Olive Garden A.K.A. Mission Field

There is a reason I tend to frequent the same restaurants—they have become opportunities to share Christ with the wait staff. By returning to the same “mission field,” I am able to develop relationships and continue conversations previously begun.

Once again, this was evidenced yesterday when my wife, Betsy, and I ate lunch at our local Olive Garden.

Soon after being seated, Mario, our waiter, approached our table with great enthusiasm. A very gregarious, twenty-something year old, he immediately recognized us from a previous visit and greeted us saying, “I’ve waited on you before, haven’t I?”

“I do remember you, Mario!” I replied quickly (not wanting to dampen his enthusiasm—I was quite hungry and was hoping the same level of enthusiasm would help ensure a quick return of salad and breadsticks!). “It’s good to see you again. How have you been?”

With the proper exchange of introductory niceties completed, we ordered our meal and Mario left to manage his other tables. Little did we know that the initial greetings were simply to serve as preface to a much more important conversation toward the end of our meal.

As Betsy and I were approaching the end of our ability to do anything more with the abundant supply of soup, salad and breadsticks, Mario approached our table for a near-final check. With his typical enthusiasm, he stepped up, gave a moment’s pause, and commented, “You know, I always enjoy waiting on both of you! I feel such ‘positive energy;’ you both are so nice!”

It was with this remark I realized a response was due from me…at least eventually. Given the fact that the “positive energy” Mario sensed was the presence of God’s Spirit, I have always felt it important to give credit where credit is due. So, at first, I simply thanked him for the complement and prayed that God might grant me both the wisdom and words to take the next step.

The “next step” came just a few minutes later as Mario brought us our bill. As I returned the bill with payment, I handed him a tract I often carry with me for such purposes: Connecting with God (published by Campus Crusade for Christ). “Mario, have I ever given one of these to you before?” I queried.

“No, I don’t think so,” Mario responded politely as he curiously glanced at the small booklet.

“Well,” I continued, “let me explain, then, what it is about. I would like to suggest there are two fundamental questions in life which everyone addresses at one time or another: ‘Is there a God?’ and, if there is a God, ‘Is He knowable; can one have contact and/or communication with Him?’ What do you think?”

As I suggested the questions, Mario was nodding his head in semi-agreement. As I asked him his opinion, he explained: “Yes, I think there is something out there. When I am outside and look around I know there must be a god.”

Recently I’ve been reading a book by the late Dr. Francis Schaeffer, The God Who is There (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1968). He drills in on the importance of clearly defining words with heavily-laden connotative meaning—otherwise one may find him or herself involved in a monologue with another individual rather than in true dialog (where both parties understand the “language” the other is using). How important that caution in twenty-first century American culture!

I didn’t want to be guilty of assuming that Mario’s understanding of “god” was the same as mine, so I probed a bit deeper. “So, Mario, you think that ‘god’ is more like a ‘god force’ than a personal God? Would that be correct?”

Mario nodded in agreement as he replied simply, “Yes, I guess so.”

I felt it important at this juncture to move Mario away from the “god-force” concept of God and suggest the possibility of God being personal in nature. How could I introduce the concept of a “personal relationship” with an impersonal “god force?”

So I moved forward in this vein. “Mario, when I look at the world around me with its incredible complexity and personality—when it comes to humans—I find it difficult to buy into the idea that we are here simply by chance.”

I had hardly finished my sentence—and definitely did not have the opportunity to explain my reasoning a bit more fully—when Mario quickly blurted out: “Oh, I know we aren’t here by chance! There is far too much complexity in this world! When I was younger [I’m guessing his late, teenage years for he is no older than his early twenties!], I thought I was an atheist—which didn’t make my mom, who studied to be a nun, feel too good—but now I know there is a God.”

Rather than probe any deeper, however, I decided to continue with a third question I often ask if the situation seems appropriate. It was rather obvious that Mario didn’t have a well-constructed understanding of God…which really isn’t than unusual in 21st century Western culture. So, to continue probing hoping to discover more of Mario’s view on God seemed a bit pointless.

Thus, I now moved to see what he knew about Jesus. “Mario, if I may, let me ask you, have you ever investigated—looked closely at—the claims of Jesus Christ and what role He said He played in knowing God?” Though Mario had, during the course of our conversation, suggested he had looked at a number of the world’s religions, he answered in the negative to my question; he did not consider himself as having seriously evaluated the claims of Jesus.

“Mario,” I continued, “this booklet contains some of the claims Jesus made. And, if what Jesus said is true, then He came to provide the means for you and me to know God…at His expense. Would you mind if I left this with you so we can talk about it on our next visit?”

By this point, Mario had knelt down beside our table and was looking at the booklet as I was given the additional explanation. His body language was indicative of one who was truly interested in the conversation we were having—not one simply trying to placate another customer.

“Yes, I would like that very much,” was his earnest and straightforward reply. “I will look forward to seeing both of you next time.”

As Betsy and I left the Olive Garden, both of us knew that God had planned a lunch appointment we had not scheduled. But then, again, isn’t that what the Sovereign—yet personal—Just, yet redemption-providing—God should do?