Highways and Hedges

This morning I stopped at a gas station to fill up before heading to work. While I was pumping gas, I glanced around and saw a man sitting by his car. He was an older man, wearing a mask, and he had a small table set up with canisters on top. He waved, and we exchanged pleasantries, and while gas flowed briskly into my tank at nearly 3 dollars a gallon, I walked over to chat with him and see what his wares were. He had seasoning, mild and spicy, and cleaned catfish. I told him I was heading into work and didn't need to buy anything frozen, but he insisted I see the catfish. It was pretty, he said.

He popped the trunk of his car and opened a grimy cooler. Inside were zippered bags of frozen catfish. I ooohed and ahhed admiringly. It was, indeed, pretty catfish, and the price was very reasonable. I told him again, though, that I was heading away from home, so I couldn't get anything that needed refrigeration. We are in the middle of Southern summer, after all. I asked when he would be back at the station. Being unsure of his schedule, he told me he would give me his number. He reached into a small plastic sandwich container and pulled out what I thought would be a business card. Instead, it turned out to be a neatly handwritten note on a piece of precisely trimmed copy paper. It contained his name, number, and the fact that he also sold sweet potatoes.

Now it was time for the seasoning. The man sprinkled some of the stuff in my hand so that I could taste it. Both kinds. If I had been watching this scene on television, I would have yelled at the tv, telling the character not to do it. "You don't know what is in that!" I would say. "He may be trying to knock you out and put you in the trunk with the catfish!" I would scream at the tv. But, face to masked face with the gentleman, I, of course, tasted both the mild and the spicy seasoning and ended up buying one container of each.

I didn't need the seasoning. I have enough Cajun seasoning at home to choke a gator. And, y'all need to know this, I very rarely cook. But I felt compelled to buy. I don't know if it was his friendly manner or because I wondered why this man sat in the heat at a gas station selling condiments and catfish. He'd told me he was retired. Was he trying to make ends meet? Probably. I could help, so I did.  And now I have extra seasoning just in case I need to help prepare mild and spicy versions of enough food to feed my community. I wonder how many people passed him by just that day. Did he have to take any catfish home? Did other people stock their cabinets as I did? 

Then the master said to the servant, 'Go out into the highways and hedges, and compel them to come in, that my house may be filled.’

Luke 14:23

In one of the New Testament parables, Jesus tells of a man who hosted a banquet, yet none of the people he invited would come. For one reason or another, they all had excuses of things that took up their time. Disappointed and still wanting to share this blessing with people, he sent the servants to find people who would come. He sent them first into the streets, and they found some people to come. Still, there was more room, so the host sent them out again, this time to beat the highways and the hedges, looking for people to come to enjoy the feast. These people were there all the time, but the servants didn't see them at first.  

Do we see those around us? Not just the ones at the gas station or the peanut stand, but those in the "highways and hedges" who need to be called to the feast of the Lord. They may be our neighbors, coworkers, or friends. Sometimes they don't know there is a feast. Sometimes we don't think to invite them. Sometimes we don't see them because we are too distracted. But God has prepared a feast for those who will believe in Him and in His grace and love. And, I'll bet He serves some pretty catfish, both mild and spicy.