The Least of These

I suppose there has never been a shortage of suffering or disaster in the world. The location and faces may change, but some group is always falling prey to atrocities or natural disaster. So much so, that we in the suburban west tend to become desensitized. Oh, the starving children and others make it onto our televisions from time to time, but they seem so far away that it’s difficult to care about them. They don’t look like us or talk like us. They practice different religions. We rationalize that they just aren’t willing to help themselves. Eventually, we change the channel … and they go away. We flush them from our conscious thought with another, more attractive, program and it’s almost as if they don’t exist. We don’t want them to exist, because if we really pause to think about them, it forces us to make a conscious decision: either to help them or ignore them. Neither fits our social agenda so we choose not to think about them. Recently, however, the devastation of the Tsunami caught our attention. It stayed on the front page and in the news longer than most disasters. The devastation and loss of life were so staggering that it became difficult to ignore. Many of us wrote checks to relief funds administered by our churches or other organizations. That’s a good thing. In our home, there seemed to be a tug on our heartstrings to take an additional step in response to the unprecedented suffering and loss. Our church made a commitment to do something more than just send money and, suddenly, my dear wife has joined a team of other compassionate folks headed to Sri Lanka in a week. They will deliver humanitarian aid, offer comfort to individual victims, administer relief spending and build relationships that will help us to serve those suffering most even better in the future. My beloved spouse doesn’t have any tangible skills that would be useful in reconstruction, but she has a huge heart and a particular gift of compassion. Still, we have to ask the question, “Can one person make a difference?” Absolutely! Every heroic effort, every lofty humanitarian cause, boils down to the hearts and hands of individual people on the front line. Someone has to get their hands dirty. Someone has to risk the sickness and heart ache inherent to working in third world countries on the far side of the globe. Not everyone can go, but someone must. Now this is not a guilt message. You can find that in my January 3^rd posting entitled “Waves of Responsibility.” My point today is to encourage each of us to discover where we fit into the big picture. We all have something to give. Some can give money. Some folks have time. Others have specific skills or talents that God can use to help others. Each of us contributes as we have been blessed, and together we comprise the entire, complimentary package of compassion which makes humankind so amazing. We are, after all, made in God’s image so it gives us a glimpse of the nature of God as well. Now, there are lots of other problems in the world besides the tsunami-related damage. This just happens to be the one at the forefront of public attention for the time being. The point is that we all have a part to play, a responsibility to both our Creator and our fellow man. Jesus made it clear that when we feed the hungry, offer shelter to the homeless, and care for widows and orphans then we are doing his work. What is more, He indicated that when we perform such acts we are essentially do so to Him, which also implies that the withholding thereof constitutes a personal affront to Him. So let us not forget those who are suffering so much right now. They are far away and they are strangers, but they are in need and we are called to help them. May our prayers and support be with those whom we send to serve upon the front line of compassion on the far side of the world … and may each of us find the courage to ask ourselves that all important question, “What can I do to help?”

The Least of These

I know that look, the look of pain

I've seen it time and time again

In the eyes of children on the street

And people who just need to eat

I've seen it on the tired and old

Whose lives were spent on fool's gold

And lonely people everywhere

Who simply want someone to care

It's the face of poverty and need

Of famine, flood and tyrant's greed

The face that haunts me in the night

And even in the broad daylight

Imploring me to stop and care

Instead, I pass and blindly stare

Ahead, to comfort and security

And away from those who so need me

My pristine little world is safe

From homeless beggar and starving waif

But not from God, whom I asked in

Whose voice I hear above the din

Who pierces hardened hearts like mine

And melts the ice of stubborn minds

And calls me to reach out and care

For those in need and in despair

For Jesus feels every tear

He knows each pain and every fear

Those with hunger, heart ache and disease

Jesus knows the least of these

So if I turn my back on them

I have, in fact, done so to him

For only by the way I care

Will people know that God is there

Lord, break my heart and bend my knees

That I may love the least of these

By Frank Carpenter ©