The Least of These by Jennifer Seo Ney
Eleven years ago, when I was an intern from Canada with Word Made Flesh Sierra Leone (WMF SL), one of the books that influenced me to move to the edge of the Kroo Bay slum area in Sierra Leone was Ron Sider’s book, Rich Christians in the Age of Hunger. In his book, he shares with us about Matthew 25:35-40. “For I was hungry, and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty, and you gave me something to drink… I needed clothes and you clothed me…Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me” (vv. 35-36, 40). He then challenged me with these words, “What does it mean that whatever we did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of Jesus’, we did for Jesus (v.40) in a world where millions die each year of starvation while rich Christians live in affluence?”
Not that I knew exactly what to do to answer his question, but I appreciated Word Made Flesh’s vision to serve Jesus among the most vulnerable of the world’s poor. I wanted to serve Jesus by practicing solidarity with those who are poor. I ate the same food as the Sierra Leonean family I lived with and developed friendships with my neighbors. I became somewhat comfortable with a communal lifestyle with hardly any personal space – and even that space I shared with mice. Eleven years later, the vision of WMF is something I still strongly believe in and I want to continue to serve Jesus among friends who are struggling with poverty[1]. The longer I serve Jesus among friends who are poor, the more I understand the challenges and complexities of this task.
I have been married for 8 years and have two Sierra Leonean boys. God has blessed us and our children. I struggle with chronic illnesses that limit my ability to engage with my friends who are poor as much as I would like to. A year ago, our family made a difficult decision to move further from Kroo Bay for a more sustainable lifestyle.
So with these changes in my life, what does it mean to continue to serve Jesus among those who are poor? Though this is a question I won’t likely find an easy answer to, one of the things I am aware is how the kind of power I possess, as an educated Western missionary, is often making it difficult to develop true friendships with those who are struggling with poverty. I know that power can often make me proud, which prevents me from serving Jesus well in my context. When we serve Jesus among friends who are poor, service is expressed through physical proximity to the poor, but it also is expressed through relinquishing power through humility.
Recently I had an opportunity to choose service over power[2] with one of the youth we work with. “Jeremy” has been a friend of WMF SL for many years. He is loved by the WMF SL community because he is considered to be trustworthy, faithful, kind and helpful. I have known him for many years and I too trusted him deeply. I would have given him the key to my house without hesitation.
A few weeks ago, Jeremy contacted me and told me that he needed money (about $20 USD) urgently because one of his neighbors was sick. He showed me a list of medications with prices. Since I knew the neighbor Jeremy was talking about, I was ready to make an arrangement with the WMF SL administrator so that Jeremy could have access to the fund for the medicine. Shortly after that, I realized that there were some things about the list Jeremy gave me that made me suspect that he wasn’t telling me the truth. I was 99% sure he lied to me.
I was angry, hurt and sad. ‘How could Jeremy do this to me? Out of every youth I know, I trusted him more than anyone!’ Part of me was tempted to use my power and authority as a Field Director to shame him. But as I was praying for him, God revealed my pride to me. I became aware of how I too was a sinner saved only by God’s grace.
I had planned to have Jeremy meet with a few colleagues of mine to investigate the matter fully and perhaps to reveal to everyone what a terrible thing he has done to me. But I felt led to meet with him one on one instead. In my conversation with him, it became 100% clear that he had indeed lied to me. With God’s help, however, I was able to lovingly rebuke him, then communicate forgiveness and love to him. When he cried and thanked me, I knew he was doing so with all sincerity.
I am thankful that God convicted me of my pride. Pride prevents people from serving others. When I thought that I was better than Jeremy and, thus, overpowered him with my moral superiority and pride, I wasn’t able to truly forgive him. I couldn’t honor his dignity because of my pride. Serving Jesus among the friends who are poor is to draw near to them with humility.
It is mind boggling to think of the kind of humility Jesus had to become human to serve humanity. Because Jesus served me first, I can learn from Him what it means to serve. Also, friendship with people like Jeremy gives me – a broken soul with pride and selfishness – a privilege to be transformed to be more like Jesus.
I would like to go back to the question Sider challenged me with, “What does Matthew 25:40 mean in a world where millions die each year of starvation while rich Christians live in affluence?” Perhaps the first step is to go near those who are poor with humility – wherever one is in the world, we can pray that God would open our eyes to see people who are poor as people with names and stories, rather than faceless, nameless statistics. They are precious people who are created in God’s image and who are dearly loved by God. Only when we have the eyes to see the infinite value that God ascribes to those who are struggling with poverty, can one begin to think about what serving Jesus means in a world where millions die each year of starvation while rich Christians live in affluence.
[1] One of the books I found helpful in better understanding WMF’s theology and praxis of developing friendships with those who are marginalized is Chris Heuertz and Christine Pohl’s book, Friendship at the Margins.
[2] In his book, The Celebration of the Disciplined Life, Richard Foster talks about service as an antidote to the temptation of destructive power.