Love for the Least?

Me and my MITS friend, Eugene.

     So this past Thursday, I traveled with the literacy students (about half our kids) and some of the staff to the Gikomba market (one of the largest open air markets in Nairobi) so that our kids could purchase black leather shoes for school.  Just like many other places in Nairobi, Gikomba assaulted my senses with an assortment of smells, sounds and sights.  It had rained the day previous, so the ground was sloppy with wet, sticky mud that I trudged around in for most of the day.  The assortment of smells ranged from exhaust fumes and sewer waste to cooking food and cut fruit.  Overhead I could hear the calls of a sundry birds swooping low over the market hoping for scraps of food as they invaded the sound of hundreds of shoppers bartering and arguing over prices.  Each staff member had been assigned to walk with four students and help them in the process of selecting their shoes and then bartering for the price.  Each student had been allotted 750 shillings (about $9) in which to purchase their school shoes.  I had the pleasure of walking with students/staff and just enjoying the experience of the Gikomba market.

     While walking, I struck up a conversation with Eugene, one of the MITS students, and he began explaining to me that he used to visit this market as a street kid.  He explained to me that he would come to this market to scavenge scraps of metal that he could sell cheap for coin.  I asked him if there was a difference between the way he was treated then (dressed in shabby, smelly clothes) as a street kid and the way he was treated now (dressed in uniform) as a student.  He quickly and firmly responded that there was a big difference in the way he was treated.  That nearly broke my heart!

Eugene, Moses & Alex working (posing) at the farm

     That short conversation stuck in my head all day long as I wandered between stalls, fighting the crowds.  The questions that rattled around in my head like a pinball were: 1.) Was there that much difference in Eugene as a street kid (then) and as a student (now)?  2.)How different would I have treated Eugene as a street kid (maybe first meeting him in the market) as opposed to knowing him as a MITS student?  3.) How is God involved in this process of loving people no matter where you find them and how am I a part of that process?  The answers to those difficult questions were a hard pill for me to swallow.  My guess is that if i would have met Eugene on the street I either would have paid him little attention or I would have completely ignored him.  To be honest, I'm sure there is outwardly, in appearance, and even spiritually, with God, a lot different about Eugene - the street kid and Eugene - the MITS student.  But practically speaking, he is still the same kid, with the same kind of desires, dreams, hopes, fears, struggles that we all have.  The biggest difference in Eugene is that in one setting he is dirty, smelly and undesirable to be around . . . in the other setting he is happy, engaging and a joy to be around.  But the problem lies not with Eugene . . . but with me and with my heart.
     I am reminded of Jesus' words in Matthew 25 when he says:

“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world.  For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’  Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink?  When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you?  When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’  The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me’"  (Matthew 25:34-40).

Eugene posing at a GNPI field trip

This is a stark reminder that Jesus came to seek and save the lost.  That he came to those who were sick and dying to bring a balm to their wounds.  That Jesus came to the weak and lowest in society (the poor, the blind, the lame, the lepers, the prostitutes, the outcast) to bring them hope and love.  The very people that I sometimes find myself ignoring, shunning or spending little time with.  Jesus' love was meant for all, even those that I might find undesirable.
     There is a story that is told that goes something like this:

"I recently read about an old man, walking the beach at dawn, who noticed a young man ahead of him picking up starfish and flinging them into the sea. Catching up with the youth, he asked what he was doing. The answer was that the stranded starfish would die if left in the morning sun. 'But the beach goes on for miles and miles, and there are millions of starfish,' countered the man. 'How can your effort make any difference?' The young man looked at the starfish in his hand and then threw it to safety in the waves. 'It makes a difference to this one,' he said" (Hugh Duncan, Leadership Journal.) 

     Just remember that one person you passed up today is important and loved by God.  By showing them the love of Christ you will be making a tremendous difference in their life today that will have echoes throughout eternity.  I probably would have never met affable, smiling Eugene, but for the amazing work of God in people's lives to love street kids here in Nairobi.  And now, I am reminded everyday that a Eugene exists on every corner of my lifelong journey!  Do I have the love of Christ within me to make a difference in that one's life?