Be Jesus To The Least Of Them
For whoever keeps the whole law and yet stumbles at
just one point is guilty of breaking all of it. – James 2:10
He is a good man. He loves Jesus. He volunteers with
his church. He volunteers with a men’s ministry. Sometimes he helps friends and
neighbors.
One might say he is overly ambitious in his love for
the Lord. His service is spotty. He makes many promises but he only keeps some.
He doesn’t mean to do that. It’s just that he makes too many commitments and
fails to remember most of them.
His heart intends to do good. His actions say
dishonest and undependable. I have found him to be wonderful in an emergency.
He is present and good and helpful. Just don’t count on him during the long
run. He won’t show up.
Another friend once ran a ministry. He was great at
the speaking events. He was a hard worker during the fundraiser and a
passionate advocate for checks to good causes. But when it came to changing a
light bulb for an elderly church member, well, he couldn’t be bothered. He was
awesome in the prominent, glorifying arena. But he didn’t care much for service
that would never be noticed by anyone but the recipient.
I don’t mean to pick on the men of faith. Women can
and are just as bad. They are careful to run meetings and write checks. Please
don’t ask them to wash dishes or take food to someone who is poor. It just won’t
happen. They’re just too busy.
They are us. It clearly violates Jesus’ teaching but
we turn a blind eye to that. We may say it’s all about Him but, really, we want
it to be all about us.
We are the do-gooders. We want to do good. We mean to
do good. We just get so busy, so distracted, so focused on what looks good and
feels good that we miss the poor, the elderly, the sick. Because helping isn’t
about offering up a prayer or a check, no matter how wonderful those things
are.
Being Jesus means showing up during the hard times. It
means getting dirty when the situation calls for manual labor. It means buying
groceries and doing the laundry and sitting with someone in a hospital so the
family member can actually go outside for a break.
When the day is done, it isn’t the lofty promises that
people remember. It isn’t the checks that they recall. What matters most is the
gift of time. It is the helping hand that remembered to show up. It is the
smile and hug that lifted a worn spirit. It is the gracious kindness of walking
a worn path with someone who was tired, hurting, alone.
Don’t make promises you won’t keep. And don’t write a
check and call yourself good. Show up. It matters. Be Jesus to the least of
them on this earth.
