Sitting in church on a Sunday morning, two strangers entered the church just after the service began. I glanced over briefly and noted that one of them looked awfully familiar. What’s this person doing here? No, it couldn’t be him! That’s impossible, just couldn’t be him!
In our church small group midweek discussion evening just four days prior, we explored the experience of Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well. A lesson of that experience among others was that we often hold prejudices towards those who think differently than we think. Jesus vividly showed His disciples that though they shunned Samaritans, Jesus did not. I walked away from that discussion evening wondering do I have any “Samaritans” in my life? Are there people I disparage behind their back and don’t realize I am doing so?
It didn’t take long for God to respond to my wondering.
Four days after that small group evening, an unexpected, unplanned and “unexplained” series of events took place for me.
Our church has two congregations in the San Diego area, Vista and National City. Vista is an English only congregation and National City is Spanish with English translation. Since my mother-in-law was in her 90’s, she had a difficult time assimilating the translated services in National City. So, we always attended Vista on a Sunday mornings.
It was Father’s Day Sunday in June 2015 when my wife Carol and I went to my mother-in-law’s home to take her to church as we usually did. Alas, she was feeling under the weather and explained she would not be able to attend church. We prayed with her and left. On the way to the car, we decided to attend service in National City as we had not been there for quite some time. We thought it would be good to see our friends who attend there.
We arrived at the church to a joyful reunion. We were warmly greeted by the members who were still outside and then made our way into the church. We placed our offering into the offering box and took our seats in the fourth-row pew opposite the choir.
The service began with the Bishop, our very dear friend.
A few minutes into the service two strangers came in and quietly took a seat behind the choir, just across the aisle form me. At first glance, I thought I knew the gentleman as he appeared very familiar. But after some thought dismissed him as just looking remarkably like a man I had worked with some thirty-five years before. I hadn’t seen this person since. I figured it was impossible for it to be the same man.
For a few minutes, distracted from my attention to the sermon, I pondered the unlikely possibility. I finally discarded as preposterous the chance that I knew this stranger and quickly returned my attention to the service.
The bishop soon reached a point in the sermon where he requested the choir to render a hymn.
To my surprise the stranger and the lady he was with moved across the aisle and sat in the pew in front of me. Then I realized it is him. That’s Mike who I worked with for ten years at a local company.
I was shocked and immediately prayed, asking God, “What dear heavenly Father are You teaching me by this extraordinary situation?”
Then I heard the whisper of the Holy Spirit’s words, “Meet your Samaritan!”
It didn’t take long for me to understand. For the last thirty-five years whenever I had a conversation about managing styles, I used Mike’s management style as an example how not to manage. Truly I treated him as the Jews treated Samaritan’s, rejection and criticism.
Wow, I thought. I really did have a “Samaritan” in my life. Now the question was, what am I going to do about it?
Jesus taught that we are to love one another, even when we disagree with them.
When the service was over, Mike and his companion made their way to the exit. I caught up with them in the foyer.
I addressed the lady, “I am sorry, but I don’t recognize you.”
She responded, “Oh I recognize you Evangelist Musterer. You baptized my son in this church many years ago. I’m Marilyn.”
I said, “Marilyn, I am sure you are right. But I am so very sorry that I don’t recognize you.”
I looked at Mike, “But I know you!”
Mike said, “No you don’t. We’ve never met!”
“You are Mike Smith and we worked together at TRI from 1978 to 1988. I’m Allan Musterer.”
Mike stood in astonishment, mouth agape. We wended our way outside and continued our brief conversation. Mike explained that he and his wife had moved to Florida where she eventually passed on from cancer. Mike started a business and hired Marilyn as an administrative assistant. Since they both had sons in San Diego, they traveled together for Father’s Day to visit their sons. Marilyn wanted to attend church that morning so since she didn’t have transportation Mike agreed to join her.
I offered my condolences and since they had to leave, I gave Mike my business card and asked him to contact me when he returned home.
The following Wednesday I shared my extraordinary Sunday experience with our small group discussion meeting. It inspired a lively conversation. My only regret was that I didn’t get Mike or Marilyn’s contact information. I wanted to share with Mike and Marilyn what the unexpected meeting meant to me.
The next Sunday, my mother-in-law was feeling well so we attended service in Vista. Mike and Marilyn again attended in the National City church. My friend Bob, recalling my disappointment for not getting their contact information, approached them and after a brief conversation got their emails for me.
I sent each of them an email explaining what I experienced and asked for their forgiveness. But alas did not get a response. I felt much better that I could explain myself and ask for their forgiveness.
I continue to stand in awe of what complex lengths God went to in arranging this powerful lesson from the life of Christ to bring it so vividly into my life today. As you read this experience, consider all the intricate “coincidental” actions of so many people that it took to create this story.
TURNING POINT
I realize again and again to what lengths the love of God goes to teach me to follow the teachings and wisdom of Jesus Christ. So often I can get lost in the hustle of life and slip into conduct that is not consistent with being an active serving Christian. I now make a deliberate effort to measure my words. I am not yet perfect, and still have my stumbling along the way, but I can count on the whispered reminders of the Holy Spirit. I just pray for a heart with skill to listen when He speaks.
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