The flight from Salt Lake City to Chicago was full— of both passengers and stress. We were quite late in departing, many overheads bins were off-limits, due to being full of ski gear. For a while we idled on the tarmac with no heat. There were gripes enough that everyone could latch on to the stressor of their choice.
But for me, this flight brought the rare joy of getting bumped to First Class. The man beside me, however, was not a happy traveler. Besides the delays, my neighbor was angry about the meal offered in First Class. “You call this food?” he asked. Then he loudly announced, “I wouldn’t feed this to a dog!”
His increasing anger— and vitriol leveled at the cabin’s two servers— made everyone uncomfortable. One of the attendants, patiently offering the man every conceivable food or drink option, was rebuffed numerous times. “I paid for First Class,” he barked. “Get some decent food on the plane, for God’s sake!”
Everyone else in the cabin (myself included) tried to compensate by smiling and profusely thanking the attendants. But it seemed the harder they tried, the more abusive the man became. I spent the majority of the flight praying— praying for the angry businessman and for the beleaguered attendants.
“Angry flyer in First” looked the part of a quintessential “important businessman.” Monogrammed cuffs, cufflinks, and a Rolex peaked out of from the sleeves of his finely-tailored blazer. “In-flight entertainment” for the rest of us consisted of hearing his curt remarks to the attendants and noisy “harrumphs” as he read from a stack of papers.
Even before my seat mate began his altercations with the First Class cabin attendants, the man reminded me of a grumpy character I had seen on several classic, black-and-white TV reruns. The famed, “Man In A Hurry.”
Doppelganger from Vintage TV
A beloved episode of The Andy Griffith Show is, “Man In A Hurry.” The plot involves a businessman rushing to get through Mayberry, but who is stranded there with car problems. (Many story lines in this classic program pitted fast paced, “big city” culture against the simple pleasures of hometown America).
Initially stressing over waiting around in this “backwoods ‘burg” as the car gets repaired, the man gradually realizes the tranquility of Mayberry is appealing. When the car is fixed and he may finally leave, the man finds himself wishing to stay. The half-hour “TAGS” (as fans call it) were equal parts comedy, ocaisional poignancy, and not-at-all-preachy morality plays. The show portrayed cultural, familial, and spiritual values that were beginning to erode even as the original episodes were first airing.
“Man In A Hurry” concludes with an emotional punch as the alpha businessman longs for the contentment he sees in the families and neighbors of Mayberry. We don’t get much backstory on the stranded motorist from the city. But making his exit, he emotionally thanks them for, “reminding me of some important things I’d forgotten.”
God’s Holy Spirit at work
Arriving in O’Hare airport in Chicago, I noticed that “grumpy businessman” didn’t de-plane as the rest of we passengers hurried to exit. For whatever reason, he sat while everyone else left, and I remember thinking I’d pray for him one last time: “Lord, please bring some joy to this man’s heart, and help him with whatever he’s dealing with . . .”
A while later, rushing through the airport, I saw the flight attendant who had been the primary recipient of the businessman’s vitriol. “Excuse me,” I began. “You handled that guy so graciously. I’m sorry for the way he acted.”
Saying nothing, the woman just kind of stared at me. “I think several of us were praying for you,” I offered. “And for him.”
The flight attendant’s eyes began to glisten with tears. She glanced left and right, her demeanor somewhat nervous, somewhat weary: “He was . . . a very mean traveler,” she whispered. “But you’ll never guess what happened.”
I half assumed she was going to tell me of some further altercation after the rest of us had
left the plane. But I was wrong.
“Did you see that he stayed seated while everyone exited?” she asked. “Yes,” I replied. “I noticed that.
This beleaguered, “server of the skies” explained that the man called the two attendants to himself and . . . profusely apologized. “We were kind of speechless,” she said. “Everyone was off, and the man just begged our forgiveness.”
She explained that the man confided he was under much stress about some issues, and that
he was sorry for his treatment of the flight attendants. “I have no excuse,” he told them. “But please forgive me.”
They all hugged, went their ways, and an otherwise unpleasant trip had a surprisingly pleasant conclusion. I am convinced that a number of us in First had been praying for that man. And I believe that God’s Holy Spirit and those prayers prompted his amends.
It did not surprise me that the flight attendant— who had graciously endured his treatment during the flight— was quick to accept his apology afterward. A small cross emblem was
pinned to her uniform, so I assumed she was a believer. But her actions were the most
vivid Christian witness of all.
Proverbs 19:11 tells us that, “it is a glory to forgive an offense.” Just as God forgives us, we should be quick to forgive others. Better yet (and I am preaching at myself, here), we should
live so that no offense is displayed in the first place.
“Dear Lord, help us all to be kind to one another!”
Are you looking to deepen your prayer life and connect with others in meaningful, timely, and relevant prayer? Opt-in to receive our weekly United in Prayer email, where you’ll find succinct teachings about prayer and specific prayer requests that matter in today’s world. Click here to learn more.