(Luke 1:76-80)
YEARS AGO I STOOD beneath the light of judgement at a dealership work bench. I had worked that morning with my hands deep within a sinful looking, burned up Chevrolet Turbo 350 transmission case. The oil inside it was turned to a greasy brown sludge when the car had been rocked to get free from mud. I'd pulled the smoked unit from the car in the late evening the night before, and put it on the bench. The replacement high performance clutch discs sat all night in fresh tranny oil. While rebuilding the forward clutch pack the following morning, I thought I'd asked my buddy a normal question for the coming season. I turned to Aaron, the mechanic working next to me, and said... "What are you doing this Christmas?"
I knew that Aaron went to church regularly. And I knew that just as I had planned to go home and put up the tree to celebrate the holiday, Aaron would be knee deep in the religious ceremonies of his church. Aaron was an avid churchgoer and the church where he attended services was noted for its outside, live Christmas Nativity scene. Each year they would faithfully stage the pageant.
I was just trying to pass the time as I worked, but when I asked the question what I did not know was that Aaron was a different sort of Christian. The idea that this mechanic standing next to me, soiled up to his elbows in automobile undercoating. . . was especially gifted by God, somehow had not occurred to me.
His gift was this. . . Aaron was a Pentecostal evangelist. And though my mother sometimes attended what I called a Spirit-filled Pentecostal church in West Virginia, Aaron could do something about which many could only marvel. He could speak in a special spiritual language. Aaron would call it "speaking in tongues."
A mechanic in his early fifties in age, Aaron just smiled knowingly at my light conversational question and said... "I think I'll go to church with my family. . , he smiled, "after all it is the Christmas season." Then he aimed his vehicle undercoating pistol right at me!
"Are you going?" he asked.
I looked at his tar and feathers facial expression and stood there a bit surprised by the query. Because I knew of his special speech abilities, I'd never spoken with him about religion. I'd always avoided the subject because I didn't understand his fervor for church, nor this "speaking in tongues" thing. I had never known anyone who could belt out this strange phenomenon. I'd barely even heard of it.
So I just stammered... "N..N..No, I haven't gone to church in years."
Then Aaron grinned his special grin again. I thought he was toying with me. I thought he was pulling my leg when he asked the next question, leading me into some sort of joke. You see, Aaron loved to play pranks. . , like the time he wired my vise grip handle down through a gap in work bench boards, fastened tightly so I couldn't pick the tool up.
"You are a Christian, aren't you?' he challenged.
I thought for a second, then said, "Yep, I was baptized into the Methodist church when I was just twelve years old."
He looked up from connecting the gun to the air nozzle coupling that he held in his hand. "You should go there to thank God for Jesus then. Wasn't he the child who was born to save you from your sins?"
As he finished speaking, he started to again spray the underside of the Camaro that he stood beneath. He then stopped and continued, "He was born as a child in Bethlehem just so the Spirit could cover up your weakspots, just like I'm doing to this car."
I tried to be tactful, and ward off my feelings of religious inadequacy.
"But, you're a different sort of Christian than I am used to seeing in church." I said, while wiping transmission fluid from my hands using a shop towel.
"You're probably right, but I am a Christian through and through! I'm what my church heritage calls a prophet."
I stood caught off-guard by that announcement. I thought to myself a minute before asking. . , "Is that possible? Aren't the prophets old guys that would run around warning folks before Jesus came along?"
"Yes. . , but at our church we believe there are still prophets of God in the world. Some prophets speak and anyone can hear. However, other times prophets can speak and only some folks can hear. When I speak in tongues the Spirit just brings the message out and I can't tell who it is that the words are meant to reach, and often what I say is in a language I can't even understand. You see.., I just talk the talk. God determines who it is that hears, who can understand, and who will pay attention to the prophecy."
I removed the low/reverse clutch from the transmission case, and thought about what he'd said.
"Wow. . , that is a bit different." I piped quietly.
Then Aaron said something that startled me a bit.
“Then I turned to see the voice that was speaking to me, and on turning I saw seven golden lamp stands. . .” (Rev 1:12)
"I'm now going to speak prophetically to you right now. I say you will be in God's church this Christmas Eve, and you will never leave. In the coming years, people will not treat you the same way. Some will say that you've been out in the water too long, and have gone off the deep end. But you will be a new creation."
I put the transmission center-support and its snap ring back in place. Then I looked up from the transmission case at him, not quite knowing whether he was kidding me or not. "I've never heard of such a thing." I said.
"I'll tell you what. If you don't believe me. . , I’ll give you this challenge. Why don't you folks come to church with my family on Christmas Eve. It's not far from here. You'll meet my wife and kids."
I returned, "I've not been in church in years."
"That's no excuse, brother," he said. "Remember. . . some will hear, some will understand, and some will pay attention. But decide the truth of what I say by coming to church with me."
So I thought about it a bit and I then planned to go to church with Aaron, maybe a little out of curiosity. And afterward, being touched in my depths by the good Christmas news that I heard there, I began to talk about my lapsed faith with friends and family. Some of them reacted oddly, and began to avoid conversations. . . and failed to stay in close company.
Eventually, I found I couldn't even work a full day without wondering about what God wanted me to do with this new grant on life. It was like getting a blank shop work order, and you'd been paid handsomely even before the work started!
Aaron worked beside me through this personal faith walk. One morning he just said, "I'm sorry that you may feel like your losing your pressure regulator spring tension sometimes. But now you know the truth." He snickered a bit then, like he knew a secret, just as he did when he'd jokingly sent me to the parts department to get an exhaust smoke shifter.
Then he looked at me with serious note. "Don't waste the power of your baptism by looking back. God has set you aside as his own."
I remember that on a morning soon to follow he wiped his wrenches with a shop towel, and said. "I'm ready for the next wheel alignment victim, but I think I can help you out first. We can go to the deli for lunch and I can set you straight. . . and talk about Jesus. We can talk about what Christmas really means."
Now, many years of ministry have passed since those lunchtime deli conversations occurred between us, but I still think about that prophet and his message. I think about the message meant especially for me and how God brought me back to his house. I think now that Aaron's message was simple. . , "At the first Christmas, God gave his only Son to save us. . , and we should celebrate this special gift by telling others."
I pray that I will once again be in church on Christmas Eve, and I ask you, "Will you go to church to celebrate our Lord's Christmas gift?" And even more so I ask, "Who will you invite to go along with you?" Just maybe you can be a little bit prophetic, and ask the person that works right next to you.
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