Jesus' Way of Trust 6: Laugh with God

Jesus is gone. His absence leaves a gaping hole in the world. This is a day of quiet, a day of deep sorrow. And yet, underneath the silence, God is busy planning a celebration for us, with the whispered excitement of the host of a surprise party. The air is electric with God’s anticipation of the great moment. Any minute now the door to the tomb will roll away and new life will burst out to surprise and delight us. God wants us to see and believe. I think God also wants us to laugh.

Alongside the wonder and grandeur of Jesus’ resurrection, there are some terrific comic moments. Mary Magdalene mistakes Jesus for the gardener and starts berating him, demanding that he tell her what is really going on. On the road to Emmaus, Jesus disguises himself as a fellow traveler and cons his disciples like some Scripture-study version of a pool shark. He first pretends total ignorance, then turns around and thoroughly trounces them with his knowledge of the prophets. When Jesus appears to the Twelve, he stands and lets them poke him all over, and even eats a broiled fish to prove to them he is not a ghost.

Learning to trust God can be very serious work. But laughter is also at the heart of any loving relationship. Who do we trust more than the ones who know how make us laugh?

Jesus' Way of Trust 5: Remember That You are Human

Twice in the first week of April, I touched my finger to a vial of blessed oil and then gently made a sign of the cross on someone’s forehead. One belonged to Maddie, who was born prematurely last fall. She has a number of health problems, and her family requested a private baptism so she could be blessed before she went in for surgery to repair a diaphragmatic hernia. She is a tiny but very alert person, who looked right into my eyes as I touched her with water and oil.

The other forehead belonged to Eleanor, who by coincidence also had a diaphragmatic hernia. A few days before she died, I gave thanks for her ninety years of faithful life and blessed her on her way to God.

In most of life, we notice first how people are different – how they look, how they act, what they are able to do. As babies, we have not acquired all those traits yet, and as we lay dying they all fall away again. What shines through is our simple, vulnerable humanity. Seen just as a human being, a person is so beautiful that it feels impossible not to respond with blessings and with love. These are the moments when I find it easiest to believe that we are made in the image of God.

In his final hours, Jesus is stripped of his status, his friends, his freedom, his clothing, and his control over his body. He responds in very human ways. He shows his weakness: he falls, he thirsts, he cries out in grief and pain. He also shows his heart of love, offering forgiveness to the crowd, comfort to his mother and his disciple, and hope to the criminal beside him. In both his vulnerability and his compassion, he shines with the beauty of his humanity. Even before he is raised to new life, he reveals the glorious image of God.

Jesus' Way of Trust 4: Pray with your Whole Heart

Deep in his heart, Jesus has felt the days and now the hours counting down. What will he do with these last precious moments before his arrest? After he finishes his final supper, he leaves his work behind. He has taught what he could teach, healed what he could heal. He goes to the Garden of Gethsemane to find a moment of quiet to be with God.

As the Christ, the Son of God, Jesus feels God’s will within him pulling him towards this final showdown with the powers of hatred and death. And yet he is a human being, as fragile and fearful as any other. There, in the garden, he shares his whole self with God. He is not afraid to ask that he be released from the burden of his mission. Let this cup pass from me, he pleads. Do not ask me to drink this bitterness. Jesus does not receive what he asks for. But, in this moment of honest communion with God, he does find peace. Something shifts inside him, and he finds that he is able to face the challenges before him. With utter acceptance, he tells God, “Let your will be done.” Prayer works, though rarely in the way we wish it would. Prayer does not shield us from heartache or make all our troubles go away. But it works. It brings us closer to God, and it helps us to trust that God will give us the strength we need to face whatever may come.

Jesus' Way of Trust 3: Share the Dream

Tomorrow night, we will gather to remember Jesus’ last supper with his disciples. Knowing that soon he will have to leave them, he gives them a final commandment: “Love each other as I have loved you.” To show them what this love looks like, he wraps himself in a towel and stoops down like a servant to wash their feet.

Jesus has a dream of how his followers will treat each other. He knows it will be hard for us to learn to love and serve each other. Even as he tries to tell his disciples what to do, Peter argues with him, insisting that Jesus must act like a master, not a servant.

Later that night, the ties of love between them will be stretched to the breaking point. Judas will betray Jesus to the authorities. Peter, terrified that he will be taken too, will deny that he ever knew Jesus. From that day on, Christians have failed in love countless times, turning on each other and using Jesus’ name against other people. Jesus shared his dream anyway. And the dream lives on. Jesus’ words have inspired extraordinary acts of love. Christians have given their riches to feed the poor, risked their lives to serve the sick, stood up to unjust laws, sheltered innocents from violence, and accepted outcasts as brothers and sisters in Christ. Jesus teaches us to share our dreams, even when we doubt they will ever come true. One dream inspires another, spreading its seeds far and wide. Our hopes take root in unexpected places, sometimes places we will never see. Let us give our dreams to our Lord, and trust the God of all growing things to make them bloom.

Jesus' Way of Trust 2: Accept Gifts of Love

In his last days, Jesus is invited to a dinner in Bethany. A woman breaks open a jar of expensive perfumed oil, wanting to honor Jesus with the best that she has. She takes the ointment and begins to anoint Jesus’ feet.

As the luxurious scent fills the house, the disciples all turn to see. They are working people from Galilee, unaccustomed to using fine perfumes or being anointed before dinner. They believe in Jesus’ radical rejection of wealth: To enter the kingdom of God, he said, you must sell all you have and give it to the poor. They are shocked that Jesus does not send the woman away to sell the jar and lets it be spread on his feet instead. But Jesus accepts the gift, just as it is given. He trusts that God is using this woman to give him exactly what he needs. Her loving gesture helps him to accept that soon he will die. Instead of fearing a lonely death, he imagines caring hands anointing his body for burial. How many times have we pushed away a gift or a compliment? “Oh, it was nothing,” we say, or “You shouldn’t have,” or “Thank you so much for the offer, but I’ll be fine.” What would happen if we joined Jesus and trusted that God sends gifts into our life for a reason? What if we let go of all our protests and just said a heartfelt “Thank you”?

Jesus' Way of Trust 1: Tell the Truth

Jesus enters Jerusalem to adoring cries of “Hosanna!” It is almost Passover, and the holy city is full to bursting with pilgrims. The crowds are riveted by his words and the stories of his miracles. They run before him, laying down palm branches as if he were a king returning home from a great battle. With the people behind him, Jesus has the opportunity to do something big.

What does he do with this power? In all the gospels except John, he goes to the temple and accosts the moneychangers. He challenges the pilgrims, who use them to convert their foreign money into a proper temple offering. Here we do not see the gentle teacher who uses stories to lead people gradually towards a new way of looking at things. This is Jesus the prophet, declaring the truth with fierce words and actions. He cries out, “This is a house of prayer!” as he turns over tables and scatters coins.

Jesus knows his message will be unpopular. But he does not need the crowd to build him up, and he does not fear their disapproval. He is so firmly grounded in God that God’s truth is all that really matters to him. He trusts God to be beside him no matter what happens next.

May God open our eyes, even when what we see is a difficult truth. May God open our mouths, so we may speak the truth we know with the courage of Christ.

The Trough in the Waves

From Rev. Thea:

Yesterday's post was the last of the Lenten reflections from the people of Calvary. I have been deeply touched by the ways you have bravely shared your faith and lovingly opened your hearts to each other’s stories.

For the daily reflections during Holy Week, I will offer you some of my thoughts on how Jesus showed trust during his journey to the cross and beyond to new life.

This poem has been on my fridge all through Lent. For me it captures the spirit of quiet, searching faith that I find in this season.

God bless you!



Trough

by Judy Brown


There is a trough in waves,

A low spot

Where horizon disappears

And only sky

And water

Are our company.

And there we lose our way

Unless

We rest, knowing the wave will bring us

To its crest again.

There we may drown

If we let fear

Hold us within its grip and shake us

Side to side,

And leave us flailing, torn, disoriented.

But if we rest there

In the trough,

Are silent,

Being with

The low part of the wave,

Keeping

Our energy and

Noticing the shape of things,

The flow,

Then time alone

Will bring us to another

Place

Where we can see

Horizon, see the land again,

Regain our sense

Of where

We are,

And where we need to swim.

Donna Joyce: Feeling the Spirit

I discovered God’s presence at Calvary one day. I believe that it was around Easter time. I was singing with the choir, and everyone was very quiet. I felt something in the air. I knew in a minute it was the Holy Spirit. It was so palpable, very strong. I remember thinking: I am experiencing this, I wonder if everyone feels it. It lasted for a few minutes, and I didn’t want to talk, for fear of losing it. Then, the service went on. This was the Holy Spirit, and I knew it was there. It was a very real feeling. I prayed that everyone felt it. It was exciting, and also very loving.

Jim and Paola Arthur: Walking with Jesus

From Paola: One of my dreams was that someday I would be able to visit Jerusalem. The opportunity came, and my husband and I took a ten-day tour to the Holy Land. While visiting the Church of the Nativity, my husband got separated from the group. When I could not find him, I reported it to our guide, who immediately began looking for him in and around the church. I was getting worried because the streets were narrow and crowded with people and shops. There was not much room for parking cars, let alone big touring buses. I asked God to help me keep my mind clear and not to panic, and to watch over my husband. In the meantime, Jim, who realized he had lost our group, had left the church and found his way back to the square, downtown, where some of the buses were parked. He found our bus driver, who took my husband shopping with him, and then brought him back to the bus. When they arrived back at the bus, the driver called the guide and told him that my husband was fine and they would come meet the group. I have asked God for his help and guidance on many occasions, and he has never disappointed me.

From Jim (as told to Rev. Thea): When we were in the Holy Land, I realized how hard Jesus’ followers had to work for their faith. I sat in a boat on the Sea of Galilee and tried imagine getting out and stepping onto the water like Jesus asked Peter to do. It sure didn’t look easy to me! We traveled to see the holy sites on buses, but the disciples walked long distances, up and down the hills. It seemed like every church we visited was up on a hill. I pulled a muscle in my leg just trying to visit the churches in the Old City of Jerusalem. We went to a monastery that was even further up, high on a mountain. The road wound around and around, and got too narrow for the tour bus. I can’t imagine climbing all that way with just a donkey. I learned that we should never take our faith for granted. People went through a lot to keep it alive and pass it down to us.

June Blair: The Cross above Me

I remember when I was very young, my parents dressing up all five of us kids on Sundays to go to the Calvary Church. Reverend Zimmerman was the pastor then. All I remember about him was that he seemed very big and lived in the house next door to the church. Going to church was part of the family weekly routine, but I didn’t realize back then the meaning of all that was going on.

I remember when Reverend Swenson came to Calvary. I was older and he seemed more like a regular person to me than the ominous figure Reverend Zimmerman had been. My brothers and I went to Sunday school and we were all confirmed at Calvary. We attended fairly regularly for some time, but I still didn’t realize the meaning of all that was going on.

After a few years, my family became involved in Drum and Bugle Corps and our weekends were taken up by practices and competitions. Church didn’t seem so important any more. I knew that my faith and belief in God was strong, but the church seemed like nothing more than a building to me.

Several more years went by and I would go to services at Calvary periodically but still, never grasped the meaning of all that was going on. I was married in the Calvary Church and my first child was baptized there. Every now and then, I would feel the need to go to church but I never could explain why. I knew that every time I walked in to the church, the big huge cross hanging high above the altar would strike me as something bigger than I could understand or explain.

Then one day, life threw me and my family a curve. I blamed God for disrupting my comfortable life and wondered what we had done to deserve it. After months of being angry with God, I began feeling so alone and frightened. I didn’t know why but, I knew that I had to go back to Calvary. The first day I went back, as I was sitting in the pew waiting for the service to begin, I became overwhelmed with emotion. I realized that I had never felt so safe in my life as I did right then. Over the course of the next several months, I began to realize the meaning of all that was going on in the church. I began to understand that this was all part of God’s plan for me and my family and that the church was as much a part of who I am as my name is. I know now that all those trials and tribulations were meant to bring me back to where I belong; with God at Calvary Church.

Now every time I walk into the church and see that big huge cross hanging high above the altar, I swear I hear God say, “Welcome home.”

Calista Greenough: Sharing the Blessing

This is God’s house and He is here today.
He hears the songs we sing and listens when we pray.

Now that’s a real old song! It’s a start to learning about church, and going on to learn about the things inside, such as the font, the pulpit, candles and cross, etc. And that’s what we did.

I sang in the choir, junior and senior, and came to love the altar linens and paraments, and the beautiful fabrics of the church season. So, eventually I joined the altar guild and became a licensed lay leader, a chalice bearer and a lector. Each of these roles is so meaningful and has added so much to my life.

Then I became an LEMB [Lay Eucharistic Minister B, or Eucharistic Visitor] and able to take communion to the sick and shut-in, truly a great privilege. Phil Bateman, Joe Schramm, Jane Dickinson and I were in the first group from our church to go to Saint Paul’s Cathedral in Boston for our training. I can’t begin to describe the feeling I’ve had each time I’ve taken the sacraments out to grateful people. I’ve ended up gaining more from them.

My special person was Barbara Wentworth, who was in assisted living in Peabody near the Danvers line. What a lady! It was my pleasure to know her. She died at 101.

My faith in God and in prayer has seen me through ups and downs so far. Thanks be to God!

Neal Grasso: My Grandmother's Faith

My grandmother was a spiritual woman who, without question, put all her faith in God. Growing up I never understood how she was able to steadfastly trust that God would always see her through life. I've experienced difficulties in my life, when I could hear my grandmother saying "Trust the Lord, mi hijo, he's always there for us."

My grandmother's words were never more powerful to me than on the night my daughter, Mia, was born. It was a quite simple moment that reminded me how important it is to trust God. After Mia was born I sat alone with her in the delivery room while the doctors took Stacie into an operating room to locate and repair a minor source of bleeding that they were having trouble with. It was about 2:30 am and I was in a rocking chair near the window just staring at Mia. I was in awe as I softly sang to her while she slept in my arms. I was also a little scared. While the doctors assured me that there was nothing wrong with Stacie, I was worried because I couldn't be with her at that moment, when I so wanted to be.

I remember thinking about this new, incredibly important, responsibility I now have. It wasn't just the two of us anymore; it was the three of us. How could I be there for both Stacie and Mia when they both needed me? It was then that my grandmother's words reminded me to "trust the Lord". Her voice continues to remind me how important it is to trust God.

Erika Bianchi: God Guides Us

Approximately five years ago, on a beautiful warm, sunny morning in Southwest Florida, my husband, Bob, and I went out to run some errands. Upon entering the store, I said to Bob that I would get the potholders, and asked him to get paper towels.

After selecting the potholders, I went in search of Bob. When I located him, he was empty-handed.I asked where the paper towels were, and he replied that he could not find them. I found that a bit odd, particularly since he was at the end of the aisle which housed them, but I grabbed some paper towels, and we proceeded to check out.

As we walked to the car, I glanced at my husband, and thought he looked a bit stressed or anxious – I was not sure which. I asked him if he was all right, to which he replied that he felt “strange”. When I asked what he meant by “strange”, I realized that he was having difficulty expressing himself. My heart was pounding, because I was very afraid that Bob might be having a stroke. I knew that I should remain calm, and tried to remember all the questions one should ask in such a situation.

Once we were in the car, I asked Bob his birth date, address and telephone number, and to my horror, and his extreme dismay, he could not remember any of those things. He could follow directions, such as raising his arms when asked. However, when I asked him to repeat a simple sentence, he was unable to do so. I was now convinced that it was a stroke. He was acutely aware of the fact that he was unable to recall basic facts, which made him extremely anxious.

I told him that I was going to drive to the hospital, to which he was vehemently opposed, and insisted that we return to the condo. Several times while en route to the hospital, Bob insisted that I turn around and drive to the condo. My instinct told me that I must go to the hospital, but I was terribly conflicted. I knew at this point that Bob’s fate was in God’s hands, and I asked God to take care of him, and to guide me to do the right thing. God guided me to do the right thing, I believe, because I felt a sense of absolute certainty that I had to disregard Bob’s insistence that we return to the condo, and proceed to the hospital.

And God protected Bob, for which I am eternally grateful. He had not suffered a stroke, but had suffered an episode of what is called Transient Global Amnesia, a non-stroke related phenomenon, which can last from several minutes, to several days, and which causes temporary short-term memory loss. Doctors are uncertain as to precisely what causes a TGA. Bob’s memory began to return shortly after we arrived at the Emergency Room, and was completely back to normal later that day. After a three day hospital stay, and many tests, he was discharged in excellent health and, thankfully, has never had another TGA. The outcome of that day is something for which I thank God daily.

Jim Gordon: Lift the Awful Sadness

‘Trust in the Lord with all you heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will direct your path.’ Proverbs 3:5-6

I had been separated from my wife for about four months when my mother had her first stroke. The last time I had spoken to my wife was two weeks prior to this, and she told me she was sure she wanted us to divorce. Our six-year marriage had been unraveling for the past two years, and, though she had told me it was not entirely my fault, I still felt like a failure in the eyes of God.

At this same time, the company I was working for was selling off divisions. I went into work one morning and discovered that we had been sold, and within three weeks I was part of a lay-off of six hundred people. This was the only place I had worked since college, a period of almost twenty years. My mother passed away within the next two months.

I had experienced the death of my marriage, the passing of my mother, and the loss of my job within a span of about six months. I had no siblings or anyone my age I was close to, and I was consumed with bitterness and grief. I was still a young man in my early forties and wondered how I would recover from this series of events.

It was at this time that I put my trust fully in God. I prayed every day that He would help me through this and lift the awful sadness from me. Over the course of weeks and months, God helped me to regain my sense of purpose in life. A dear cousin became like a sister to me. I had recently come back to Calvary Church, and a fellow parishioner helped me find the job I have had for the last fifteen years. As I reflect back on this period of grief and healing, I am certain that God wants me to be happy, fulfilled and fully alive.

Karen Graves: Coming Home

When I was in my early 30's, I ended a 13 year relationship with an alcoholic. In the years leading up to the closing of that door, I thought about leaving many times. But I was stubborn, and also thought that I knew best. I thought that the proof of my strength was in the staying, and I thought that I was in control of the situation -- that I knew what I was signing up for by staying. And being alone again seemed so very scary, even as being in that relationship became more and more frightening. So, for a time, I ignored every sign that I was making a mistake. But those signs kept coming, faster and louder - until it seemed as though the entire universe was shouting at me to stop, to admit that I didn't know what I was doing after all.

And eventually, reluctantly, I did. I was finally honest with my friends and family about what was going on. I left. And it was painful. Really really painful. But also -- freeing. I reconnected with friends I had pushed away. I traveled. I started to remember who I was, underneath it all. During that time of rediscovery and discovery, I began attending church in the town to which I had moved. And discovered something else about myself -- I hated going to church alone. I would sit in the pew, and feel lonelier and lonelier. The parish was very friendly, very welcoming -- but instead of feeling uplifted at the end of each service, I would feel defeated.

My mother suggested I come back to Calvary, even though it was a bit of a drive from my new apartment. The stubborn streak kicked in again. "I am a fabulous independent woman now! I don't need to go crawling back to familiarity!" I thought I knew best, and that what I needed was to conquer my weakness and force myself to get used to going to the new church by myself. But what I actually did was stop going altogether. And I missed it.

Christmas was approaching, and my mom tried again: "Why don't you just come sing with us for Advent, and on Christmas Eve? We're doing the Healey Willan service music... " Throwing my favorite service music out there was a sly trick, but it still sounded innocent enough -- no strings attached, after Christmas I was off the hook. I walked in the door the next Sunday morning, and I knew that I was home. A few weeks of Advent turned into several years of Wednesday night choir practices and Sunday morning services. I reveled in the familiarity. I felt a reconnection to my spirituality that I had feared was gone for good.

I've always found it fairly easy to believe in God. But trust is a different story. So many times, I am convinced that I know best -- and I stubbornly stick to that path in spite of all nudging, gentle and otherwise, in another direction. Yet, when I finally do pick my head up and listen, I often realize I have been making things needlessly difficult for myself. So it's a challenge for me. A challenge to stop and ask myself, "Am I being stubborn again? Or is this really the path God wants for me right now?" It's a challenge for me to give up that control. But I keep trying, because when I succeed, what comes my way is almost always better than I could ever imagine.

Fred Gates: I Must Remember God Loves Me!

From his early teens until he died, my son Bruce desperately struggled to overcome his addiction disease. For 10 years following his discharge from the US Air Force, his addiction habits controlled his life. Even after he married and had a son his addiction habits didn’t change. While under the influence of alcohol, he was arrested for assault and battery against his wife and two-year-old son. (There was no bodily injury.) He returned to their empty apartment, started to play with his son’s toys, broke down and cried, and left the apartment.

This was about the same time that an AA sponsor gave Bruce a Bible. The Bible became the foundation of his survival. He read the Bible daily and thoughtfully marked it with comments. Painstakingly he printed on the inside over of the Bible: The Repentance Prayer, The Serenity Prayer, and The Lord’s Prayer for easy reference. He also wrote: “I Must Remember God Loves Me!” This must have been one of the lowest points in Bruce’s life and Bruce felt that only God loved him.

Over the years, Bruce was arrested several times for charges resulting from alcohol abuse. For the last four years of his life, Bruce was severely punished by an erroneous felony charge that cost Bruce his life. Unknown to me at the time, Bruce’s last words to me were: “I’m tired. I love you Dad. How’s Mom doing?” Yes, Bruce, you were tired and God loves you and so do your family and friends.

Fay Voisine: There is a Reason

I received the following poem in a sympathy card from a friend:


Have faith:
Every event we experience
and every person we meet
has been put in our path for a reason.

This reminds me that God has a plan, even though sometimes it is hard to understand.

Becky Lee: Life will Go On

It used to be so easy to trust in God. When I was a child I had a supportive family, plenty of food, and a beautiful home. As I grew into a woman, I thought that anything was attainable as long as I worked hard. I got into the school I wanted to go to, and eventually attained my dream of being a mother, wife and doctor. God was a provider; as long as I did my part, good fortune would follow.

However, it is not so easy. Although I had seen plenty of tragedy during my residency, it was never personal. It seemed to happen to other people, not me. I was impressed by a dying person's faith in God, but did not think more of it than that.

The untimely deaths of my father and sister-in-law challenged my beliefs and my faith. How can I trust a God who would take a young woman just starting her life, full of potential? How would my children deal with these losses without losing their own faith and self assurance? It was an overwhelming and isolating time.

However, life did go on. We all found the strength to move on with our lives. We resumed the natural rhythm of life, and learned to talk of our lost loved ones with humor and gratitude. I came to the conclusion that nothing is promised us. We do the best we can with what God provides us --good and bad. We need to trust that in the end we will be cared for and loved, and that life will go on.

Marge Watson: I Know that You Care

When Rev. Thea asked me to write about how God played a part in my life, I looked back and decided to start at the beginning. At the age of two months, my birth parents brought me to a boarding house. They left and never came back. Something guided them there. I think God was on my side that day. The owners of the boarding house kept me and raised me as their own. I had a wonderful childhood. They say God works in mysterious ways. I believe he did that day.

When my first child was born, she did not breathe. The doctor called in a nurse to say a prayer over her. Within minutes, she let out a cry. The doctor said, “That did it.” God was on my side that day also. How many times I have called on him, I cannot say. A lot!

When my third son was born, he was a preemie. Rev. Allen Cark came and said a prayer over him and also me. I was so grateful I gave Allen as a middle name to my son. And again God was on my side. He made it.

My husband and his family worked the family farm. We prayed a lot back then. As God says, “Ye who tilleth the soil is closest to God.”

After 54 years together, my husband passed away. When he was in the nursing home for seven months, I wrote this poem for him and put it outside his door in the glass.

Dear God, hear my prayer
I know that you care
The man who dwells within
Is not the one who has been
He is loved by all
Please answer my call
He’s been through life’s trials
Let there be peace of mind
For the rest of the miles
Please God, hear my prayer
I know that you care

God has been there for me in so many ways. I believe He is still on my side. I still have a great family and lots of friends. Now that I am elderly, they all keep in touch with me daily.

John Gettings: Nothing More, Nothing Less

“Excuse me,” a man blurted out from behind me as I stepped off the curb and into a dark, slushy parking lot.

Although another overnight snowstorm had pummeled the area and delayed the opening of my office that day, it was dark again now and after a morning of shoveling and afternoon of working I was ready to head home—just as soon as I remembered where I parked my . . .

“Could you give me a ride to the train station?” the man abruptly continued.

I peered back over my shoulder just in time to see the man ease himself off a curb near the bus stop and walk with a slight limp toward me. He looked to be in his mid-fifties, and through his pockets he was holding together an unbuttoned London Fog–style raincoat. I immediately recognized him as someone I had never seen before in my life.

“I’d heard that the busses might not be running tonight because of all the snow. Could you give me a ride to the Beverly train station?”

Now, the car ride from where we were standing to the train station would take little more than five minutes, and the tangent wouldn’t take me very far off my route home. But those very practical thoughts were quickly replaced: “What does he really want?” “What’s my excuse?” “Is he trying to steal my car?” “Is this a scam? “Is this the thing I read about in that email forward I got last week?” “Should I do this?”

I thought it was an odd request. (Although, in hindsight, “hitchhiking” in a parking lot—when drivers are outside of their cars—makes a lot more sense to me.) And although I know we’re reminded in the Bible not to neglect strangers and show love and compassion for them, a lot of people these days, like me, have been conditioned to consider the worst possible outcomes first.

So during my frantic search for an answer, I decided to not only use my instincts, but also put a little trust in God. I was reminded to act responsibly but think compassionately in situations like these.

This night in particular I knew I wasn’t going to end up in the police blotter, out a nine-year-old Honda, or on the Internet. I was just going to do something nice for someone I didn’t happen to know.

Nothing more. Nothing less.