I was doing some work in Panera the other morning, and I spied this sign on a table across from mine. I had to ask about it, and I ended up having an enjoyable conversation with the man. Jon the realtor was trying to generate some business, but Sharon and I weren’t looking to sell or buy a house, so he and I talked about our backgrounds and current ventures. But the main thing was the sign, which set my imagination in gear. 

I thought first about the Peanuts cartoon image of Lucy Van Pelt sitting in a booth emblazoned with the words “PSYCHIATRIC HELP 5 Cents: THE DOCTOR IS IN.” (By the way, try to type the symbol for ‘cents’ on a Mac, and then get back to me if you succeed.) But then I moved on to my own possibilities:

BIBLE QUESTIONS? THE MINISTER IS IN

DIALOGICAL WORKOUT? THE PHILOSOPHER IS IN

(And in this latter mode, I envision something more edifying than what we saw in the Monty Python “Argument Clinic” with Michael Palin and John Cleese.

I’m not seriously considering a Panera setup, but I’ve done other awkward things, including handing out gospel tracts while wearing a sandwich board on a Windsor, Ontario, sidewalk.

Not so awkward is something I saw an old Ouachita classmate and longtime friend Jim Elliff do in Indianapolis. Through his ministry, Christian Communicators Worldwide, Jim would speak in churches all over creation, and one week he came to Indianapolis, where I was working for the State Convention of Baptists in Indiana. In advance of his coming to our fair city, he asked church members to consider inviting fellow workers to a sandwich lunch in their break space, an around-the-table gathering where he would pick up on questions submitted in advance on any topic they might choose—from preferred Bible translations to apologetical issues to doctrinal matters to advice on raising kids. Jim did a great job, and it gave the laity an opportunity to bring the Word of God into their secular settings, to draw colleagues to the church’s meetings, and to open doors for further witness. I think that in this instance, we met at an insurance agency, with six or seven of us seated in a circle.

As I’ve been typing this, two gratifying conversations touching on the gospel have eventuated, and without the sign. Sharon and I have been stuck in an airport for about eight hours. Our SWA flight was due to leave at mid-afternoon, and now it’s going out around midnight. The problem’s been an “active shooter event” at Love Field in Dallas, home base for Southwest Airlines. From what I read on line, a woman entered the terminal with a pistol and fired shots into the ceiling near the ticket counters. She was shouting something angry about her husband, so somebody wounded her and they took her into to custody (and to the hospital). It was enough to put the airport into some sort of paralysis and security reboot, and it put the SWA system into chaos. Very annoying. (And thank you, dear, for venting in this fashion, to the great inconvenience of scads of people. Very thoughtful of you.) When our plane finally arrived  (supposedly) around supper time, the Southwest gate agent cranked up a bubble machine and a cheer went up from the Nashville-bound hopefuls. But within minutes, they told us that the pilots had “timed out,” and we wouldn’t have a fresh crew for hours more. Still, for us Christians, “all things work together for good,” and so it has for us. 

A quick word re the conversations at a table we managed to occupy in the middle of the concourse near our (alleged) gate. One was with an East Coast executive and his wife down South to look for retirement property. The other was with a young recruit who had to drop out of boot camp because of an injury requiring surgery. I won’t go into detail except to say that I got to talk plainly about my faith and, in the recruit’s case, to hear his own testimony. In each, case I’m sending a follow-up copy of one of my books which picks up on interests they expressed. 

All told, I’ve had about two hours of conversation as a form of outreach/ministry which I wouldn’t have had without the delay. And this without a sign.

But who knows, I may pick up on the realtor’s lead.