Go Beyond

Kolkata, India

In my prayer time this morning, I asked the Lord to help me see the world and the people around me a little more clearly. Because I am so accustomed to the sights and sounds of Kolkata, it’s easy for me to look past the things that I more readily noticed on my first visits here. For the past several years I have tried to be more intentional about developing peripheral compassion by looking more carefully to my right and to my left. I have learned that needs tend to lurk and live in these blurry and shadowy peripheral places. It’s not difficult for me to miss what should be obvious needs when I become too focused on where I am headed or what I happen to be doing at the moment. That’s why I often remind myself to walk slowly among the people and to see and listen to them carefully. I’m certainly not where I need to be in this regard but I am making progress.

This afternoon, our student teams headed for their respective assignments at Mother Teresa’s homes. As we walked to our bus in the misting rain, I noticed the beggars on the street whose meager possessions were covered with scraps of plastic and who sought shelter under any available cover. Rain is refreshing but certainly makes life even more inconvenient for those who live on the streets. Later, as my team and I walked through the slum outside of Prem Dan, our assigned home, I looked at and into the shanties that line the street and was again overwhelmed by the extreme poverty. Everything that is convenient to me, from clean water to a pantry full of groceries, is alien to these street dwellers. I also looked at the faces of our students as they walked through the current of beggars that live outside of Prem Dan. They are seeing things they have never seen before and, as a result, are beginning to sharpen their peripheral vision and compassion.

As my team and I served the residents at Prem Dan I made it a point to linger a little longer with each person I helped and to look at them a little more intently. I looked more carefully into each face and tried to notice their every expression. I was blessed by how each of them express their gratitude for our service. Even those who can’t speak are able to deliver a Hallmark card with a hint of a smile or a faint nod of the head. The most surprising experience today happened after I rubbed lotion into the hands, legs, feet, and back of a man lying in a fetal position. He was mumbling incoherently the entire time as his body twitched involuntarily. He was not able to fix his eyes on anything and had a far away and blank look on his face. When I finished caring for him I patted him twice on the back and began to walk toward the resident in the next bed. That’s when I heard him stop mumbling and clearly but faintly say, “Thank you, brother.” And then he went into the same mumbling cadence as when I had first helped him.

Could this have been Jesus in the distressing disguise of the poor? I think so. And, I wonder what Jesus will say when I see Him face to face. Perhaps He will say, “I was naked and poor and sick and you cared for me. Thank you, brother.”