Our church recently fed 1500 homeless/oppressed people in Los Angeles. Before the banquet began, we left in large groups and walked the streets to invite the people to the banquet. I was very excited to be a part of this "mission" for the day, to have an opportunity to get out of my comfort zone and serve those who are forgotten about and often "invisible." As we began walking the streets, we "toured" the grand yester-year of Los Angeles which is now known as Skid Row.
We invited almost everyone we came across and most of them graciously accepted. After walking for several blocks, I thought we were finishing up, but as we turned the corner, I realized that we were just getting started. For a block and-a-half, we witnessed the complete desperation in which the people on this row existed. We spent most of our time on this street and we had the opportunity to meet and talk to some amazing people. We also came across people who appeared utterly and completely broken-physically, mentally, emotionally. If my heart wasn't completely broken before, it was now. I still have no words to express my thoughts and feelings about it.
Admittedly, I was a bit relieved when we finally approached "our" barricaded part of the street where the banquet was being held, as the walk was quite intense. When we arrived, almost all of the banquet tables were full! It's hard to explain what it was like walking from a place of complete desperation to a place of hope, in one step. It wasn't so much the geographic location, we were still on the streets of Skid Row. But in one step there was an obvious Spirit of hope and love where there wasn't before. The loud speakers were proclaiming the hope of Christ in song and in word. The guests were being served what they needed: food, clothing, blankets, but most importantly they were being served what they needed most: hope and love in the name of Jesus. It was beautiful.
Before we left to walk the streets, one of the speakers talked about the famous phrase, "What Would Jesus Do?" She reminded us that he would do what he already did. He was drawn to the poor and outcasts and he walked among them frequently. He healed the sick, and he offered hope to the hopeless. We were reminded that God has no hands but ours.
Christ has no body on earth but yours,
no hands but yours,
no feet but yours.
Yours are the eyes through which
Christ's compassion for the world is to look out;
yours are the feet with which He is to go about doing good;
and yours are the hands with which He is to bless us now.
— Saint Teresa of Avila
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