Jesus Sat Under My Tree Today

There was a knock on the door this morning as I was trying to gather the kids to head out of the house. One child was running around naked, supposed to be sitting on the potty trying to to go before we had to leave, the other was on the verge of a meltdown because she didn't want to wear the shoes I had told her to put on and because she couldn't get the third button on her sweater buttoned correctly. "Why do the knocks come at the most inconvenient time?!" I grumbled to myself (...and they do, no lie. But that's a side point...). Shuffling the kids back for a few more minutes of room time, I put a smile on my face and headed out to sit under the tree to greet our friend and hopefully arrange a better time for him to come talk.

And then he walked up. 

He was a youth (22), but looked like a child (13?) due to years of malnutrition and stunted growth. Obviously not quite right in the head, he was dressed in rags, covered in bleeding, oozing sores all over his body. He was holding out his hand, but was mute and unable to communicate what it is he wanted. My friend explained to me that he had a seizure disorder (among other things), which threw him into convulsions and fits at times, which of course ostracized him from the community, making him an "untouchable" by even his family. Everyone believed he was cursed by an evil spirit, and they feared they might be cursed or rejected themselves if they were to reach out and help him. As we were sitting there discussing his situation and what could be done about it, the boy suddenly lost his balance and fell backward off the bench, crying out in pain as the few sores that had scabbed over were now fresh with oozing blood again. Nearly losing his threadbare pants in the process, he stood up and walked off in humiliation and pain to seek help from someone (anyone...) else along the road.

Turning to my friend I asked, "What should I do for him? If I give him medicine, he will not know what to do with it. His family is not caring for him, so I can not seek their help. I can not just give him money, but maybe I could give him food..." Honestly, I could not think of another time that I have seen some as miserable or destitute or rejected as this boy.

"It is not your responsibility to help him," my friend (a leader in the church) said. "If people see the muzungu always caring for the people that they should be taking care of, they will always then expect the missionaries to be doing the work of the church instead of doing it themselves. If you are the ones always helping, it will become a crutch and a reason for them to not help." Honestly, I was quite surprised by the words that had come out of my friend's mouth. Feeling a bit of relief but a surge of anger, I bit my tongue and asked as gracefully as I could, "Then what is the church doing about it? Why are they not caring for the orphans or the lame? Why are they not bandaging the wounds of this suffering child? Why are they not nursing the baby whose mother died in childbirth instead of allowing it to die? Why?!" I asked as hot, bitter tears ran across my eyes and burned my cheeks. By this time I had been moved from meager annoyance that my friend had showed up at a bad time, to anger at the complete injustice I was witnessing before my eyes.

"It is because they need the Gospel" he said, "and because they need discipleship." 

And he was right. They need it, and we need it. 

We need to see ourselves in that boy, with festering sores, miserable and unable to help ourselves. We need to see that what Jesus did on the cross was not only coming down from heaven to bandage our wounds, nourish our stomachs, and heal our souls. Yes, that was a part of it (a big part). But additionally, there was a holy exchange that took place on the cross, in which he literally took on all of our wretchedness, helplessness and humiliation, and gave us His righteousness and holiness and perfection so that now we can stand before our Father without blot or blemish to be seen.

THAT is the GOSPEL. 

And until we see ourselves as being in that same destitute position as the one who sat under my tree today, we will never fully appreciate the meaning of grace.

"Then the King will say to those on His right, 'Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.' Then the righteous will answer him, saying, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and gave you drink? And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?' And the King will answer them, 'Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me." Matthew 25:34-40

Jesus, forgive me for my petty annoyance at having my day inconvenienced by You. Give me eyes to see You in the suffering. Give me wisdom to know how to be your hands and feet to a hurting world. And Lord Jesus, ignite your church once again for a passion to see you glorified 

in the muck and the mire of 

this thing we call Life.