Treasured Conversations
A story from Pastor Gabriel Snyman..
Prior to COVID I use to facilitate a short Bible study at Surrey Urban Mission, the organization that looks out for the needs of homeless and addicted folks in our community. We partner as a church with them in different ways. It was challenging but also one of the most interesting Bible study experiences I ever had. You would have a guy who lost his legs dosing off because of the pain medication, sitting next to a housewife who happens to be there because she volunteers. Next to her sits a woman covered in tattoos, clearly a familiarity with the streets, presumably with some Pentecostal background shouting out “Jesus” and “Amen” throughout. First Nations people, disabled people, homeless people and educated people, almost bizarrely gathered. Some because they want to come, others because they happened to be around and liked the singing. Others just because the Bible study happened to commence around the spot where they were sitting, and they were too lazy to leave. I tried to make it interactive and was time and again amazed by unexpected insights from perspectives I would otherwise not have heard.
On Friday, I was asked to come back and host the Bible study again after a good two years. These things depend on momentum, consistency, and rhythm, all which COVID robbed us of. It takes time for the guests at the shelter to get used to it and join again. I was shown to a recreational area with lounge chairs and a television. A scrawny man in his sixties was munching away on a bowl of Cereal. He wore a black leather jacket that seemed to be five sizes too big for him. As he put a spoon of cereal in his mouth, his eyes met everyone around him with an anxious look of suspicion. Mike, the director of SUMS, switched the television off and explained to the man that we are having a bible study. He barely showed any reaction. He took three more spoonfuls and then departed. Behind the lounge chairs people were busy on computers, uninterested in the planned study. Maurie, Mike’s dad who is a regular volunteer, joined us. It’s always a joy to have Maurie with us, but the thing is, he did not put his hearing aid in that morning and struggled to follow me without it. Mike had to run to a meeting and suggested that I just see who would show up and arrange with them that we meet next week.
Only one man showed up. A South Asian man. He did not quite look like the typical guest at this shelter looks. It has to do with the way he carried himself. He walked and sat more upright, was clean shaven and well dressed, even though he wore slippers. I smiled and welcomed him. Nobody else looked like they were heading our way. I prepared something, a short version of my Sunday sermon, and thought to myself, “I might as well do a quick devotion with the man and Maurie sitting next to me”. But, since the man sitting next to me spoke with a rather thick South Asian accent, I asked him if he was a Christian. The man told me he is of Hindu faith. “Great”, I thought to myself, “Only one person shows up for Bible study and he is Hindu. This sure is going to be a unique study”. I explained to him that I will read a short passage from the Bible and then we will discuss some questions. I made sure he was ok with it - I don’t like to trap people in something they didn’t sign up for. He did seem ok with it in a kind of neutral, “whatever” way.
I read John 13, where Jesus tells his disciples that He will be leaving and gives them a “new command”, to love one another. I start off by asking him what a threshold is. I explain how symbolically we cross thresholds and how that is not easy, even when we know we are heading to something good and better. I then explain to him that the Greek language has as much as 8 words for love and gives a summary of them. Storge, Ludus, Eros, Mania, Phileo…I explain to him Jesus chose the word Agape in this passage which is the highest form of self-sacrificial love. I explained how only Jesus really perfected that love but inspires and empowers us to strive towards it. The man, to my surprise, looked like he was following what I said. But it was still kind of awkward and I caught myself racing through my sermonette faster and faster. I got to the end and asked him if I may pray. I rambled off a quick prayer, neglecting to even ask for the man’s name so that I could pray for him personally.
When I opened my eyes, I was relieved that it was over, almost like how you feel when a stranger strikes up an awkward conversation with you in an elevator and the elevator opens at your floor. I sit a moment in silence with him. We make eye contact. I smile. “You spoke about unconditional love there, right?”, he asks. I nod. “Well, I think that is how a wife should love her husband and I wished my wife could have loved me like that. If she did, I would not be here now”. “Tell me your story”, I say.
The man told me that he has been living in a shelter for the past two weeks now and only one night in the current one. He explained that he had qualified to become a teacher in India, but his life took different turns than anticipated and he never used his certification, but he excelled at management in other areas.
He departed to join his family in Canada after they had become settled. By this time, his wife and her parents were adjusting well in Surrey. She had a good job and the daughter adjusted well to school. His wife’s expectation of him was to hit the ground running. At first, she was ok with him doing household chores and preparing the food while he found his feet, but soon she pressured him to find a job. He struggled to find one in education or retail management, the fields he liked most. The Canadians did not seem to recognize his expertise and experience. The tension is his marriage built up. His wife became cold and distant. “She changed” he repeated a phrase I heard so often from immigrant men. Eventually, the only job he did manage to find was in landscaping. He had no experience nor a passion for landscaping. The work was hard on his body and crushing to his soul. His salary was much less than his wife’s. He stuck it out for 5 months but then quit. He tells me he could not take it any longer and had become depressed.
One night after an angry fight the police showed up and took him away. He was released a few days later but his wife wouldn’t let him come home. He was suddenly, for the first time in his life, homeless and penniless. This is how he became a guest at the shelter.
He misses being able to provide and care for his daughter. I sit and I listen. I ask and I console. I offer no solutions but encourage him and point out what is good and hopeful in his actions. Before I know it, it is a full hour later and I have much to do. I glance at my watch, and he sees it. He asks me if I should go. I tell him yes. I tell him that my church and office is a few blocks away and that I walked to the shelter.
And then he asks me something that I did not expect. “Can I walk with you? Can you show me your church?”. “Sure”, I say. He asks me if I would be willing to wait five minutes so that he can dress up. I want to tell him he doesn’t have to. “Sure” I say. He comes out dressed like he is going to attend a service. We walk and suddenly it’s not heavy between us. We talk about cricket, and organizational health; all kinds of things I would never have thought we would have in common. We get to church, and I quickly show him around and I tell him about our services and celebrate recovery. I invite him to come visit me during office hours for a chat every week. He gladly accepts and then, totally mindful of my other priorities, greets me friendly and walks back to the shelter.
They say one should count and treasure conversations, not only conversions. I agree. This man isn’t a Christian. He might never come to my faith. I doubt if he will even show up Friday or Sunday. But this man has found in ol’ imperfect me a man that listened. Because Jesus lives in ol’ imperfect me, and through my rebellion I learned to allow Him to interrupt my all-important schedule.
Why he wanted to see my church baffles me. But maybe he wanted to see my church because he got a glimpse of my God and his unconditional love. I hope we can meet again.
In Christ
Gabriel J Snyman
