The Church Bus

He isn’t the first, and probably won’t be last. Blown in from the briny ocean, cod cheeks and hard tack, his eyes were lifted up and his heart filled with the bright hopes of the big buck. So here he came from the top of the rock to rock bottom. His hopes weren’t the only things dashed upon the rocks; his relationships were also floundering. Clinging to the lifeline of security were three children hoping against hope that this rope which they clung to was anchored to something. . .

It was tied to something. Not the rock - but the bottle. Not the Saviour - but the suds. Even though on the main land, he had the shifting, bragging heart of a sailor and the only place that would resemble home and the sea was the Great Lakes.

The jig "What do you do with a drunken sailor? You get him to church and get him saved." should have happened but it hadn't. Into this tempestuous, sin driven life, rolled the church bus. Its blue and white paint announced the church. The chipped and rusted vehicle was in no way any indication of the worker’s hearts. The shaky rumbling, rusted bucket of bolts stood in sharp contrast to the unshaking, redeemed and renewed lives of the bus workers.

On Saturday morning, over the blaring noise of Bugs Bunny, the smell of good strong coffee, and bacon and eggs frying in the pan, came a timid knock. The kids slowly unlocked the door and cracked it open.

"Hi," said a shaky voice, "I’m from the church. We have a big blue and white bus that comes around on Sunday mornings to pick up boys and girls, just like you, for Sunday School. Would you like to come?" The lady at the door handed the children a leaflet telling them the time of the pick up and who to call if they wanted to ride the bus.

With a booming voice, the sailor yelled, "Who is it?"

The kids just stood there, staring in silence at the person at the door. Finally one of them piped up, as Dad moved closer to the living room, "I-i-i-it’s a lady from the church. Sh-sh-she wants us to ride the bus to S-s-sunday School."

By now the sailor had made it to the door. It was obvious that there was too much party, and not enough sleep, the night before. He read the leaflet. He hadn’t said no, the kids were starting to get hopeful. He thought, "Sunday morning, peace and quiet with a strong cup of coffee, I might even be able to make it through the day."

Striking up the chord of a confident braggart, "Sure! Sure! They can go. After all, I went to Sunday School back home in Newfoundland. Didn’t do me no harm." So thus began the exciting adventure of the Church Bus.

To encourage the children, look for more riders, and to see the lost saved, the bus workers would visit each home every week. It was on one of these eventful Saturday mornings that -THE KNOCK CAME!

The kids bolted to the door, as Wile E. Coyote fell to his demise for the fourteenth time. Over the tumult of the household, in came the faithful bus workers for their weekly visit.

The kids were excited about Sunday School and Jesus, but Hangover Henry was trying to make a hasty exit out the backdoor. He was planning on taking the stack of empties back for a refund. He only wanted to make one trip to the beer store, but the trunk was already half full, and the stack in the kitchen was still piled high. the bus worker saw him struggling with the closed door and the armful of cases of brown bottles.

"Here let me help." The bus worker held the door open then to the sailor's amazement, the bus worker even picked up a couple of cases of empties and helped load them into the car.

And there standing in track pants, T-shirt and runners, the sailor began to hear about a Saviour. The more they talked, the clearer the picture became. the Spirit-filled Christian painted a word-picture of a life tossed to and fro by the winds and waves of sin, thinking that he was securely moored to the pier, only to find that he was adrift in the open sea without a motor.

But the lighthouse of God’s Word, the anchor of God’s grace, the mercy of the Captain, and the ropes of truth and love that holds securely in any wind stuck fast in the mind of this one who has moved from the port.

After a lengthy visit in the cool morning air, the bus worker heard some news that made his heart skip a beat. "Buddy," the sailor said, "my kids won’t be riding the bus tomorrow. I’m going to be driving them myself. I’ve been watching them, and since they started to Sunday School they’ve changed. I’ve been giving it some thought and like I said, I used to go to Sunday School and it did me no harm. Maybe it’s time to go back."

Sure to his word, the sailor, his wife and kids were in Sunday School the next day, and there they found the Wonderful Counsellor, the Prince of Peace, Almighty God and the Everlasting Father, the Captain of their Salvation.

Why the change? What was it attributed to? The mercy of God, faithful workers and.... the Church Bus.

Jesus said, "If you have done it unto the least of these you have done it unto me."


What happened to the sailor and his family. The church accepted them. They grew in knowledge and understanding of God. Then he became the director of the bus ministry, and he was a great director. But then, he knew what the Church Bus meant to him.

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© Joel Heimbecker, 1995