Go Beyond

Kolkata, India

Our time in Kolkata comes to an end today. We will head to the airport in a few hours to begin the long journey home. Our suitcases are stuffed with dirty laundry, muddy shoes, and a souvenir or two to remind us of our time of serving the least of these in muggy Kolkata. More importantly, we are returning home with hearts filled with precious memories. While some of these memories may get lost under the accumulated stacks of memories yet to come, they will always be a permanent part of our respective stories. And, through the years to come, we will see or hear things that will send us rushing into the attic of our personal history to rifle through faded stacks until we find that particular memory of something that we experienced here. Then, when we find what we’re looking for, we’ll blow the dust off of the yellowed pages and smile and say to ourselves or someone else, “I remember when I went to Kolkata and …”

In my case, many of my memories live here in Kolkata. Every time I return to the City of Joy I manage to bump into memories who, like old friends, come running out to embrace me and to welcome me back. I find them riding along with me in cabs and rickshaws, reminding me of good times we shared. They follow me through the crowded streets and stand beside me as I serve at familiar places like Mother Teresa’s homes. And when I try to go to bed at night, they often keep me up. In many ways I find security in their company when I am so far away from home. I know that the next time I come I will be reunited with even more memories created during my time here with our great team of students.

Last night we said our goodbyes to six of my friends who joined us here to help with our logistics. It’s always a bittersweet thing to say goodbye, knowing that we have shared a slice of time that can never again be repeated in exactly the same way. God used this combination of us — students and adults and friends — who met in this particular place at this particular time to touch the lives of people we never thought we’d meet — hurting and poor and damaged people who have been blessed by the work of our hands and who blessed us in ways we could never have imagined. We are all returning home a little different than when we arrived here last week. God has used our experiences here to shape us a little more into the image of Christ (Rom. 8:29). I am grateful to have had the privilege to share this brief slice of time with our students and chaperones and friends. And, I look forward to lots of great reunions with the many new memories we made while serving together in the City of Joy.

Kolkata, India

Every time I volunteer at Mother Teresa’s homes I make it a point to look for familiar faces — men I have cared for on previous visits. Because so many of these men are in frail health, I know that many of them will die before I have an opportunity to visit again. That’s one reason I want to do all that I can to comfort these men while I am here. My biggest wish is that I had the language skills to communicate with them in either Hindi or Bangla. And although a handful of these men speak a little English, most do not and some are so ill that they cannot speak at all. However, all of these men understand the common language of love expressed through a caring touch or a warm smile.

Yesterday afternoon, I watched a frail old man getting ready for bed. This man is among those who has lost the ability to speak. As he sat on the edge of his bed, he folded his trembling and wrinkled hands and began to move his lips in prayer. I could not help but smile as one of our guys walked over to pray with him. After the “Amen” the elderly man looked into the eyes of our volunteer and smiled. I don’t know if this man will still be alive when I visit again, but I am glad for the way in which our team members have taken the initiative to do small things with great love for this man and the others at Prem Dan.

This week, two of the men that we have cared for at Prem Dan died quietly in the night. It was sad to walk past their empty beds where in previous days we had massaged their limbs and helped to feed them. Because of the Missionaries of Charity and the volunteers who come to serve beside them, these men died with dignity. Mother Teresa said that she wanted for “people who lived like animals to die like angels — loved and wanted.” These men, neither of whom could speak, were fortunate that they did not have to die alone on the streets but instead died in a place steeped in love.

Whenever I volunteer at Mother Teresa’s homes I also make it a point to visit with some of the Missionaries of Charity that I have befriended on previous visits. One of my favorite nuns was Sister Olinda, an Indian lady from Darjeeling, who served at Kalighat (home for the dying). She spoke several languages, including Spanish. We always enjoyed sitting and conversing in Spanish about Jesus and about the beauty of serving the poor. I inquired about her yesterday and learned that she died on March 28 at about ten in the morning at Mother’s House. My heart was saddened by this news. In addition to the many languages that she spoke, Sister Olinda was fluent in the language of love, a requirement for caring for the least of these. I will miss her but am grateful for the time we were privileged to spend together serving the least of these at Kalighat.

Today is our last day to serve at Mother Teresa’s homes. Our team will head back to the United States tomorrow. Each of our students and adult sponsors will return home much more fluent in the language of love because of their service here. Thanks for your prayers for our team as we have served the least of these and the oppressed in Kolkata.

Kolkata, India

I have absolutely enjoyed my time in Kolkata with our high school graduates. Our students have demonstrated a maturity beyond their years as they have compassionately ministered to others. Every evening, we conclude our day with a time of worship and debriefing. This is my favorite time of the day because I get to hear about what our students experienced in their own words. Last night was especially moving as our students prayed for particular individuals they have served this week. A few wept as they prayed. It’s obvious that our students have been deeply moved by all they have seen and experienced here. Afterwards we took a few minutes to share humorous stories about something that has happened this week. Lots of healthy laughter! And finally, we took time to pray for our fellow Kingsland students who are serving in six other locations around the world.

As our students shared their personal stories last night, I thought about one of my favorite Mother Teresa quotes: “I am a little pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending a love letter to the world.” I am proud of our students for allowing God to use them to write a legible message of love through their lives this week. They have communicated a clear message by loving and serving others in the name of Jesus without any conditions and without expecting anything in return. This week they have joyfully served those who possess nothing or who have very little at best. In some cases we have only been able to offer a smile, but as Mother Teresa said, “Every time you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing.” So, even a smile is not wasted but serves a purpose in the story that God is writing through each of our lives.

When I consider the example of Mother Teresa and her continuing influence long after her death, I am challenged to consider what God is writing through my life. In order for Him to write a clear and legible message through my life I have to yield control of each stroke of the pencil to Him. If I try to wrestle control away from Him then the message becomes garbled and confused. As a young Christ-follower I learned a little poem that expresses the importance of writing a clear message by the way that we live:

You are writing a gospel,
a chapter a day,
by the deeds that you do
and the words that you say.
Others read what you write,
distorted or true,
So, what is the gospel,
according to you?

In order to write a message that others understand, we need to place ourselves in the hands of the Author of love. Only then will we become a letter of recommendation for Christ (2 Cor. 3:2-3). Our students have allowed God to use them to write a message of love on the parchment of service this week. And, the best part is that this message does not require a translator. Anybody can understand it. The poor children we have served, the residents in Mother Teresa’s homes, and the girls in the aftercare have all understood every loving word that God has written with our little pencils. But what about you? Have you placed yourself in the hand of the only one who can write a legible message of love through your life? Allow God, the Author of love, to write a love letter through your life, today.

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.”

Kolkata, India

In addition to serving at New Hope School in the slums and at the aftercare home that we fund for young girls rescued from sex trafficking, our students have spent the last two afternoons serving at three of Mother Teresa’s homes. Mother Teresa’s influence and example continues to draw thousands of volunteers annually from around the world. They come here to serve the least of these for a variety of reasons. Many who come are searching for greater significance in life and are realizing that the path to significance is paved with service. Others come because, like Mother Teresa, they want to follow the example of Jesus and obey His words to care for the least of these. Some come out of curiosity and leave convicted about selfish living. But regardless of the reason why people come … they come by the thousands to serve and to care for the poorest of the poor, Kolkata’s outcasts.

I have been deeply moved by the tender and compassionate hearts of our students. On their first day at their assigned home, several silently wept at what they saw. But, within minutes, our students fell into the rhythm of serving and caring for the physical needs of the residents. It’s amazing to watch kids who may not take the initiative to clean their rooms at home so quickly take the initiative to help a broken man or woman to make their way to the toilet or to bring them a cup of water. But, what always amazes me most when I bring volunteers to serve at Mother Teresa’s homes is how they react when I hand them a bottle of lotion and then ask them to rub lotion into the dry, calloused, and broken feet of those we have come to serve. Our students did not hesitate for a second. It’s hard to find the words to describe what I felt as I watched our students tenderly massage the tired feet of the least of these, many of whom have never owned a pair of shoes.

Touching and washing the feet of the least of these is a profound and humbling experience. You cannot touch or wash the feet of others unless you are willing to bend low — both inside and out. When Jesus and His disciples gathered to eat the Passover meal in the upper room, Jesus got up from the table and washed His disciples’ feet (John 13:1-17). Jesus then explained to them that He had set an example of service He expected them to follow. Jesus did not institute foot washing as a church ordinance but rather set an example of the kind of humble service His followers should show to others. No other world view has a theology of feet or a leader who stooped to wash the feet of his disciples. We are most like Jesus when we compassionately and humbly bend low to serve others, expecting nothing in return. When I look at the hands of our students, I see beautiful hands — the hands of Jesus. They have used their hands to do for the least of these what Jesus would do.