Last Sunday I had lunch with a couple of friends at a Greek Restaurant. I stress the word Greek, you'll find out why in a bit. The food was good, the company was good and as I left the diner I approached the reception desk and gave the waiter a tract. What is it? He questioned. The Word of God I replied. At the mention of God, he freaked out. I don't want to hear anything about him, he said. One day you will have to give him an account of yourself, I replied. At this, the guy was furious. I do not want to listen to religion when the priest refused to bury my two-month old baby because he had not been baptized. I had to bury my baby like a dog. My son would have been twenty one years old by now. Please listen to me, I insisted. Your baby is in heaven. All babies go to heaven, sin is not imputed where there is no law, the Bible says. No. The Greek Orthodox priest refused to bury my baby, insisted the man, and I buried my baby like a dog. The man was jumping up and down as though he was in a frying pan. One day, I will sit with Jesus and sip a glass of beer with him, he raved on. This is blasphemy, I said, and if you don't repent of these words, you know where you will end up? In hell, was the reply. That's right, I responded and you will never get to see your two months old baby because he is in heaven and you won't be there. By now I was following him around the desk because he was trying to run away from me, and yet when I'd beg him to calm down, he would stand still for a second and then flare up again. A crowd and other waiters stood watching. Look, I said, I come from Greek Orthodox background, and the Greek Orthodox church (and others) does not teach the truth and the word of God. That is why I converted to a Bible Believing Christian. My baby had a dog's funeral he kept repeating. I repeated that what happened to him was the wrong doing of the Greek Orthodox Church. Are you Greek, he asked? No, I said but my pastor is and he teaches the King James Bible. As soon as the fellow heard me mention the KJV he was up in arms one more time. He started cursing again. At that point, I decided it was better to leave.
As I reflect on the incident I feel broken hearted. Twenty one years later, the man had not forgotten. TWENTY ONE years ago, it still hurt. Seriously, the man was burnt. He was jumping as though he was in a frying pan. The pain was too much to bear. I never got the name of the fellow, but to think that some priest refused to give his baby a semblance of a church funeral is outrageous. Those false shepherds will stand before God one day. How can they explain this kind of behaviour beats the life out of me. It was hard for me to bring him down to sanity when I spoke. I did leave the tract on the front desk and by the time I left it was still there. He did not throw it in the garbage. Pls. pray for that fellow. May be the Lord would soften his heart and use that tract to talk to his heart and assure him of his love and that there is hope in Jesus Christ who loved us and died and rose again to give us eternal life.