Often times with ministry and life, in general, so much more takes place than the physical events that transpire.
One morning for ministry we played soccer (football) with street kids and slum children. Here is what it looked like:
Joe and I were charged with kid collection, so we got up at 5:30 in order to head into slum the before all the boys dispersed. The slums we saw in Nepal aren’t huge but they are prevalent; scattered here and there, always scabbed onto the riverside.
We took a van there with one of our ministry contacts, Roshan. We had hardly entered the slum before some of the kids saw us an took off running towards us. They shouted, “Roshan, brother!”
Roshan sent the leaders off to gather the other boys. The boys ranged from approx. 5-18 or 19. There were plenty of boys, enough for 3 teams (with us). I noticed there weren’t any girls. Where are the girls? I asked. I did not expect the sobering reply.
“There are no girls on the street. They are all trafficked.”
Once the boys were assemble, we took a pit stop on our way to the field. We sat them down at a small open faced restaurant and treated the boys to breakfast snack: a cup of tea and a lightly sugared donut. I found this was a pre-game ritual and a special treat because the boys were too poor to be able to afford this simple amenity.
Next we all loaded in a bus and headed to the field. The field was a dirt and grass plot of land which was relatively flat and littered with a couple land mines from the neighborhood cows. For us, it was perfect. We divided up into teams and passed out clean jerseys for the kids to wear.
We played all morning.
While our teams weren’t playing we loved on the boys: picking them up, swinging them around, and putting their tiny little bodies on our shoulders. They couldn’t get enough.
Come noon, lunch arrived. Some of our teammates had hung back in order to learn how to make chicken curry and rice; which they helped prepare for lunch. Our time concluded with singing a few songs and Joe sharing his testimony.
We were tired, sore and dirty but oh so full.
As I look back, I begin to see the wonderful parallels of Christ in that morning. Christ comes into the streets and slums of our lives. He invites us to spend time with Him. He sits us down at a table for a meal we can’t afford. He clothes us, despite out filthy bodies, in His fresh and clean righteousness. With Him we experience a depth of life we’ve never felt before; the richness of joy, of being picked up, swung around and sat atop His shoulder.
That morning we were Christ to those boys.
Friends, every day we are Christ to the world.
