Trusting the Ways of God

I learned early on in ministry that not everyone appreciates a pastor or priest. In fact, some people are repulsed by the mere thought of a clergy encounter. These people might prefer a root canal to a conversation with a minister.

While attending a Rotary meeting a number of years ago, a friend introduced me to a man who had only recently moved to our city from New York. We shook hands and casually began to chat. I asked him what kind of work he did, and after he told me he was an orthopedic surgeon, he inquired about my profession. I told him I was the pastor of a church in town.

He looked at me for a moment or two, then excused himself, and quietly walked away. My friend, who had introduced us, grinned and somewhat dryly quipped, “I guess he doesn’t care much for Baptist preachers.”

That’s an understatement, I thought to myself, but why? Why did my being a minister alienate him? Perhaps he had rejected God at some point in his life or maybe an event in his past had made him leery of ministers. I wanted to understand why this man was hostile to a person of faith. I decided then and there that I was going to try and learn why the young surgeon had so obviously scorned me.

My intentions were not to win him over through theological debate or argument. I simply wanted to understand why he held ministers in such contempt. Was his aversion to me an intellectual issue or a more personal one? If his disdain for religion was an intellectual one, then I could understand his abrupt dismissal of me. I could hope, even pray, that at some point in the future he would reconsider his position. But if his issue with ministers was because of a bad experience, then maybe I could at least show him a different side.

After all, Jesus had his detractors, but his most severe critics came from the religious establishment, not from those who never darkened the door of a synagogue or temple. Interestingly, the non-religious welcomed Jesus and enjoyed his company. Tax-collectors, shepherds, prostitutes, lepers, and even a Roman centurion—all classes of people considered unworthy of God or unclean by the religious standards of their day—felt at ease in the presence of Jesus. Jesus dined with the so-called societal rift-raft and enjoyed parties with the very people who had been ostracized, even condemned, by the religious authorities. 

Time and again, it was the more secular crowd who rejoiced in the presence of Jesus or praised God when Jesus was near. There was a contagious joy in Jesus’ personality that attracted people—a warmth, a gentleness, an acceptance. When people gathered around Jesus, they experienced a gladness of heart that dispelled despair, bitterness, and sorrow. Jesus did not condemn people; he elevated them and made people feel cherished as God’s children, even if they weren’t Jews. To Jesus all people were God’s children. His relationships with people were not transactional. Jesus expected nothing in return. To love was simply his nature.

How unfortunate that many people think of the Christian faith in terms of judgment, that is, a religion more interested in scolding people with what’s wrong with their lives than an open invitation to receive God’s unconditional acceptance and love. Too often churches are noted for their critical natures, their pushy theological agendas, and their inflexible religious dogmas. When Jesus entered into people’s lives, on the other hand, he heightened their awareness of God’s goodness, love and compassion

The ever-present grief, sorrow, and death that so shadow our world often obscure the goodness of God. Our hearts are shattered when we see grieving families in Israel or starving children in Gaza or senseless deaths in Ukraine. It is human nature to doubt that any sacred presence exists in our world when daily we see on television and the internet immense suffering and death.

Passion Week, the holy days before Easter, helps us to remember that life has always involved suffering and death. Good Friday serves to remind us that Jesus experienced suffering at its worst. The cross reveals that even God is not immune from the world’s sorrow.

That Holy Week is sandwiched between Palm Sunday and Easter Sunday is no accident. God not only acknowledges the suffering in our world, but even personally experiences its brutality.  But grief, pain, and death do not complete the story. As terrible as these horrors are, the hope revealed by the empty tomb tells us that one day all will be set right.

So, what happened to the surgeon who had not so politely rebuffed me? Several months later, during one of our Rotary luncheons, it was announced that the surgeon had been in a serious accident while riding his motorcycle. He was in critical but stable condition in a nearby hospital.

I left the luncheon and drove immediately to the hospital. I took the elevator to the ICU floor and entered the ICU waiting room. There were several people in the room, and I asked if there was anyone who knew the surgeon. A hand went up from a woman about my age.

I walked over to her and introduced myself and discovered she was the wife of the man I came to visit. She explained to me that they were Jewish but she was pleased I had dropped by to check on her husband. I explained that I was a minister and her husband was not particularly fond of me. She appeared a bit embarrassed and then began to share with me that her husband had had a terrible experience earlier in his life when several zealous Christian ministers told him he was going to hell unless he repented and accepted Jesus as his Savior. I assured her that my visit was only one of friendship and concern with no strings attached.

I visited with the wife a number of times while her husband was in ICU, and gradually I sensed that she was warming up to me. One day, she surprised me by inviting me to visit her husband in his room, provided the nurse would allow it.

The surgeon’s wife had spoken to her husband several times about my visits to the hospital, so when I entered his room he did not express surprise. His demeanor toward me had completely changed. He told me he was glad I came by and thanked me for visiting.

Months later, after he had recovered from his accident, my wife and I were invited to their home for dinner. We had a wonderful time and found that we had much in common, including a deep reverence for God. I learned it was not God he was frustrated with but misguided and impatient ministers.   

God works through people’s lives in mysterious ways. God does not badger, coerce or frighten people into his kingdom. After all, the Son of God came riding into Jerusalem on a donkey, hardly an intimidating figure! God woos people through love, gentleness, and understanding. God is so very patient!

The surgeon and I remain friends to this day.