Entertaining angels

Rod Dreher has an interesting post (to me, anyway) up on his blog on the notion of entertaining angels. He relates a conversation he had earlier today with one of his parents' neighbors in Louisiana:

"There wasn't a soul to be seen anywhere," he said. "No trees, nothing, as far as they eye could see. I was all alone, eating my lunch. Suddenly, a man was standing behind me, and asked, 'Buddy, do you have something to eat?' I said sure, and gave him a sandwich and fruit. I asked him if he needed a ride somewhere, and he said no, he didn't need a ride. I turned and packed my things, and when I lifted my head, he was gone. I have no idea where he went. There were no other cars there, and no forest, no nothing.

"Ever since then," the neighbor continued, "whenever anybody asks me for money, I don't turn them down, no matter what. You never know. The Bible says sometimes we entertain angels unawares."

Anything like that ever happened to you? Me, no.

Maybe he hasn't, but I have, and it's probably time I set it down in writing and got it out in public. Some of my more secular friends may think I've gone off the edge, or turned into some kind of religious nut, but sometimes you have to stand up and say what you believe.

Here's the comment I left on Rod's blog (posted under my baptismal name, Lazarus). Make of it what you will:

Yes, I have had a similar experience, which led directly to my conversion to Orthodox Christianity.

For some time, I had been struggling with the decision to leave a religious group which I had joined several years earlier. I won't belabor the details, but there were several things troubling to me, and I had begun to seriously consider returning to Christianity.

On July 27, 2006, I had just returned from vacation, and had a few extra dollars left over in my pocket. I was out doing a bit of shopping, and was about to return home when I noticed a gray-haired woman of unusual dignity, dressed entirely in black, who was holding up a sign asking for money. She was standing at a side entrance to the shopping center where I was, at an almost unused exit. Her head was down, as if she was deeply ashamed to be begging, in contrast to the usual panhandlers that tend to congregate at the main entrance. She did not have the disheveled look of so many homeless, and she seemed rather out-of-place.

I sat there in my car for some time, watching as car after car drove past her. There was something compelling about her, a sense of a power that belied her apparent helplessness. At that moment, I heard a voice in my head that quoted something from the scriptures of the group I was struggling with leaving: "the most despised of men before God is he who sits and begs."

At that moment, I knew I was no longer a member of that group. My God does not despise anyone; my God is a God of infinite love and mercy. The decision whether to act was no longer mine; as if by someone else's volition, I started the car, drove over and handed her a $20 bill. She fixed me with a peculiarly direct look, smiling and saying, "God bless you," and I returned the sentiment. When, just a few moments later, I turned around to look at her again, she had vanished, seemingly into thin air, as if she had never existed. There is no way she could have walked or run that fast, and there was no vehicle anywhere near her.

I am convinced I had an encounter with an angel or a saint. I will not be at all surprised if someday I see her in an icon.