The Man in the Armani Suit

Finding a seat on the morning commuter train heading into the city is always a bit of a gamble. All the cars are usually full by the time they reach our station. There are no reserved seats, so it’s not possible to spend a little extra to ensure a comfortable commute. But occasionally, if one is lucky or happens to stand in front of someone who decides to get off somewhere along the way, one can nab a seat for at least part of the journey.

Today, however, Michael and I were not so fortunate. Shoulder-to-shoulder with the others, we set our backpacks onto the racks above and prepared to stand for the 20-minute ride to Yokohama. In front of us was a row of seats, packed to capacity with commuters who had managed to snag a spot.

I noticed one of the passengers sitting just to the side of where I was standing. He was clearly a businessman, as were many around him, wearing a perfectly respectable grey suit and blue tie. What caught my eye, though, was the Armani logo.

I don’t know much about fashion, and even less about suits, but Armani is not an inexpensive brand. Yet, whatever his suit suggested he might have been able to afford, here he was riding the public commuter train to work. I wondered if he did it every day and if I had seen him before and not noticed.

It struck me then how random it was that this man had happened to get a seat that morning. I thought of all the times I had managed to get one myself, yet here I was, standing in front of him, wearing jeans and a shirt that altogether likely cost less than his tie. But at the end of the day, it didn’t matter what we wore or how much we had paid. The process of getting a seat was the same for us both: get on and hope for the best.

Heaven is like that. It’s easy to look at what a person has and connect some kind of worth to them depending on what they’re able to afford. True, many things in life here on earth are made easier with money. But when it comes to salvation, the system is much the same as it is on the morning train. Money cannot buy a ticket into heaven, for the price has already been paid. One must simply accept the offer freely given and trust the Lord for the rest. But unlike the train, the seats aren’t limited, available only to a lucky few. There is a new robe of righteousness for all who will accept it, whether one starts out wearing jeans or an Armani suit.

To my knowledge, I have never seen that man again. But I do think of and pray for him often. Please join me in praying for all the people of Japan, that they will come to know the Lord who has paid the price for them.