A Spiritual Chess Match at 37,00 Feet

His name was Igor, a Russian software developer from Atlanta, bound for St. Petersburg, Russia. The DC-10 was seating perhaps 100 passengers with vast stretches of empty seats, yet there we were squeezed side by side next to the window. At first I wanted to move across the isle, to stretch my cramped legs and enjoy some reading. I’m glad I didn’t. We started talking about the Hermitage museum, and particularly the enormous six by eight painting of the prodigal son on display there. It was easy to transition from that into faith. Igor told me he was Jewish, but that his faith had not been a central part of his life. Twenty-three years ago on his honeymoon, during a four-day train ride he had shared a car with an Orthodox priest, and had been intrigued and challenged by their long conversations. “This feels like that time,” he said, “only I see it much clearer now, the way you put things.”

It was as though time stood still, God melding our hearts together in a seamless stream of theological and cultural facts and anecdotes. At one point he asked me with a serious scowl, “why do Jewish people convert to Christianity?” I remember praying, O God how much better could you lead this discussion? The next hour was filled with animated gestures, sullied brow, anger and smiles of revelation. It felt like a chess match, and my Russian counterpart seemed to be always two or three steps ahead in trying to piece together this amazing story about Jesus. I had the chance to tell it in detail, from the cradle to the cross, and watched as God opened his mind and heart to the possibility that it all could be true. God forged a friendship in those hours, and as traffic at JFK backed up, and the flight was delayed on entry, I silently thanked God for the extra time to answer the myriad of questions he still clung to. Pulling up to the gate, we exchanged information, and plan to have dinner this spring when he comes to New York.