I'm riding up in an airport parking-garage elevator with a casually dressed, middle-aged man who is carrying a heavy cardboard box. Nothing about him commands my attention. But as he exits on his floor, something registers as the door begins to close. It's the label on his box: "Gideons International."
Ohmygosh, a Gideon. I've never seen one. Jamming the door open, I race after him. "Hey, wait - are you a Gideon?"He stops, blushes, smiles. "Yes."
I don't know what to say. I've caught a Ninja Warrior For Heaven at work.
Someone like him must have been in every hotel room I've ever occupied. Just leaving a book. Right there in the little drawer underneath the night stand beside the bed. The book is always there. A Gideon Bible.
The original Gideon was the chief of a small band of fighting men of the tribe of Manasseh, who led his clansmen into battle against the wicked Midianites and slayed them pretty thoroughly. That's according to the book of Judges - sixth and seventh chapters.
"No offense," I tell the nice man with the box, "but I know the story of the original Gideon, and frankly, you don't seem like the commando type to me."
And he's not. He's a salesman - commercial carpeting. A Christian, but not affiliated with any particular church because he's on the road all the time and really doesn't have much of a home base.
"Well, I'd like to know a little about the Gideons."
For the next half hour, we're there in the parking lot, leaning up against the fender of his Oldsmobile, talking history and religion. It wasn't his idea - he was pretty shy, actually - but he was willing to answer if I'd ask.
The modern Gideons were founded by two guys just like him. They were two traveling salesmen - lonely and tired - who met in a small hotel in Wisconsin in 1898. They found they had a common faith and common needs. The following July, they formed an association of Christian traveling men who would take advantage of their mobility to spread their faith - not as preachers or missionaries or evangelists in the usual sense.
Despite the warlike ways of their namesake, the Gideons' goal was simply seeing that the Bible was available in hotel rooms where traveling salesmen spent the night.
Almost 100 years later, there are more than 100,000 members worldwide in 150 countries. And they still do only what they set out to do - make the Bible available to anyone who needs it. Free. Though there is a paid administrative staff, all the distribution is done by members.
Almost 100,000 Bibles are shipped each day. Every 15 days, Gideons place or replace 1 million Bibles. Not only in overnight lodgings, but in hospitals, homeless shelters, parochial schools, jails and to the armed services.
The Gideons don't make a lot of noise or get much press. In a quiet, persistent way, they keep their faith. They know a lot of jokes are made about Gideon Bibles, but that doesn't bother them. Because they also know a lot of people have needed and used the life preserver they provide. The evidence is in the hundreds of thousands of grateful letters that come to them from believers and non-believers alike.
Contrast the Gideons' generous gesture with the rage, violence and militancy that are in current fashion in some religious circles. I wonder - what happened to bringing peace on Earth? But I have noticed that those who are really sure about something don't make a lot of noise about it. Nobody gets evangelical over whether the sun will rise tomorrow or not. Those who are most certain of their faith simply live it. The angry noisemakers stand on the thinnest ice.
With all the religious bombast and fierce fanaticism being spewed out over the cultural landscape, it's a relief to stand in a parking lot and talk with a graceful man who does not shame and damn and attack in the name of his faith. His way and the way of the Gideons is an old and better way to "walk humbly with thy God" and "love thy neighbor as thyself."