A wealthy Christian went along...
Illustration
Object:
A wealthy Christian went along on a trip to India, sponsored by an organization called
The Ministry of Money. The trip was called "a pilgrimage of reverse mission." They
visited Mother Teresa's mission to the destitute and dying of Calcutta. Here's what the
man wrote later about his experience:
Calcutta was undoubtedly the most depressing, undesirable place we visited, but it was also the place of greatest joy for me.... I was feeding a withered, brown, old man with a gray stubble beard. He was too weak to sit up and was covered with a blanket. I accidentally spilled a few grains of rice onto his neck. At first I didn't want to retrieve the rice because I didn't want to risk touching him. After some time, however, I realized that the rice was probably uncomfortable to him and that the only thing to do was to remove it with my own fingers.
As soon as I touched him, all heaven broke loose. He began to speak, smile, and wiggle his head in that peculiar Indian way. Though I couldn't understand the words, the body language was unmistakable: he was overwhelmed with the simple joy of a kind human touch. The feeding continued for some time, interspersed with numerous outbursts of joy from him.
Somewhere during this time something surprising happened to me. A big childish, irrepressible grin came over my face. I had become infected with his joy. It was a joy so deep that I had almost forgotten that such feelings even existed ... If indeed I had met Jesus in this man, then I had met not only the suffering Jesus, but also the Jesus of great joy.
Calcutta was undoubtedly the most depressing, undesirable place we visited, but it was also the place of greatest joy for me.... I was feeding a withered, brown, old man with a gray stubble beard. He was too weak to sit up and was covered with a blanket. I accidentally spilled a few grains of rice onto his neck. At first I didn't want to retrieve the rice because I didn't want to risk touching him. After some time, however, I realized that the rice was probably uncomfortable to him and that the only thing to do was to remove it with my own fingers.
As soon as I touched him, all heaven broke loose. He began to speak, smile, and wiggle his head in that peculiar Indian way. Though I couldn't understand the words, the body language was unmistakable: he was overwhelmed with the simple joy of a kind human touch. The feeding continued for some time, interspersed with numerous outbursts of joy from him.
Somewhere during this time something surprising happened to me. A big childish, irrepressible grin came over my face. I had become infected with his joy. It was a joy so deep that I had almost forgotten that such feelings even existed ... If indeed I had met Jesus in this man, then I had met not only the suffering Jesus, but also the Jesus of great joy.
