The Least of These

Have you ever looked at a small child passing you by and wondered about them?  Who they were, where they lived?  Are they happy, fed, warm and clothed?

How about the homeless man on the corner?  The one who wreaks of alcohol, or maybe is even missing a limb or two from a wartime injury?

And what about the single mom?  You know the one--she has way too many children and doesn't keep them very clean.  What about her?

I think about these people all the time.  Our pastor even preached about them this past Sunday.  He taught on Matthew 25.  It's one of my top favorite passages in the Bible.  Why?  Well, because I can relate to a few of the scenarios mentioned in that passage.  It was a difficult time of life for me.  I was just old enough to be embarrassed, but too young to understand what exactly was going on.  And without saying too much, without sharing things about my childhood that my parents might not appreciate me sharing--I'll just talk about how I felt, because I was one of those--the least of these.

I was afraid.  I was little--under 8 years of age.  I was hungry.  Many nights.  Right now I am wondering how much to share, what do I say exactly.  My father had lost his job, we had very little food, so, we ate very little.  My stomach would growl after I was tucked into bed.  There wasn't much left in the cupboards.  So I didn't complain.  My parents were new Christians.  We prayed.  We prayed a lot.  We needed God to meet our needs.  We needed food.  Every morning my mom would make us oatmeal and for lunch she would pack us up a peanut butter and jelly sandwich along with some carrot sticks.  And for dinner we'd have spaghetti.  This went on for a year or more.  I know this is going to sound weird, but to this day, I cannot eat those foods.  I can feel myself begin to gag, and it brings back some painful memories, so I avoid them.

I was also cold.  Thankfully we lived in California, but believe me it still would get down into the 30's at night in the winter.  One year the electric company had cut off our heat, so we all huddled together in our tiny little living room in front of the fireplace, trying to keep warm.  No electricity meant no lights, so my father would fire up the camping lantern--that thing scared me.  We were told not to get near it, because if we knocked it over it could start a fire.  I was convinced that someone was going to do just that and I worried enough for our entire family.  I had nightmares about our house catching fire for years after that.

And water?  Well, that was turned off too.  No money to pay the bills.  Our kind neighbor next door ran her garden hose through our kitchen window so that we could have running water.  I was 6 years old that year, and was feeling my first tinges of humiliation.  We were poor, dirt poor.  We weren't homeless--yet.  But almost.  My parents had also lost their car.  No heat, lights, water, car or food--not quite homeless--yet.

So yes, when I read Matthew 25, when I hear someone preach from that part of the Bible, my mind goes back in time to a place that I'd rather forget about.  I wonder if my parents even realize just how much I do remember.  How do I tell them--I remember everything.  I remember it all.  From the fear to the hunger to the embarrassment.  And yet, would I change it?  Any of it?  No, I would not.

To this very day when I see the faces of people in pain, whether they are homeless, grieving, or physically disabled, my heart automatically goes out to them.  I want to help in some small way.  I wonder--what do they need?  Food, water, warm clothing, a counselor, a friend, what?  How can I help the way others helped me?  I guess my past helped shape my future.  It made me into who I am today.  When I see a need I try to fill it. I like to get involved.  I like to help, the way others helped me.  I give, I counsel, I pray, I listen.  I'm there.  Just the way God was there for me when I was little.  He used those around us to help meet our needs.  A friend brought food over, a neighbor shared her water, another friend had a car, we made it, we survived.  I want others to survive too.  I want to help--in any way I can.  I want to be a sheep--not a goat.

I am now reading a book called--The Hole in Our Gospel.  It's breaking my heart all over again.  It's making me cry.  It's making me realize that what I went through as a child was nothing.  Nothing at all.  Just a short memory.  However, now as an adult I can make a change.  I can do something.
And I'm going to--for the least of these.

Matthew 25:31-46

The Message (MSG)

The Sheep and the Goats

^31-33 “When he finally arrives, blazing in beauty and all his angels with him, the Son of Man will take his place on his glorious throne. Then all the nations will be arranged before him and he will sort the people out, much as a shepherd sorts out sheep and goats, putting sheep to his right and goats to his left.

^34-36 “Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Enter, you who are blessed by my Father! Take what’s coming to you in this kingdom. It’s been ready for you since the world’s foundation. And here’s why:

I was hungry and you fed me,
I was thirsty and you gave me a drink,
I was homeless and you gave me a room,
I was shivering and you gave me clothes,
I was sick and you stopped to visit,
I was in prison and you came to me.’

^37-40 “Then those ‘sheep’ are going to say, ‘Master, what are you talking about? When did we ever see you hungry and feed you, thirsty and give you a drink? And when did we ever see you sick or in prison and come to you?’ Then the King will say, ‘I’m telling the solemn truth: Whenever you did one of these things to someone overlooked or ignored, that was me—you did it to me.’

^41-43 “Then he will turn to the ‘goats,’ the ones on his left, and say, ‘Get out, worthless goats! You’re good for nothing but the fires of hell. And why? Because—

I was hungry and you gave me no meal,
I was thirsty and you gave me no drink,
I was homeless and you gave me no bed,
I was shivering and you gave me no clothes,
Sick and in prison, and you never visited.’

⁴⁴ “Then those ‘goats’ are going to say, ‘Master, what are you talking about? When did we ever see you hungry or thirsty or homeless or shivering or sick or in prison and didn’t help?’

⁴⁵ “He will answer them, ‘I’m telling the solemn truth: Whenever you failed to do one of these things to someone who was being overlooked or ignored, that was me—you failed to do it to me.’
⁴⁶ “Then those ‘goats’ will be herded to their eternal doom, but the ‘sheep’ to their eternal reward.”