I heard recently that the intersection of the 405 freeway with the Santa Monica freeway west of Los Angeles is the busiest in the entire U.S. That didn’t surprise me at all. Even forty-five years ago, when I was commuting as a student to UCLA just north of there, it was crazy busy. (Goodness! Has it been that long?)
The all day bumper to bumper traffic on the 405 meant I had plenty of time in my little red Datsun 411 to talk with Leslie, my friend from high school who also commuted with me to UCLA. One thing I hadn’t talked with Leslie about, however, was my faith.
That bothered me. So I started praying that the Lord would open up an opportunity to do that. I had no idea how dramatically He would answer that prayer.
On this particular morning, we squirmed our way through the worst of the traffic at the aforementioned freeway intersection, passed the veteran’s cemetery on the right, and were almost to our exit on Sunset Blvd. when Leslie blurted out, “Herb, I’m the president of our youth group at my synagogue. Our meetings have been getting a little boring lately. I’m wondering if you might be interested in introducing me to some of your Christian friends and if you and they would come to our youth group and talk about Christianity.”
I was gobsmacked. My ’69 Datsun 411 was a cheap Japanese import, one of the first of many millions to come. But fortunately the gauge of steel they used on its floor was thick enough to keep me from falling through.
“Well, Leslie, I suppose I could do that,” I managed to blurt out.
Then I had an idea.
I had been attending a Wednesday evening Bible study just off campus from UCLA. It was at an old frat house that had been purchased by some Christians, who renamed it “The J. C. Light and Power Company.” Hal Lindsay, who had just published The Late, Great Planet Earth, a book on biblical prophecy that went on to become one of the best selling books of the ’70s, taught the Bible study.
It was a very large Bible study – maybe one hundred students from UCLA. It was so large that they had to remove all the furniture in the living room and den out into the backyard so everyone could sit on the floor. A man by the name of Bill started the meeting with a brief time of worship singing. Then Hal stood in the archway between the two packed rooms and taught.
I didn’t know Hal personally, but I did know Bill. As soon as Leslie invited me to his synagogue youth group, Bill came to my mind.
“You know,” I said to Leslie. “I attend a Bible study on Wednesday evenings. If you’d like to go with me, I have someone I’d like to introduce you to.”
Leslie said sure. So the following Wednesday evening we drove over the the J. C. Light and Power House, found a place on the floor in the living room, and sat through the Bible study. At the end of the study, I introduced Leslie to Bill, the song leader.
When Leslie invited him to talk about Christianity at his synagogue youth group, Bill’s eyes lit up.
“I have someone I’d like to introduce you to,” he replied to Leslie.
Then Bill took us over to Hal Lindsey and introduced him to the two of us. Leslie, who had no idea who Hal Lindsey was, proceeded to invite him to his synagogue youth group too.
Hal, of course, was elated and immediately accepted the invitation. We set a date and decided I would pick Hal and Bill up at the frat house and drive them over to the synagogue.
I knew I was in the middle of something very special, but I didn’t know how special until the appointed date arrived.
I picked Hal, Bill and a third man – all large framed men -up at the converted frat house. We drove over to the synagogue in Westchester packed into my tiny Datsun like sardines.
When we entered the youth group room at the synagogue, I made a horrifying discovery: there, along with the high school and college kids, were the synagogue Rabbi and my Hebrew professor from UCLA! I was horrified because I knew what was going to happen. They were going to speak to me in Hebrew!
I was taking my first year of modern conversational Hebrew at UCLA and I was struggling. I was the only Gentile in the entire class. All the other students were Jewish and had already learned a good amount of Hebrew in synagogue school (their version of Sunday School). I, on the other hand, could barely make out the Hebrew alphabet.
“Oh, Herb!” my professor exclaimed. “It’s so good to see you. Let me introduce you to our Rabbi.”
“Ma shemha?” He asked. (“What is your name?”)
I was so stunned by all of this, my mind went completely blank. I couldn’t think of what in the world he was asking.
My Hebrew professor’s face turned red. “Oh, Herb!” she exclaimed again, only in a quite different tone.
Fortunately, and to my amazement, the Rabbi and my professor left us alone with the youth in the room. But then things got even worse.
Leslie put us in four chairs in the middle of the room. The high school and college students – about thirty of them – clearly unhappy with us being there, besieged us around the perimeter of the room like Indians surrounding cowboys.
They all glared at us, some leaning back in their chairs with arms folded over their chests, others leaning forward with chins propped on top of clenched fists.
Leslie opened the meeting by asking one of them to pray.
“Dear Lord, help this meeting to be short. Amen.” he prayed, capturing the mood in the room.
Then Leslie turned to me and said, “Herb, why don’t you begin?”
His invitation really sounded like, “Herb, do you have any last words before my friends execute you?”
I don’t remember what I said. I spoke for a couple of minutes, maybe. Whatever it was, it fell to the floor about two inches in front of my toes and died right there. Finally, I gave up
Awkward silence followed. The starers retained their folded arms and chins on clenched fists.
But then Hal Lindsey began to speak. And what he spoke about was Israel’s place in prophecy. Yes, God still has a plan for the nation of Israel, Hal explained. This plan was clearly explained in the Hebrew Bible, he went on. And then Hal began to quote from their prophets; how Israel would be spread out among the Gentiles, but then be reconstituted as a nation. He talked about messianic prophecy and how Jesus’ first and second advents fulfilled, and will fulfill, those prophecies.
Hal spoke for about an hour. As he did, I witnessed something remarkable. The starers began to melt. The folded arms unfolded. The clenched fists unclenched. The glares turned to inquisitive looks. The students leaned forward in their chars, arms on knees, as if to take it all in. I could tell they had never heard this before.
When Hal finished, the students began to ask questions, one after another. The Q&A lasted another hour.
Finally, it was time to close. Leslie turned to the same guy who opened with a prayer for a short meeting – a request that had definitely not been answered – and asked him to close in prayer.
“Dear Lord,” he prayed, “I’ve really learned a lot this evening. And I’d like to learn a lot more. Amen.”
As I drove Hal, Bill and their friend back to The J. C. Light and Power House, I realized I had just witnessed God’s amazing work in response to a simple prayer: “Lord, give me an opportunity to share the gospel with Leslie.”
That lesson has gone with me throughout my life. I’ve seen it happen over and over: Make a simple request to the Lord that we know is in line with His will – “Lord, help me to share the gospel with this person clearly…”, “Lord, help me to love this person well…,” and God responds in ways that are never predictable and that always amaze.
This post first appeared in NewCommandment.org.
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