The cost of a sheep varies, but on average a “Katahdin cross”
ewe is worth about $300.[1]
I was driving into a nearby town recently. I noticed a crowd
of about three dozen gathered around a food giveaway program. People of all
ages and descriptions stood in line to receive the weekly ration of free food
being offered by a local charity.
I spent the next two hours with co-workers at our missions’
facility about a mile further up the street. We offered conversation, a
listening ear, and prayer, and an opportunity to hear the “Good News” of Jesus
Christ. We gave stuff away too: drinks, snacks, and biblical literature.
A few people came. I spent 45 minutes talking to a 60-ish, self-professed
alcoholic named John. He had a long white beard. I thought of Moses in the
Bible. We reminisced about our youthful years. Ironically we had had the same “favorite
band,” The Who. It was a touch point.
I sought to explain my life since becoming a Christian, and
told him how that in the mid-1970’s, the Lord had changed me. He mentioned a
man from the Rescue Mission who had helped him so much. I said, “Why don’t you go over to the Mission and
ask him how you can help? You can help many of the guys in there.” He made
no comment on that. Finally I prayed for him as he had requested me to do in
the beginning. As soon as I said, “Amen,” he continued a story. It didn’t seem
he listened.
Another man with a hoodie pulled over his eyes entered and
sat down. He was visibly shaking. When
he talked his voice was a heart-rending sob. As my friend talked with the
distraught man, I thought, “He should be
under supervised care, and yet he’s walking around the streets.”
I left and drove back up Main Street. I saw another cluster
of 20 or so people gathered around a table with a “Free Cell Phones,” sign.
A block farther on, a sign hanging on the front of a bank
promised, “We’ll Pay You To Open An
Account.”
I felt sad. People here are being given things. I thought of
the word “entitlement.”
When I served in India as a missionary, we saw many
charitable works. We avoided the ones that created dependency like the plague. The
best ones sought to help people to help themselves. It has something to do with
self-respect that is rooted in the value of a person, which in turn, is rooted in the Gospel.
That’s probably why I felt sad. The people of this
Pennsylvania town are loveable and worthy of respect. The man who looked like
Moses and the crying man may be messed up, but there is a God-given value they
have that is incalculable. Jesus once said, “What
man among you, if he had a sheep that fell into a pit ... wouldn’t take
hold of it and lift it out? A man is worth far
more than a sheep …”[2]
A man is worth far
more than a sheep.
Our efforts to help people must never lose sight of this.
