Sometimes it is difficult to capture with words the ways my life has changed spiritually through my involvement with The Torch. These past few days, as I have prayed for the people I have the privilege to serve from the food truck, I have been overwhelmed with the Presence of God - and the sense of His immeasurable love for everyone.
I have the privilege of manning the window for the food truck - which means I get to greet and take the order of every single individual who comes to dinner. There is nothing else I do in life that humbles and blesses me as much as doing that. And as I sat and prayed for the hundreds of faces which are captured in my mind - the snippet of a Bible verse became a mantra pulsing through my prayers: “... ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine…”.
And then, I began to weep. And tears stream now as I write, because, as a Christian, I know “The least of these” are people who matter greatly to God, and to me. I weep because I think about the question: Who are they? The knowledge tears at my heart. Because the least of these are the people our society throws away. They are the ones who don’t matter. They don’t produce. They don’t generate money. They are not the most beautiful, handsome, charming, successful, powerful, admired people. They aren’t necessarily going to be world-changers. They are easiest forgotten and ignored. After all, they might need our help and love and support for their entire lives. Heaven forbid. They might not be capable of changing worldviews or situations. Therefore, what could we possibly need them for? Why should we waste our precious resources?
The least of these. My heart aches as I think about the callous assumption that the importance of a human life rests on societies’ scale of judgment. As a human being, I should care. As a Christian, I am compelled to act.
God has used The Torch to change and challenge the spiritual part of me. I can no longer just say I care; I am moved to put action to my belief. I can no longer nonchalantly dismiss my fellow human beings, hiding behind Scripture to protect my own personal kingdom. I have to do something to try to change the reality of how people are viewed and discarded.
Loving others, is a heavy, heart-breaking burden, especially when they are people who appear different. But, as I grow closer to God, and seek to align my life with His Word - I realize that caring for the poor, and reaching out to help other people is not optional like I used to think it was. It isn’t something for me to leave for “someone else” to do, whoever that might be.
As we go about doing what we do at The Torch, Sarah and I often find ourselves accused of “enabling” people. All I can say to that is, I sure as Hell hope we are. I hope we are enabling people to realize how much other people matter. And I hope we are enabling the least of these to acknowledge their infinite value and worth outside of society’s disdain and judgment. I hope they are enabled to see that we sometimes spend hours preparing for a meal that takes an hour to serve because they are worth it. I hope that tired moms are enabled to have one night each week where they can sit in the grass and eat good food without having to cook, or scrape together their last few dollars to pay for gas to get there - or for the meal itself. I hope we enable them to see we view them as having equal standing with us before the very Kingdom of God. I hope we enable them to experience a taste of His love.
They may be the least of these according to society, but for us at The Torch, they are counted among the most valuable created beings on Earth, worthy of our tears, our heartaches, our prayers, and most certainly, our food.
I have the privilege of manning the window for the food truck - which means I get to greet and take the order of every single individual who comes to dinner. There is nothing else I do in life that humbles and blesses me as much as doing that. And as I sat and prayed for the hundreds of faces which are captured in my mind - the snippet of a Bible verse became a mantra pulsing through my prayers: “... ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine…”.
And then, I began to weep. And tears stream now as I write, because, as a Christian, I know “The least of these” are people who matter greatly to God, and to me. I weep because I think about the question: Who are they? The knowledge tears at my heart. Because the least of these are the people our society throws away. They are the ones who don’t matter. They don’t produce. They don’t generate money. They are not the most beautiful, handsome, charming, successful, powerful, admired people. They aren’t necessarily going to be world-changers. They are easiest forgotten and ignored. After all, they might need our help and love and support for their entire lives. Heaven forbid. They might not be capable of changing worldviews or situations. Therefore, what could we possibly need them for? Why should we waste our precious resources?
The least of these. My heart aches as I think about the callous assumption that the importance of a human life rests on societies’ scale of judgment. As a human being, I should care. As a Christian, I am compelled to act.
God has used The Torch to change and challenge the spiritual part of me. I can no longer just say I care; I am moved to put action to my belief. I can no longer nonchalantly dismiss my fellow human beings, hiding behind Scripture to protect my own personal kingdom. I have to do something to try to change the reality of how people are viewed and discarded.
Loving others, is a heavy, heart-breaking burden, especially when they are people who appear different. But, as I grow closer to God, and seek to align my life with His Word - I realize that caring for the poor, and reaching out to help other people is not optional like I used to think it was. It isn’t something for me to leave for “someone else” to do, whoever that might be.
As we go about doing what we do at The Torch, Sarah and I often find ourselves accused of “enabling” people. All I can say to that is, I sure as Hell hope we are. I hope we are enabling people to realize how much other people matter. And I hope we are enabling the least of these to acknowledge their infinite value and worth outside of society’s disdain and judgment. I hope they are enabled to see that we sometimes spend hours preparing for a meal that takes an hour to serve because they are worth it. I hope that tired moms are enabled to have one night each week where they can sit in the grass and eat good food without having to cook, or scrape together their last few dollars to pay for gas to get there - or for the meal itself. I hope we enable them to see we view them as having equal standing with us before the very Kingdom of God. I hope we enable them to experience a taste of His love.
They may be the least of these according to society, but for us at The Torch, they are counted among the most valuable created beings on Earth, worthy of our tears, our heartaches, our prayers, and most certainly, our food.
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