The Least of These
Behold the least of these. Behold the beggar. Behold the child. Behold the widow. Behold the broken. Those who are the least of these will inherit the Kingdom of God. How often do we look down upon the poor, thinking that it is up to us to help them? How often do we tell the children that they will understand, only when they are older? How often do we decide that the broken are lesser then us? Can we really be such fools? Jesus Christ said that “the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these” (Mt. 19:14).
Today, I dreamt of a future. I saw a kingdom beyond anything I had imagined. There before me stood the most unlikely of leaders. I had always predicted that someday the great giants of the faith would rule in high authority, but instead I saw a boy. This young child, with unshakable faith, was a shining beacon of Christ. How could a boy, no older that fifteen rule so much? It was as I stood facing him with a look of astonishment that I heard a great voice say, “because you have been faithful in a very little thing, you are to be in authority over ten cities” (Lu 19:17). I began to wonder even more at this boy. What had he been so faithful in?
A woman came beside me and began to request an audience with this boy. It was when I saw her face that I knew it was his mother. I have yet to see a stranger thing. His mother approached him with immense reverence and he greeted her with the open arms and the greatest of kindness. There was only humility in his eyes and love in his heart. It was in that moment that I saw who he had been in life.
His mother was a single mother. He had severe Down’s Syndrome. She took him to church week after week and it was through her dedication that he came to fall in love with Christ. He could never quote scripture and he could never remember the words to any songs, but that never stifled his zeal. She struggled day by day to take care of her son and all the while he would pray, talking to the One who had saved him. He knew no theology, other than the fact that his savior had died for him. He prayed for those he met, he prayed for those he saw in magazines, newspapers, even the television, he prayed and never ceased. When he did speak, the only thing he could seem to say was how much he loved Jesus and how much Christ did for him.
I stood in awe. This boy wasn’t handicapped. I was handicapped! He may have been disabled in our physical realm, but it was I who was disabled in the spiritual. This boy, as he grew into a man, never ‘grew up’ and his faith forever stayed that of a child’s.
I began to realize that his ‘condition’ was a gift. Maybe he couldn’t function correctly by the standards of the world, but he lived by faith alone. He didn’t work, he didn’t search for food, and he didn’t do anything that I strive for everyday. In his life he trusted God for everything. He had faith; and with it he prayed. He knew what he believed and he doubted nothing. It was simple faith. It was raw faith. I didn’t feel convicted, thinking that I should be a better Christian; instead I felt as though I stood in the presence of a king. Though he didn’t know it, he was far greater than I, for I could never have his faith. His faith was a gift. God had given this boy a gift that the rest of the world calls a curse.
Can we really be such fools?