A few days ago, as I drove down a main thoroughfare in my community, I saw hundreds of pages that appeared to to have been torn from a book flying in the wind. It was near a busy intersection. When I saw the cover, I immediately knew someone had destroyed, or at least tried to destroy, a bible.
Counting me, there were 5 people in the street busily picking up the pages by the handful. I don’t know if the others knew it was a bible or not. I’m not even sure why any of us were scurrying about picking up pages like it was some sort of assignment to rescue top secret papers for the NSA.
When I reached the curb with my wad of crumpled paper, a young person, probably 12 or 13 years old, asked what it was that I seemed determine to save. I told him that these were the pages from a bible that had apparently been torn apart and scattered. With a somewhat puzzled look in his eyes, he asked me why? Why did I find it necessary to walk into a busy intersection to retrieve what I could buy at a big box store for only a few bucks.
Frankly, I did not have a good answer. In fact, I was sort of thinking the same thing. Why did I, along with others, do this? For me, when I saw the cover of the book flipping and flopping across the street, it did become a mission of sorts. I was glad to see others joining in the rescue.
As are as I could tell, we got most of the pages before they disappeared into one of many surrounding parking lots. It was then that I discovered why I was there. This young man, joined now by some other youngsters, said to me, “I’ve never owned a bible.” He said it as if he were looking for permission to take the pages off my hands. I told him I was very sorry to hear that and I would be happy to go buy him one. With a youthful shrug of his shoulders, he looked up at me and replied, “I think I’d like to have what’s left of this one, if you don’t mind.”
My heart was crushed and full of joy at the same time. By now, I knew Mark’s name and he knew mine. I knew he had never attended church in his short life and he knew I was a retired pastor. I handed him the pages that appeared to be a lot of the New Testament, including my favorite book, Philippians. He was ready to go and I asked him if I could give him something else. He said sure. I pulled out my wallet and handed him an invite card to my church along with a $20 bill. “Take you buddies across the street for ice cream,” I said, “or just keep it for yourself and maybe buy a whole bible.”
I received a big hug from a young person who seconds before was a total stranger. But not anymore. I didn’t get the opportunity to tell him about the love of God in Jesus Christ, but if he looks into those wrinkled pages, he’ll find it for himself. Maybe he’ll show up at church and I can introduce him to some other young people who, like himself, are trying to figure out life–and at the same time have a real, abiding love for God.
Maybe I’ll never see him again. But at least for a little while he is holding the word of life in his hands. If he keeps it and reads it, he’ll be able to figure out what life is really all about. I sure hope so.
Finally, as I pondered what had happened, the words of John in the New Testament came to mind. Jesus encountered a man named Nicodemus. Nicodemus was a very religious man, but not a man of faith. Part of their discussion goes like this, “This man came to Jesus by night and said to him, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher come from God, for no one can do these signs that you do unless God is with him.” Jesus answered him, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can a man be born when he is old? Can he enter a second time into his mother’s womb and be born?” Jesus answered, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God. That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not marvel that I said to you, ‘You must be born again.’ The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”
Even a breeze has purpose. Sometimes it is just to carry the word of God into the hands of someone who has never been touched by its power.
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