The Least

By Ron Barnes

Meditating over the Word in my favorite vacation spot early one morning, I began to think through how this modest home in south Florida became more than a place for vacation; it was a place of refuge. Memories of spending time as a family recovering from one of the hardest times we experienced in ministry at this home have kept this place a special place we go to recover, rest, reflect, and refresh. Not just for me, but also for my family.

We come here to fish, swim, play, relax, eat … and laugh. Laughing is really a key stress reliever for our family and during that season it was really hard.

But as I meditated here in this place of refuge, sun rising over the lagoon, the passage that is the theme for this Reaper rang in my mind and I went back to study it more deeply. It was that word “least” that had me curious. “Least,” in Matthew 25 is, interestingly enough, the superlative of the word “micro,” the smallest of the small.

Sometimes as we read this passage, we are tempted to think primarily of the “down and outer,” the poor, the hungry, the thirsty, the naked, particularly since that is who Jesus seemed to address, but those are outside features. Have you considered that Jesus may have also been speaking metaphorically? That He may have also meant poor, hungry, and thirsty on the inside, hidden from others’ view? It’s easy to see when someone is hungry or thirsty on the outside but seeing someone who is hungry and thirsty on the inside takes a lot more attention, and the need may not be visible at all.

Those of us in ministry who try to put on a brave face for those we serve, can be hard to read when we are hurting. Week after week during that hard time, when I met with the congregation that I ministered to, I saw that when I hurt, they hurt, and they didn’t even know why they were hurting. They didn’t know that the national pastor, my “partner,” an influential man in the denomination, was out to discredit me in the congregation and the denomination. I was confident that, in the end, it would be his sins revealed that would explain his actions and clear my name, but it didn’t make it any easier in the meantime. So, I worked very hard not to wear my emotions on my sleeve, to try to put my love for them above my own personal hurt, and shepherd them like they deserved.

My family was weary from this experience. This man was like a grandfather to them, and to be
betrayed was hard on each of them. We postponed our furlough, which we really needed, because to leave in the midst of this crisis would have sent the wrong message, like giving up when it gets hard. The nationals wouldn’t have understood it was a scheduled event for a missionary.

Leaving would have also meant my “partner” sabotaging everything we had built in the congregation; he had already started using his position to bully members. Staying, I could continue to shepherd them, particularly as they became wounded too, but at the same time being wounded as well.

Part of me wanted to just defend myself, clearing my name and revealing his ulterior motives. But it didn’t seem the Lord would let me, like when the truth came out, it would eventually make things abundantly clear, with my testimony intact. So, we patiently waited.

Around this time, a team from New Jersey came, friends of my partner, but who I made all the arrangements for. We spent a good amount of time with them. They were a breath of fresh air, but I still wanted to be careful not to let them see the hurt of our family and do or say anything that would dampen the experience of their mission trip.

We continued to enjoy getting to know each other and they became quite close to my family. They ministered to us more deeply than they will ever know, because it was at one of our darkest moments. They had no idea, I’m sure, that we were the “least of the least” at that moment in time, maybe even appearing to be least likely to have a need. They invited us into their lives, inadvertently under their wings, their care. They invited us to visit them in the states and one invited us to stay in his vacation home in Florida, for as long as we needed to.

Those kind gestures, those loving words, those offers for taking us in, ministered to us not because they saw we were hurting, but because they took seriously this mindset of ministering unto others like each were Jesus Himself.

Jesus didn’t only speak of loving and ministering to those who are outwardly lacking, but to all, each and every person we encounter on life’s path. Because, let’s face it, all of us are lacking. All of us need someone sometime, and more often than we would like to admit. And we may never know when we come across that one person, that one totally-together, on-top-of-everything businessman, teacher, bus driver, or even missionary, who really needs to be ministered to like one would minister to Jesus. On the outside they may look like the greatest, while on the inside feeling like the least, smallest of the small.

Have you considered how you can minister to those who serve you? It doesn’t have to be something extravagant like a vacation house to get away, but something that shows them you love them and understand that they shoulder and carry things they can’t always share. Give something to feed, clothe, and refresh them … like they were Jesus.