hanging around outside, walking around as people headed inside. She asked for spare change, food, work, anything that may be given. Many people walked by trying hard not to take notice of her. Others told her to simply leave. One of the last people to come in had noticed her, walked to her and asked her to come in for the church service. And so she came.

We did the usual. Sang songs, shook hands, did "church" things. The pastor started to give his message and then to the many, shock set in. He had asked this woman to come up front with him, gave her a microphone and began asking questions about her life, how she got to where she was in life, what was in store for her future, etc. What most of the congregation didn't know was that this was all planned. This woman wasn't a homeless person, but a social worker that worked with the homeless in and around Rockford, IL. Many in church that morning found themselves looking introspectively, asking themselves what they had said, or not said to this person and how they may have treated many others like her throughout their lives. It was a definite eye opener for many, myself included - even though I knew about it before hand.

Jepp and I shared, though he didn't know it, a moment this morning that made me realize that I needed to be tested. My faith in action had laid dormant for a while and required a little dusting. I brought him to church, introduced him to those we encountered, showed him the fellowship area (complete with freshly brewed coffee) and a familiar face to boot. You see, Jepp walks the streets of Bethel all day long. Each morning he visits McD's and sees some of those faces (from church this morning) while they are having their breakfast and coffee. From what I gather he seldom ventures outside of our little village - and his known world - but this morning, God put him in my path, to check me and my Christian action. After church, I gathered my things, watched Jepp chat (very little) and watched as those around him shake hands, hug and greet him with love, inviting him to come back again. We walked to the car, quietly got in and drove off.

He isn't much of a talker, and that's okay with me. I can handle comfortable silences with friends and strangers alike. We got a couple miles away when he pulled out a small wallet, showed me a McDonalds symbol and asked if I could take him there - you see, in addition to the speech problem, Jepp is also illiterate. But, again without his knowing, Jepp and I shared a moment. He has a routine, and each day that routine includes McD's.

I still felt bad about our initial encounter, even after returning home and having had a few moments to myself to take it all in. After all, at first I wanted to send him on his way, walking around the streets of Bethel. With this simple testimony I am reminded of two things that Jesus taught: 1. Luke 6:43-45 No good tree bears bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bear good fruit. Each tree is recognized by its own fruit. People do not pick figs from thornbushes, or grapes from briers. The good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and the evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For out of the overflow of his heart his mouth speaks. 2. The parable of the Good Samaritan. I am sure many have simply walked by this man, day after day without even giving him a single glance. I was convicted this day to be the Samaritan that stopped.

And there we were, Jepp and I.

Follow up commentary:

Well, it has been a while since I first posted this/read it. After I read Dan's article about the Good Samaritan I was immediately reminded of this post and set out to find it in my archives. Once I read it I realized I hadn't posted much about Jepp in quite a long time. Sadly, I haven't seen Jepp around in several months. Once in a while after I had taken him to church with me he would stop by. Usually, Tina or I would give him some food (brown bag lunch if you will) and occasionally some spare money (if we had anything to share). He went to church with us one other time, and he was greeted with just as much love the second time as the first. People remembered him, shook hands, and talked with him as best they could. However, at some point over this past summer Jepp no longer came by. I do not know what has become of this man, if he moved on to another town nearby (which is doubtful) or if he had passed on, gone to meet his Father in Heaven. Whatever the case, I am again reminded of the Parable of the Good Samaritan.

Sometimes our Christian walk seems virtually unrewarding, like we have said "yes" to something, but never get to share that with someone outside the walls of the church, someone with whom we could make a difference. This was a chance in a lifetime for me, and I am glad I did what I did. Having seen poor children in Mexico, Korea and Thailand beg for anything they can get their hands on, I know too well that feeling when you know you can do something decent, but don't. That cold December morning, a man approached me with a query and I had to make a decision, and fast. The decision I chose to make impacted me then, still impacts me today, and will most likely impact me for the rest of my life. Once again, without his knowing, Jepp and I share a moment - the blessing may have been his on those days when I took him to church or shared a meal with him, but without his implicit or explicit knowledge I will have the blessing of having known and provided something for him the rest of my life.

I sometimes look for Jepp in places I would see him around town, but I see him no longer. Sometimes when there is an unexpected knock at the door I think it might be him, but it no longer is. Not all stories will be so good, but if you step out in faith from time to time, you might have a Jepp story of your own - one that will have a positive impact on your life and the life you reach out to care for.