Occasionally, inspiration comes for a blog message through a recent event. This past Sunday the Gospel reading was The Good Samaritan. I arrived at church at my usual time, going through my mental checklist, getting things ready. Then a man was there, near the chancel. He wore a knit cap and had two plastic bags carrying what I presumed were his personal affects. Nothing new for a Sunday morning; we sometimes get someone who has been trekking along 200 and finds our place of refuge. Then I noticed he had a hospital band around his wrist. He stammered, mumbled, “can I speak with you in private?”. I led him to one of our small rooms and he began a rambling story. He was in the hospital because he had Baker Acted himself. He has nowhere or no one to turn to. He thinks he is losing it; people are after him. Again, nothing new on a Sunday morning. I could tell by his eyes that he wasn’t using. He did confess to doing heroine years before.

You know how little things click, add up, and you know you are in a situation of the Holy Spirit’s design? He told me his age: exact same age as my daughter. There but by the grace of God…He then started to cry. I did not doubt his sincerity. He also clenched a wad of dollar bills. He needed peace, the presence of Christ. I gave him a Bible; invited him to join us for worship. He said that groups of people freaked him out. I told him he could stay there until it was time for us to leave and lock up. I got him a bottle of water. Right before I tried to break away and continue my pre-service prep, he asked for bus fare to get to his aunt’s in Myrtle Beach. I had nothing on me. (Note to self: always make sure I have money on Sundays, other than an offering envelope.) I dismissively said we could help him a little.

After the service, I did as I usually do, stayed to greet people for a bit, then left for lunch. Being the last one to leave, locking up? – “not my job.” Sitting down for lunch, I get a call from one of those who is typically among the last to leave. “Uh, Pastor, we’re ready to go and there’s this man needing help”. I chided myself for forgetting about Dustin. The few who were left gave him $50 between them.

Good Samaritan Sunday at JOY! When I was not completely helpful, others stepped in. One other thing Dustin told me was that he had been trespassed away from other churches. I am so thankful that the Holy Spirit touched our caring, welcoming hearts and gave him a safe place for a couple of hours. We may not always love our neighbor as we should, but for a holy, sacred moment, we displayed a touch of the unconditional love that is given to all of us by our gracious God.

Pastor Art