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Under Bridges

“And he will answer, ‘I tell you the truth, when you refused to help the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were refusing to help me.’

Matthew 25:45

This past week was a missions week at church.  To those who don't know, once a year my church brings in many of the missionaries that we support.  They share their struggles, triumphs, and plans.  It help bring home that what we do as a church matters.

I was reminded this week that I have changed.


I remember when I was young that I couldn't watch one of those "help the children" commercials without tearing up.  Now however, I found that in many instances I just didn't really care.  I would try to justify myself by saying that I am focusing on my families needs or that we already give financially, but really I have just hardened my heart.  I don't really pray for those I've committed to pray for as much as I should.  I don't really think about Valerine, the child we help support Ghana, too often.  I just choose to think about other things.  So what can I do to soften my heart?

Perhaps maybe if I remembered that "the least of these" are all around me...

I catch myself forgetting this all the time.  I forget it when I judge my pot smoking classmates and coworkers.  I forget it when I get annoyed at those with different views than I do.  I forget it when I choose to ignore the needy nearby and around the world.

I am leaving you today with the lyrics to a Brave Saint Saturn song.  I challenge myself, and by extension, you, to choose not to ignore those around us.  Unless we help each other, we don't really show our appreciation that God help us.

Yesterday while walking, 
Beneath an overpass, 
I saw the figure of Jesus, 
Standing barefoot on broken glass. 
His beard was graying, 
The smell of urine filled the air, 
Asking if I had some change, 
Anything that I could spare.

Emaciated, 
His shaking fists balled up, 
Influenza and pneumonia, 
Begging God to take his cup. 
So different from his pictures, 
Breathing air through yellowed tubes, 
Jesus Christ, dying of AIDS, 
Can look right through you.

And all have hated, 
Crucified and walked away, 
The Savior of the prostitutes, 
Drunkards, rapists, and the gays.

Under bridges, 
With hands raised, 
From the ghettos they praise his name. 
Broke and crippled in the dark of night, 
Raise your voices to Jesus Christ, 
Hallelujah.


Stay safe out there,
D. A. Acevedo
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