On the road, I lived these stories this summer. On August 4, I sat in my aisle seat aboard U.S. Air in Munich, Germany. Our E.O. group was headed home via Philadelphia.
We were returning home from the 2010 Passion Play in Oberammergau, Germany. A German girl, nearly 6-feet tall, took the window seat beside me. She was headed to Nashville via Philadelphia to vacation with family friends.
It was Jana’s (pronounced Yana) first flight. Yes, her parents approved the trip even though her dad has terminal cancer. Jana had graduated from high school and expected to enter college in September.
Academically inclined, fluent in German, French and English, Jana needed a little coaching and comforting.
Members of our E.O. group met Jana. Then, I helped her with questions about American money and America. We reviewed her Immigration Form and promised to help her through customs, transfer her luggage, and walk with her to the Nashville gate in Philadelphia.
After that, Jana relaxed and enjoyed her first flight. In Philly, Jana and I went through customs, got her bags to the transfer desk and walked to her gate. She thanked me and we parted.
It felt like a father helping his daughter get from point A to point B safely. More than that, the story had to do with ministry on the road. Had a member of our E.O. group not exchanged his aisle seat for my middle seat, I would not have met Jana.
But I guess it’s no different than the stranger I met at Wendy’s in South Haven.
My wife, two daughters and I attended a joint birthday party for our granddaughters in Naperville, Illinois. Returning to Lansing, we decided to return another way. Instead of I-94 East to I-69 North, we took I-196 to I-96, etc. Then, Wendy’s signage invited us to stop in South Haven. So, we did.
As I munched on my sandwich, a man parked his car by mine. Smoke was pouring out of it like a house on fire. Concerned about my car, I left the table and moved it.
Also, the stranger told me he needed coolant but had none. By the time I parked my car elsewhere, my youngest daughter came outside.
She asked me if I thought the antifreeze coolant I purchased before we left Naperville could help the man.
It was an unopened gallon of Prestone 50/50 Pre-diluted Antifreeze Coolant for my car. I offered coolant to the stranger with the request that he leave me a little for emergencies.
Then, I suggested that he purchase more antifreeze because he had a leak in the system.
“Sir,” he said, “I have no money.” Immediately, I opened my billfold and gave him some money. He said, “Thanks,” got in his car, returned to I-196 and disappeared in traffic.
Until my daughter’s question, I had not fully realized that God had me purchase the antifreeze for the stranger at Wendy’s just as God had inspired us to return home another way — something we rarely do. God wanted me to be engaged in ministry on the road.
There we (my family, with me on Renewal Leave) sat, stood and watched hundreds of folks enjoying themselves at the English Bay Beach in Vancouver, British Columbia. It was hot, but not too hot for sunbathers, swimmers, walkers, couples holding hands, folks stuffing themselves with culinary delights, licking ice cream cones, riding bikes, walking dogs and a few cats, gawking tourists and panhandlers.
Suddenly, the sound of a huge boom box pierced the air and rocked the beach. A young man in his mid-twenties appeared. He was dressed in a Spandex body suit and shorts with the colors clowns wear. “Spandy Andy” danced and pranced his way to the beach.
At a strategic point, he put the boom box down and began to perform. People stopped what they were doing began watching him. A few were irritated.
Forty minutes later, adults and children had been converted. They had joined Spandy Andy in dance and conversation and applause.
Then, as loudly as he came, Spandy Andy left the beach — boom box blaring, dancing all the way.
Why had we watched him? Spandy Andy had performed a ministry. He added value to our time of Sabbath. His upbeat mood, music, entertainment and joie de vivre drew us in.
During his ministry, our Lord was not assigned or appointed to one synagogue, temple or church. The world was his parish.
In essence, Christ specialized in ministry on the road. He left groups and individuals better than he found them. Inside and outside the walls of the church, we are called and challenged to go and do likewise.
Peace.
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