Have you ever felt that God puts people in your path for a reason, even if you don’t know why? A forgotten friend calls. A long-lost relative returns. A stranger in need crosses your path. Or you are in need and a stranger crosses your path.
I’ve experienced someone I offended years ago suddenly appearing out of nowhere… and I know what that means. Even though I want to run and hide, it’s time for a long overdue apology and reconciliation. It all happens in God’s perfect time.
And then the other day I got this call from my old college roommate Lenny, who I hadn’t seen in decades. When you get calls like that, there are two possibilities: someone needs something or God is at work. Often it’s both.
We were college students in New York City during the Vietnam War. A pretty odd couple. He was from the Congo and I was from a place called Pine Rock Park in Shelton.
As different as our backgrounds were, we had some things in common. We both smoked, we both drank, we both liked to party, and we both pretended to be intellectuals by carrying around books by Friedrich Nietzsche, Albert Camus, and every nihilist in vogue.
I’ve found that at these meetings, people generally talk about the past and the present, and then come to the conclusion that the only things they have in common are back pain, thinning hair, and the high cost of prescription drugs… and maybe, hopefully, Jesus.
In the years that followed, Lenny became a new man, not in the way Nietzsche described, but in the way St. Paul did, as someone who put on Christ.
After some Google searches, I found that he had taught at two Christian universities for 40 years and had given a lecture at the University of Notre Dame on the Rwandan genocide because he is a Tutsi, the ethnic minority whose genocide killed a million people in 1994. He also had a podcast on Bible study.
Thankfully, when we met again on the phone – he on the West Coast and I on the East Coast – it wasn’t the usual litany of suffering or recounting our lives. Instead, it was about our faith journeys. During those decades of separation, Christ had come into our lives at different times and in different ways. And that made all the difference. Wouldn’t you rather talk about Jesus than the latest promotion or the presidential election?
His story gave me hope because I have many friends and family members who have not yet found Christ. Some are still searching. Others never started because they are chasing the false gods of success, possessions, pleasure and prestige. The older you get, the more you realize how little they ultimately mean.
Lenny did not return to Congo. He studied economics and had a promising career in a large company until he reached the point that many people never reach and began to wonder, “Is this all there is?” So he prayed for an answer. The wonderful thing is that when you pray for answers, you get answers. God never disappoints.
One day, while walking alone on the beach in Florida, three missionaries approached him and began to talk about Jesus. He had always enjoyed philosophical discussions, so he joined in. A day later, they took him to a church service and prayed for him, and nothing was the same. God kept sending people in his path who led him where he was supposed to go, in his career and in his spiritual life.
He holds a PhD in philosophy and taught at two Christian universities, raised a family, lectured, and is now in early retirement. But our discussion did not end there. The discussion never ends when you have Christ in common, because there is always a future, and it is a glorious future full of hope. Moreover, no matter how old you are, Jesus will not let you retire as long as there is still work to be done.
Yes, old friendships are renewed because Christ makes all things new. We both agreed that after so many years apart, we would rather talk about Christ than inflation, climate change, the Yankees, the Mets—whatever—because Jesus can revive old friendships in new and meaningful ways.
