Sometimes Jesus Drives a Delivery Truck

Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.

Hebrews 13:2

As a believer in Christ for over 60 years, I can sincerely say that I have learned to listen more and more carefully to the gentle whisperings of the Spirit in my life, guiding me, not to great revelations of theological insight, but to quiet and profound moments of surrender that have brought me to tears and peace. I used to seek out the more lofty states of superior thinking, simply because it helped to foster the inner lie that I somehow had something of significance to say to the world. But over the decades, I have found that it has been the little seeds of hope and joy that God has sown into my heart that have had the most impact on the Kingdom and my life.

Many Christians believe that authentic experiences of Christ are few and far between. In a world that has made the mundane the extraordinary, that celebrates our one-minute, 4K selfie-dramas as something to behold, we have lost sight of the breathtakingly beautiful ways in which our Lord reveals himself to us through his holy Word, his sacred signs, and the many encounters with his children along the narrow way of salvation.

A Self-examination and Sorrow

Not too long ago, I found myself caught up in a spiritual vacuum, experiencing some of the greatest doubt and despair I had felt in a very long time. I was in the middle of a mystical identity crisis, looking over the story of my life from an imaginary 30-thousand foot view, trying to make sense of decisions I had made and where they had led me up to this point. I was feeling sorry for myself in the worst way, doubting my ability as a husband, a father, and a follower of Christ.

I was at a Christian church less than a quarter mile from my work, where I cleaned the building each week as an act of service to my Baptist brothers and sisters. As I arrived, I saw a group of teens and youth leaders getting ready to leave on their annual retreat. I thought about how I had led such retreats in my younger days. I thought about all the ministry jobs I had held over the years and wondered whether I had truly made any meaningful contribution to the lives of God’s people.

I also remembered a time when I was a boy, attending a week-long parish mission. I was serving as an altar boy, helping with set up, and generally trying my best to be a servant in a place where I felt at home. One evening, after going to Confession, my Confessor took me aside and told me that he believed God was calling me to be a priest. When I expressed doubts about his assessment, instead of listening and responding in love, he told me that I should reconsider and decide soon, because God would not wait forever before rejecting me for not answering his call. The ironic thing was, what could have been a deeply spiritual encounter turned into an open wound that had a lasting effect on how I saw myself and my vocation within God’s Church.

Suffering in Silent Remembrance

Back in the present, I went into the church to clean and watched the people drive away, remembering those wounding words and wondering why this man of God had chosen to chastise rather than counsel me. I thought about what may have happened had he taken the time to walk with me on that stretch of my journey instead of leaving me to wrestle with my guilty thoughts. Would I have become a priest if he had encouraged me in a different way? Was I really supposed to have chosen the priesthood over marriage and family? Had I made a damning mistake, and was this the reason for the struggles in my marriage and ministry I had experienced over the years? In that brief, insane moment, all those doubts and fears slammed into me in a sudden and surreal revelation of my own sorrow and unworthiness.

That day, as I cleaned and vacuumed and mopped the church building, I found myself crying out to God, confessing – or trying to confess – unnamed sins and unmet needs, and fears and misgivings about who I was and what I had accomplished – if indeed I had truly accomplished anything of substance for the Lord. Was it all just a misguided game I had been playing? Were the struggles and sins and failings of a lifetime simply the result of this one path taken by a 12-year old who feared what might have been had he gone the other way?

Enter Jesus

It was in the midst of this childish pity party that I was suddenly greeted with a cheery, “Hello!” as a young, bearded delivery driver walked up the stairs into the foyer of the church. “Excuse me; I have a delivery!” he said. I answered that I was not a member of the church and was only here to clean, but I would call one of the elders I knew and find out what I should do.

We walked out to his delivery truck and I called the elder, who told me that the delivery was a piece of playground equipment, and I could just have it put on the grass off to one side. I passed this on to the man and he thanked me and opened the door of his truck to take out the equipment. As he did so, he suddenly exclaimed, “Oh no! I have a problem!” One of the pallets in the truck had slid away from the wall and was falling over. I offered to help, and we went inside the truck and worked for a while to move the pallet and the boxes on it back into place.

It was then that the man said something very curious. “This is so kind of you. You’re a good man. You’re a good man!” With his words, the shell of my hardened heart began to break. He didn’t say, “Hey thanks. I appreciate the help!” or any one of a thousand other typical responses. In that moment he said the exact thing my spirit had been unconsciously calling out to hear from God. “You’re a good man!” he said. “You’re a good man!”

Angels Unawares

I confess I wasn’t really thinking too profoundly about the significance of what he said at that moment. I remember being aware of a feeling of peace, of knowing I was in the right place, at the right time, doing the right thing. It wasn’t the task I had done. It wasn’t the simple conversation we had along the way. It was the pure reality of two men in solidarity, acknowledging each other in honesty and unfiltered fellowship. I felt better than I had felt in a long while, and I was only vaguely aware of why this was so.

After he moved the equipment onto the grass, he came over to me and shook my hand. “I’m Mark,” I said. “I’m Josh!” he replied. With that, we said goodbye, and he got into his truck and drove away.

I went back to my cleaning in a more sober and somber mood. As I entered the sanctuary of the church to vacuum, it suddenly occurred to me – I had no idea how the man had gotten into the church! Maybe he came through the basement door and made his way down the hallway and up the stairs to where I was. Or maybe somehow he had managed to come through the main door of the church. I checked it. It was locked. I began to think about the man, his kind, bearded face, the strength he had to move the pallet back into place (I had done very little to assist), and the gentle way he had spoken into my life. And I thought about his name – Josh…Joshua! His name was literally the name of my Savior!

I was struck with a profundity too marvelous for words. In this simple encounter, I had, without thinking, acted out the command of the author of Hebrews (most likely Paul, as far as I’m concerned) to show hospitality to strangers, and had received a blessing I did not deserve but so desperately needed, from – Jesus? An Angel? I had no answer for that; but I knew what had taken place in my heart.

A Prayer Answered with Needed Words

In truth, I make no claim that our Lord had decided to take the form of a delivery driver and walk the world once more just so he could deliver a message of love and hope to a weary man. But it certainly wouldn’t surprise me if he did. At the very least, in his divine mercy, he allowed this “chance” encounter to speak a word of consolation into my life at the exact time I needed it. As I finished cleaning and got into my car to drive home, I began to recall all those times when God had spoken a word to rouse my weary soul through a phone call, a song on the radio, or an unusual happenstance along the way. It was a gentle and powerful reminder that the God who holds the universe in his hands, loves me enough to step down into this world to let me know he is still there.

I will never know what might have been had I chosen to listen to that confessor all those years ago. I do know that he wounded me in ways that have taken a lifetime to understand. But I also know that I have shared the road with a wonderful woman I don’t deserve, who loves me despite my many mistakes along the way. I know I have three, absolutely beautiful adult children who have blessed my heart in ways I can never put into words. I have had some brief and joyful times of success in writing and ministry; and I have seen how the rugged road of salvation has tempered me and helped me to move past the hurts and sins and come out on the other side a better man. It is a sweet healing, a profound joyful renewal that brings me to my knees in celebration of the power of God to move in the heart of such an imperfect man.

A Closing Thought for All Those God Encounters

As I continue along the narrow path toward heaven, I know I will stumble time and time again. I know I will have additional moments where I lose my bearing and find myself questioning who I am and where I am. But I know that my Savior, my God, my Friend – Jesus – will continue to be there to speak to me and coax me further along the road through the darkness to the light of heaven when he comes again. I know I can live with that. I know I can be forgiven and I can heal. And I know I can accomplish all things through the One who gives me his strength through his holy signs along the way.

May God bless you as you walk your own journey along the narrow path to perfection. May he send you sober and solemn messages of hope through his Church, the sacraments, his holy word, and the many divine encounters with him that he brings, day by precious day.