When You Meet Christ on the Curb

Anyone may have witnessed the scene my son and I saw just an hour ago.  It happens on street corners, in parking lots and on sidewalks worldwide.  It happens so often passersby seem to have grown cold to it, which, I think makes desensitization look mild. 

Onlookers might judge the person's appearance as he stands in the frigid January evening wearing a grey hoodie and no coat or gloves.  He doesn't appear homeless or even all that needy.  What does needy or homeless look like, anyway?  Tattered?  Pale and unshaven?  Do his bones need to show for anyone to have sympathy for him?

My son and I think otherwise.  The young man's cardboard sign, bearing lopsided lettering and held against his chest, reads, "Father of two.  Lost job.  Need work, or anything you can do to help. God bless you." 

The young man stood on the curb opposite our lane of travel.  I felt that push I often feel when faced with someone in difficult circumstances, and I had my son with me to share the experience. I have missed opportunities before because of not wanting to humiliate anyone, or call attention to myself.  I need to get over it, now and completely.

We were on our way to pick up a pizza, my son's treat while his dad travels for business this week.  The pizza seemed utterly unimportant in the reflection of this young man's status.  Ordering a pizza, in light of someone else's need, certainly paints it in the right light.  Frivolous.  Wasteful.  Unnecessary. Self-indulgent. 

Making a turn into a parking area and entering the lane next to the man's chosen place on the curb, I handed my son a five dollar bill, the only note I had with me, and instructed him to open his window and offer it to the man.  My son's window slid down as we approached the spot on the curb where the sneakered feet stood, waiting.

I will never forget the sound of my son's innocent, hopeful voice as he called, "Here you go!" toward the young man.  I could not hear the man's response or see his face, but could sense he struggled to take the bill as he shifted his sign and spoke to my boy. 

I will never forget the sight of my son's face as he turned from the window, his eyes full of tears.  He couldn't tell me what the man had said to him until later, which was, "God be with you, young man.  Thank you."  It meant more than he knew it ever could mean before that moment.  At almost twelve years old, he has seen more and felt more and has begun to piece together the sadder realities of life.   This marked his first experience with this kind of need. 

I didn't try to explain the man's unknown circumstances, nor did I have to review with my son about God's presence everywhere.  Thank God ... my boy knows what he needs to know about his Heavenly Father and has made the choice to have Jesus in his heart. 

My son met Jesus on the curb.

Jesus said,

 “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, you did for me.’

~~Matthew 25:34-40

This event will burrow into my son's memory; a child who lacks for nothing every day of the week.  It illustrates for everyone that the blessings of food, clothing and shelter can disappear in the blink of an eye.  Christ comes closer each time we encounter life's disappointments, tragedies, suffering, illness, loss and struggles.  We can see him in faces, in the silent appeal of eye contact all around us as this world continues to drag its inhabitants to the edge of destruction. 

Don't hesitate in helping someone, no matter how little you can give or how small your gesture.  Don't leave Christ standing there on the curb looking forlorn and hopeless, wondering when someone might shed his selfish human nature as readily as He put on human flesh for us.

A wise old pastor of mine once said, "I always have a few bills or change handy, and I give to everyone I see on the street who asks.  I never want to miss anyone in real need ... to miss meeting Christ on the street."

What a great lesson to live.

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Christmas comes but once a year.
It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas.
Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat.
Go, tell it on the mountain!
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!
Joy to the world, the Lord is come.

How many song lyrics, poems or stories remind you of this Season of Hope, sometimes when we're months in front of or behind it?  How often do words or phrases change our tune or outlook on the world around us?  How powerful, the words we use, the words we hear, the words we read!

Those of us celebrate the birth of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, know full well that Christmas is closer than we're ready for, just yet, as we're headlong and up to our eyeballs in preparation for our family celebrations.  Those who celebrate simply, "Christmas" as a gift-giving observance, probably feel the same pull from family and social obligations, long lists of need-to-purchase gifts, baking, visiting, entertaining, and lack of rest.

When we look beyond the wrappings, peer past the decorations, focus away from the dazzle and the dollars, we have a very simple, poignant and melancholy... yes, melancholy ... remembrance of a baby boy's birth.  Those of us who have given birth, or have held a newborn and known the joy and awe in the tiny form know a tad about the feelings Mary had as she cradled the newborn King. 

God, our Heavenly Father, came to earth in the form of a helpless baby, born to poor, working class parents who had no hope of riches nor ever rise in rank in a class-oriented society.  He came to give us a human example of Godly perfection.  He came to show us that anyone could choose to do right and to believe whole-heartedly, as well as to give of his whole heart to everyone who needed even a glimmer of hope to go on in this weary world.

Jesus came to die. For a beautiful, glorious, grace-filled reason, but to die, nonetheless.  Anyone who has a child or holds loved ones dear cannot fathom, cannot even try to imagine bringing that child into the world for the ultimate purpose of offering him as a sacrifice -- for everyone else on earth and everyone yet to be born.  And the melancholy enters.  No one pictures death in the face of a newborn, seeing the promise and potential there for future milestones, and comparing characteristics of family members in the small one's features.  No one thinks of turning this child over to certain death ... having never done wrong himself.  Yet, he came to live a godly example and ... to ... die.

He came for you.  He came for me.  He came for the family down the road whom you have never met.  He came for taxi drivers, teachers, ditch diggers, doctors, world leaders, slaves, mothers, fathers, siblings, priests, mill workers, lawyers, tax collectors, businessmen, children and adults.  He came for one and all, not just a few.  He wants every one of us.

We need only give ourselves, and then watch and listen for the changes he makes within us, that help in making us new, help in making us more Christ-like.

We need only try with a mustard-seed-size faith -- if that's all we have to offer.  We need only look to Him for guidance, for grace and for mercy.  We will try and fail, we will persevere and suffer, we will work hard and glean little.  We will continue on in this path of faith ... and find Him at the end, just as he was at the Beginning.

He came for you.

God bless you, and Merry Christmas!

When Dali Came Face To Face With The Real Dali

This was the highlight of my trip to New York. Naturally I went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art as I knew there were two Dalis hanging there. Did I mentioned that I used to sell Dali's lithographs in Paddington, Sydney during my Uni days? Well I did and fell in love with his paintings, but I have never seen a real Dali in my life. His paintings are all over the world and its a bit silly to try and see all of them.

I spent just over an hour inside The Met but was staring at The Crucifixion for over 20 minutes. I wanted to say "Hey, I blogged as Dali, you know!". The painting happens to be one of my favourites as well, hence I was in awe as I did not know which two Dalis were hanging there. The other was a B grade Dali, The Madonna & Child in concentric circles... but I digress. Since I had been acquainted with his works, I was dying to tell someone what a wonderful painting we all were looking at. I was exclaiming to the group next to me, "What a magnificent piece..."... half hoping that someone would ask me why it was so... lol... yeah, conceited...

Then someone actually said "Yea, its unusual.." Thats all I needed, and before you know it, I was lecturing on why the painting was so great... I know, I can't help myself, but after a while I had an audience of six..lol. I believe I said something like this: "Its Dali's way of interpreting Christ on the Cross. The Catholics were in shock over the painting. Dali used atomic blocks to depict the cross to bring Christ to the nuclear age, and Christ was not bloodied and his hands and feet were not nailed, its totally against the teachings of a suffering Christ. The painting in itself was crisp in realism, it brought Christ to the 20th century on how we viewed the Redeemer... and if you looked at the lower side its a chess board like feature, ... where are we placing Christ in our chess of life. .. and you cannot see the face of Jesus as that would be close to idolatry, God need not and should not have a face as Jesus was human and God and that's all we needed to know. Jesus was depicted as a healthy looking body, not frail or disfigured, and that plays into how we view Jesus, is he still nailed on the Cross... of course not. In Dali's twisted yet brilliant mind, he sees Christ much like the Protestants did, the deed is done, its over, get over yourselves... he is no longer on the Cross. That's why I think the painting is incredible..." Lol, I did get some praises for that... it was really an incredible setting, I wish I could bottle up the experience.

p/s on my last day somebody told me that the Guggenheim also have a Dali.. Birth of Liquid Desires, not exactly one of my favourites... and there was The Persistence of Memory at the Museum of Modern Art... and I was too tired after walking one hour up and down Fifth Avenue, save that for my next trip..