The Least of These

Matthew 25:34-40

34 “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. 35 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, 36 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.’

37 Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? 38 When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? 39 When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

40 The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’"

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"First day here at Camp Metigoshe, and I don't know how I'm feeling; maybe ‘conflicted’ is the best way to describe this. I don’t know when I became so shy that I’m afraid to meet new people. It’s not that I fear any of them—they’re all actually really nice, funny, crazy, and accepting—I fear their inner thoughts. I fear what they might think of me; that it is more ‘natural’ for Christians to be cruel, bland, conformed, and judgmental because that has been my experience with many Christians from my past. I want to call them friends, but I’m too afraid to try. Wow, I’m starting to make it sound like I’m the weird, antisocial counselor in the corner. Forever alone. Trying to make myself laugh here. We held our first worship service tonight. It's called Vespers. Vespers is a quiet worship service that is held in the late evening - a time to reflect. The staff is sitting in a large circle, and in the middle of the room is a cross, made out of several logs, each with several holes that line across the middle of each log so that they each may hold several candles. As a staff, we went around our circle, singing slow, beautiful songs while each one of us took a turn lighting a candle. We then passed on the message of 'You are the light of the world' to the person next to us as it became their turn to light a candle. I may have lit a candle, but tonight no light came from me.

One song in particular stood out to me; it's called 'The Lord is my Light.' The lyrics go:

'The Lord is my light. And my salvation.

Whom shall I fear? Whom shall I fear?

The Lord is my strength. The strength of my life.

Of whom shall I be afraid.'

This song stood out to me because it asked, ‘Whom shall I fear?’ I do not fear God like maybe I should. Instead, I fear God’s people and how they may perceive others. I know I should not fear what people think, but I do. Here I am, at a camp where I am supposed to spread my love of the Lord with others, but right now, I’m just lost in the dark."

That was my first journal entry I made this summer while I was working at Camp Metigoshe right outside of Bottineau, ND. It's dated May 20, 2013. I look back at the journal entry, and I am actually shocked, appalled, and disappointed that I wrote that. Because now that the summer is over, I don't feel like that at all. I read it again and again, but it's like I'm reading it from a different perspective. I said I don't fear The Lord, but I did. I feared what others would think of me, and if I feared them, I also feared The Lord. Because if there's something I saw on a daily basis at Camp Metigoshe, it was The Lord through the works of others. It was a lesson on serving people known as the "Least of These." I read that first journal entry I made, and I realize, in that particular moment, I was the least of these. I wasn't actually hungry or thirsty. I wasn't exactly a stranger, and I definitely wasn't naked. I wasn't sick nor was I in prison. But that first night, I felt them all. But God provided me everything I needed. All summer long the staff of Camp Metigoshe served the Lord because it is the Lord who serves all of us.

I was hungry for the reassurance I was meant to be at Camp Metigoshe. But through staff members and campers, I felt like I belonged and that being there was my purpose.

I was thirsty for answers of questions that always made me unsure of myself. But through staff members and campers, I learned faith isn't about having answers; it's about having hope.

I was a stranger as I was different. But through staff members and campers, I was embraced and loved for the person I am. 

I was naked – uncomfortable and hidden. But through staff members and campers, I was clothed with compassion, comfort, and peace. 

I was sick with the feeling of failure. But through staff members and campers, I was told that I do have the calling to make a great pastor someday, and that I was already making a difference. 

And I was in a prison created by myself, to keep myself in and others out. But through staff members and campers, my walls were broken down. Camp Metigoshe is not and never will be a prison for those who come. It is a place to call home. It's a place where my faith grew and where I was surrounded by a family. 

The last week of camp, during our last Bible study for the counselors, we shared our highs and lows of the summer. My lows were forgotten, but for my highs, the list was endless. I thought of memories that were created each week – one group of Pioneers, one group of Discoverers, one group of Seek Week, two Day Camps, three groups of Voyageurs, and two weeks serving as either the Co-Cook or Waterfront Director for two different Trinity Weeks. But if I had to choose my ultimate high: it was the love, support, and acceptance I received every single day from the staff that surrounded me.

We have another song at Camp called "Gonna Dance!" It’s upbeat and fast and allows us to do crazy, fun things such as Dance, Laugh, Jump, Sing, Trout (yes, we trout - it's like a

"Splish-Splash” kind of thing), and Pray "before the Altar of The Lord." And then it goes "Won't be afraid of living anymore; won't be afraid like before!"

I fear The Lord but not in the way that I feared myself or the way I feared living. Instead, my fear is imagining my life without God’s everlasting love. The Lord our God is always there, and it is God who provides us with everything we need. If you ever feel you are the least of these—and trust me, everyone has experienced being the least of these—remember you are not alone. God will always love you; God will love you for exactly the person you were created to be.

I'm done being afraid of living, and instead, I'll be dancing and laughing and jumping and singing and trouting (yep, I'm gonna trout) and praying and whatever else He asks of me. I will serve the least of these and even the best of these because God serves all. And through God, no one will ever be abandoned when they feel like least of these. Regardless who the person is – love them and serve them and let them know they are not alone. The Lord is our light. Follow this light. Let the Lord’s light shine through you. Be the light of the world.