Great Faith in Unexpected Places

As some of you know, I preached my first sermon this past Sunday. If that sounds as weird, bizarre, and uncomfortable for you as it does for me, we can say I spoke at a church on Sunday. There. Better.

I did most of my preparation in Philadelphia, when I wasn't grading papers or watching Phillies games or observing people or researching skyscrapers.

On Friday morning, I stumbled upon Love Park and was immediately enchanted by the huge fountain on such a lovely sunny day. I took a lap around then found an open bench to start some sermon..er..speaking preparations. I opened to Matthew 15 and reread the story of the woman with great faith.

Jesus only commends two people for their great faith, so when it happens, it demands our attention. Interestingly, both people are very unusual suspects. The woman in Matthew 15 is a Gentile--seemingly excluded from the blessings of a covenant relationship with God. Not only that, she was Greek--a culture at odds with the Jews. Even more, she was a Canaanite--a long-time deep-seeded enemy of the Israelites. To top it off, she was a woman confronting a room full of men--and a feisty one at that. And when this unusual candidate for great faith is placed right next to the Pharisees getting reamed out for hypocrisy and the disciples getting scolded for being so dull, you've got an interesting story on many accounts.

As I continued thinking this over, I heard a voice come from the bench to the right of me. I couldn't hear him very well over the noise of the fountain, and I had to ask him to repeat himself twice. On the third time I heard him ask, "Can we fellowship togetha?"

"Sure!" I answered. He got up and moved to the seat right next to me, sharing a bench.

"I was just sittin' here, thankin' my God for this beautiful day, for everything he's given me, for my health, for my life, for everythin' he's done for me, and then I look over and there you are with a Bible! I cannot believe it! Thank you, God! So, may I ask what you're doin? My name's Calvin, by the way. I'm not botherin' you am I?"

Nice to meet you...not at all...I explained, that, oddly enough, I was preparing to speak on Sunday. He was quite surprised and asked what I was going to speak on. I reviewed this odd story in Matthew 15, where this gutsy woman begs Christ to heal her daughter, and he has some very unusual and disconcerting responses before finally praising her for her great faith. Calvin seemed a little confused. It wasn't until later that we came back and cleared it up a little bit.

We made some small talk...family...jobs...life...weather...until he asked, "So you got any favorite scripture?" I have to admit I was a bit dumbfounded by the question. I've never been much of a favorite type of guy...how does one pick? I punted.

"Mine would have to be First Corinthians two nine." When I asked him what it said, he said, "Oh, I'll let you look it up and read fo yoself." I read it out loud. "I love that verse!" he exclaimed, and went on to explain that when we get to heaven, it's gonna be so great, we can't even imagine it, our minds cannot even conceive it.

I told him that Paul was actually quoting Isaiah, which made me think of one of my current favorite verses. I read Isaiah 55:12. He furrowed his brow and I read it one more time, telling him I loved the picture of pure joy, everything rejoicing, everything made right again. "That's a good one," he agreed.

It stopped there for a while and we talked about Kirk Cameron and other things, then he asked about Matthew 15 again. "What made you choose that story?" he asked.

I explained that I liked how unusual it was, and how it forced us to think. I explained what I thought made the woman's faith so great and so unusual, and then mentioned that it also forced us to ask why Christ responded in the way he did. Was he being cruel?

"Maybe he was just testin' her faith," he said. I agreed. And I explained that this experience probably grew her faith, grew her to become more like Jesus, and was also an important example to the disciples around her. We talked about what this means for us in times of suffering and how Christ isn't out to just meet our every need and make sure we're comfortable and happy all the time, but it's more about becoming more like him.

Calvin got excited about this, understanding and adding to the conversation, repeating, "Yeah! That's true! It's not about us! It's about him!" We talked about Romans 8:28-29, reading it out of my small Bible, saying that the "good" God works for isn't our comfort or material blessing, but being "conformed to his likeness."

After another awkward lull, Calvin first discussed Revelation 21 after having me read the whole thing, excited about the passage when everything is over and done and finished, and we'll be with God, and there will be no more sadness or crying or pain or fear. This brought up his next point when he very emphatically and excitedly explained that the God of Moses and Abraham and Isaac and all those guys way back then is the same exact God that we have today. "He is the Beginning and the End, the same yesterday, today and foreva, and his word stands, and it's truth, and it's good, and he's the same, and he's with us," and on and on he went very excitedly. So much in our world changes constantly, we agreed, and God is the only sure foundation. This led us to Hebrews 10, about "holding unswervingly to the hope we profess because he who promised is faithful." Because he's faithful, we should be too.

A little later, after thumbing through some pages, I asked Calvin, "Why did God save you?" He thought for a while and said, "Hmm. OK. I don't know. Tell me." I read Titus 3:3-5. "At one time we too were foolish, disobedient, deceived and enslaved by all kinds of passions and pleasures. We lived in malice and envy, being hated and hating one another. But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy." We discussed this some more, stressing yet again that it's not about us, it's about him.

He liked this one so much that he got out his notebook and pencil. Then he asked for a review of all the verses we had discussed, writing down each of their references. After around forty minutes together, he got up to leave, and we wished each other a good day and thanked each other for the encouragement.

I was full of joy the rest of the day. Little did I know when he asked if we could fellowship together that it would end up to be true, rich fellowship. It was indeed, and I was thankful.

I thought about Calvin as I pulled together my last minute preparations on Sunday morning. It hit me like a ton of bricks and my eyes got misty with gratitude. I had spent all this time studying an unusual candidate for great faith, and here God was pleased to place one directly in my path. Calvin was an African-American city-dweller, the oldest of the 13 siblings, a recovering alcoholic. We had very little in common. But he had great, vibrant faith and our bond in Jesus Christ was enough to overcome any other possible barriers. Our time together was sweet and much too short.